#HIS LIKE CATCH PHRASE. HIS TO-THE-FUCKING-POINT BEHAVIOR

[luck-of-the-drawings]

IM SO IN LOVE WITH VAMPIRES!! and boy do i love THE SUCKENING!! VERY excited to see the misadventures of sad wet cat, sharp angry cat, and the COOLEST cat i ever did see

#jrwi fanart #jrwi show #jrwi suckening #some of these were drawn with MOUSE and others were made with my COOL NEW TABLET OOOOHYEAH!! #I JUST FINISHED EP 3 AND OOOHHH MY GGOD. OHHH MY GOOOODD IM IN LOVE WITH EACH OF THESE CHARACTERS #LIKE ARTHUR OH MMY GOOODD ARTHUR FUCKIN BENNEEETTT #SO CONFIDENT SO COOL I FUCKIN LOVE THOSE JUST. UNBREAKABLY CONSTANTLY STOIC CHARACTERS #HIS LIKE CATCH PHRASE. HIS TO-THE-FUCKING-POINT BEHAVIOR #HES LIke a hard candy with TRAGIC GOO TRAPPED INSIIDEEE he is a mollusk to me and i wanna break opEN THAT SHHHEELLL BABYYYY #AND SPEAKIN OF SHELLLSS emizel oh mmy god little guy #i KNOW hes softer than he lets on. and yet i wanna see him bite and attack more people and set things ablaze #i wanna fund his research. and by research i mean arson #AND OOHH SHILLOOO lil prince shilo hes my small baby boy whos okay with death as long as he doesnt have to see #THERES SOMETHING RRRROTTEN AT THE CORE OF THIS BEAUTIFUL APPLE PIE #AND I CANT WWWAIT TO SEE WHAT COMES OF IT #ALSO FUNFACT!! im tryin to make emizel n shilo look more similar #so if u CLOSELY LOOK u will see that their hair is similar. noses n face shapes are the same. they have Heart shapes in their bangs #also unrelated but im a lil in love with deacon keller.... i just rly like cowboys.... like i just think hes neat.... yeehaww #I ALSO LOVE KITTIEESSS ALL THE LIL KITTY SOUNDS IN THIS SHOW ARE SO CUTE... #i heard 'gray cat with round orange eyes' n immediately thought of tama from jjba. yknow the stray cat? dies and becomes magic plant?yeaaaa #cant wait for more. ill scream abt what happened in ffUUUCUKKIGNG EPSIODE 3 LATER BC OH MMY GGOOODDDD!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Day 4 of @silmsmutweek

Pairing: Manwë x Eönwë x Ilmarë | Location: Ilmarin.

Themes: Smut (Lemon/Graphic)

Warnings/Prompts: Threesome | Explicit language | Dirty talk | Pain play/Nipple play | Wings | Oral (Male receiving) | Rough Sex | Penetrative sex | Cream pie

Word count: 2.5k words 

Summary: The Elder King and his herald invite Ilmarë to join them in bed after they catch her watching them during the act.

Rating: 🔥🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume. 

 Beautiful stained glass windows rattled against the mighty winds that whipped around Ilmarin. Lamps burned brilliantly like golden stars, throwing their radiant light across blue and white marble walls and floors. A pile of boots and robes, sashes and belts and tunics had formed near the bed.

Ilmarë kept to the shadows and watched the king kiss his herald in a frenzy that left the latter short of breath. Manwë kissed long and deep, slipping his arms around Eönwë’s waist and helping him to his knees. The herald let out a keening whine when the king stroked a wing with one hand and his cock with the other.

Ilmarë dithered. She knew she should leave; the message she was supposed to give the king was of no great importance. Eönwë moaning shamelessly made her forget all else, including what she considered proper behavior. She took a step closer, taking care to hide behind a great column. If found, she would never be able to live down the disgrace.

The king kissed his herald again, this time with more teeth and tongue. Ilmarë was transported by the sight of Manwë’s tongue flicking at Eönwë’s own. The herald gave back as good as he got, kissing his lord with equal vigor and fire before gaining the upper hand and throwing him onto his back. Manwë giggled lustily. Eönwë chuckled hoarsely in return. Heat slowly bloomed and pooled in Ilmarë’s core when fingers knitted around each other and the king slid his legs open. Manwë touched Eönwë’s hair, his cheek, and settled into his pillows.

"Go on," he urged, pointing to a small crystal jar that held a pale white ointment. "Fuck me."

Ilmarë abruptly gasped, having never heard the king speak such language before. And she groaned silently after having given herself away. She kept perfectly still while Vala and Maia put a stop to their embraces and sat up in bed.

"We know you are there, Ilmarë." Manwë coos, almost as if in invitation. "Come out of the shadows, if you please."

The king was all courtesy, but Ilmarë recognized a royal command when she heard one. Her knees wobbled while she moved away from the columns and the shadows and stepped into the light. Her eyes flew wide when they rested on the king and his herald. Both were naked while they sat atop their featherbed, their eyes burning brighter than the lamps that lit the chamber.

"Forgive me, my lord," Ilmarë addressed Eönwë first before turning to face the king. "And you, your grace. I must beg your pardon for…"

"Hiding behind the columns and watching while we made love?" Manwë said, not unkindly. "What were you doing behind those columns, anyway?"

"Yes." Ilmarë coughed and cleared her throat before holding out a thick roll of parchment. "That. Tis nothing of importance, your grace. It is an invitation and…"

"And yet you still snuck into my private chambers and kept to the shadows just so you could watch us—" the king turned to Eönwë and asked, "—what is that wretched phrase the edain love to use so much?"

"Make the beast with two backs." Eönwë lay back and stretched himself out in bed, his head resting over his folded arms.

Manwë shuddered. "Yes. What excuse do you have to offer in your defense?"

A flash of heat crept up Ilmarë’s neck and set her cheeks ablaze. She had no excuses. She knew she should have turned on her heel and left the moment she opened the doors and heard the first moan. She would have done it too, had her ravenous curiosity not bested her in the end. Now that same curiosity had landed her in very hot water—with the king himself, no less.

"I have none," she answered quickly and truthfully. "I should have left as soon as I heard. Forgive me."

Eönwë studied her keenly with those vivid blue eyes of his. "Tell me something. Did you enjoy what you saw?"

Ilmarë could not bring herself to deny that either. Not with the king watching her.

"I did," she replied, her cheeks heating again while she confessed. "My pardons for that as well."

The room grew so silent. Ilmarë heard the wind whistle like a living thing just outside the large, arched windows. Manwë and Eönwë turned to face each other. There were no words spoken, but Ilmarë knew they were sharing counsel through another means, one that was strongest amongst their kind. She stood still, her head bowed, ready for the inevitable chastisement that was sure to come her way.

The king, on the other hand, surprised her by saying, "Would you care to join us, Ilmarë?"

Ilmarë raised her head, amazed by what she heard. "But you are with him, your grace," she sputtered in disbelief. "It is not proper for me to…"

"I am king. I decide what is proper and what is not," Manwë answered quickly, cutting her off with a gentle wave of his hand. "And Eönwë over here has a craving for you. As do I. What say you, my lady? Will you join us?"

Eyes as bright as the stars darted from the king, then his herald. Ilmarë wondered if this was some strange and cruel torment they devised to punish her for spying on them. Eönwë knelt up and held out his hand.

"There is no trickery here," he promised. "Neither of us is going to harm you. Now, do you want to join us? Perhaps let us lead the way, so to speak?"

Ilmarë breathed in sharply. To have the chance to bed both the Elder King and his most trusted banner-bearer, to let them have their way with her, was something she often dreamed about. No one knew, of course. Ilmarë understood that word would spread to the other Ainur and then the elves, had she confided in the wrong being. She would not have been able to live with it had word spread and everyone learned of her fantasy.

No need for such worries now, she told herself. And they want me to share their bed.

"Yes," Ilmarë decided after some reflection. "I will join you both."

Manwë was content to stay abed while Eönwë rose and came to her. "Undress her, if you please," the king urged. "The lady is burdened with too many bothersome garments."

Ilmarë rewarded the king with a ready smile and stood still while practiced hands went to work on tiny clasps, undoing them one by one. Her dress loosened, and Eönwë’s hot breath fanned over her shoulder when he slipped the sleeves down her arms. Ilmarë shivered, goosebumps prickling all over her when her raiments slipped past her waist and pooled around her feet.

Manwë took a moment to admire her. "Flawless, is she not?"

"A vision, your grace," Eönwë agreed, after having circled her once, then twice, making her tremble with the look of deep hunger in his eyes. He took the parchment out of her hands and threw it to the side. 

"Have you known the touch of anyone else?"

"Yes, my lord. In another time, and another place."

Eönwë growled in anger.

"Be careful with him," Manwë said baldly. "Our Eönwë has always struggled with jealousy."

"A prospect that pleases you, I see," Eönwë observed, "me being jealous."

Ilmarë flushed heatedly, for yes, she did enjoy the prospect of Eönwë being overcome with jealousy. When he held out his arm, she took it and let him lead her to bed, making herself comfortable between them after she got in.

Manwë moved to the side, content to watch. "For now," he went on to say. "Once Eönwë is finished, I wish to have a turn. If it pleases you, that is."

"It pleases me greatly, your grace," Ilmarë replies, her very spirit fluttering when the king smiled with great warmth.

She did not have time to dwell on anything else. Not on the splendor of the king’s private chambers, or the softness of the linen rubbing against her back, or the beauty of the two Ainur about to bed her. Eönwë leaned down and kissed her. He kissed her long and hard, tracing the soft outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue. She sighed and closed her eyes, her arms circling powerful shoulders. The tops of his wings brushed against her skin, sending electrifying jolts coursing through his veins. Eönwë trembled. It was delicious—the feel of him quivering against her. Ilmarë grew bold. She remembered how his wings’ were sensitive to another’s touch, how he moaned when the king stroked his. She did the same and was rewarded with a transported cry.

Eönwë propped himself on his elbow and kept still while Ilmarë let the tips of her fingers brush against silken feathers, eliciting one strangled whimper after another. Her touch felt so warm and good that he almost found his release right then and there. Ilmarë gasped; he was hard and heavy against her hip, his breath quickening with each delicate stroke. Manwë was no longer content to just watch. He reached over and palmed the soft expanse of her breasts, not stopping until her nipples had hardened for his touch.

"Someone likes pain, I see." Manwë continued to toy with them, pinching a hardened peak gently at first. When Ilmarë unraveled against his touch and mewled helplessly, he grew merciless.

"Yes," she pleaded wantonly. "More. Harder. Please."

Manwë laughed, a greedy, wolfish look flashing in his eyes. "There will be more, sweetling. Much more. Let him tend to you first."

Eönwë did not spare her either, nipping her shoulder softly before placing a kiss on the bruise he left behind. This time he pushed her legs apart with his, teasing her by rubbing the tip of his shaft against her entrance and then teasing her even more with quick, shallow thrusts. Ilmarë whined in protest even as fresh arousal trickled between her thighs.

"Stop teasing me!" She cried and wrapped her legs around his hips. "Please. It is too much."

Eönwë smirked in triumph. "Look at you!" He proclaimed, "already begging for my cock like a desperate little slut."

The slur both shocks and arouses her at the same time. "Perhaps I am," she replied, red-cheeked. "But please, enough with the teasing. I cannot bear it."

Neither king nor herald had heard such boldness from someone as proper as her before. They were stunned for a moment—just a moment. Eönwë dipped his head, his lips a grain over hers.

"You want me to just fuck you?" He reaches for her hands, pins them over her head and into the pillows once he has a good grip on her wrists. "To simply reward you?"

"And after you thought it fitting to spy on me and my herald?" Manwë, knowing all too well what Eönwë had in mind, The notion of viewing Eönwë administering said punishment to another inflamed him. "No, no, sweet Ilmarë. You have to be admonished first."

Ilmarë licked her lips. Eönwë wanted to admonish her. But how? "What… what do you have in mind, my lord?"

A slap stung her thigh, and she took in a sharp breath. That first stinging slap was followed by another, and another, and another. Ilmarë’s cries soon morphed into drugging moans. She squirmed beneath Eönwë, her breath quickening every time the flat of his hand left a mark of its own on her thighs.

"I think that is enough." Manwë, thoroughly impatient, yearned to witness more. "And I think a little reward is in order."

Eönwë agreed, now eager to do more than just admonish. He slipped inside her again, groaning softly when velvety walls fluttered around that hardened part of him.

"Take it all in," he commanded without a second thought. "Go on. I know you can."

Hints of pain and pressure mingled with bliss when he entered her with one quick thrust. Pinned to the bed, Ilmarë arched her back, her fana already aflame. Then Eönwë rolled his hips.

Ilmarë squirmed and saw stars every time Eönwë pulled his hips back and pushed them back in, bruising the insides of her thighs. And he was heavy. So very heavy, his wings rustling with each thrust. He twisted and moved onto his back in one practiced move after sensing her discomfort. Trails of fire spread just beneath Ilmarë’s skin. She would now push back with each thrust, her head tossing back whenever Eönwë gripped her hips and brought her down hard, filling her insides completely. Manwë took in this sinful display, his hand reaching down to between his thighs.

Eönwë shook when trembling hands splayed over his chest, when the Maia to whom they belonged nearly collapsed on top of him, her long, silver-pink hair falling about her shoulders in a beautifully tumbled mess.  

"Are you close?" He hissed when there was an all-too-familiar clenching around his length.

Another hard thrust nearly sent Ilmarë spiraling. "Yes."

"You must hold onto your release," Eönwë insisted, his voice thick and hoarse. "And wait until our king is done with you."

The beginning of her protest was cut short with another sharp slap to her thigh. This time, it was by the king’s hand.

"Listen to him," Manwë ordered. "Or we will deny you for as long as we deem necessary."

Ilmarë nodded, fighting back the growing tension in her belly. Eönwë felt warm and dizzy. He stopped and pulled Ilmarë off of him, rising to his feet before helping her to the soft pelt beside the bed and pushing her to her knees.

"Open," he stressed, stroking the side of her cheek. "Go on."

Ilmarë did as she was commanded, closing her eyes when he slid his cock into her eager mouth. This was a new sensation—to have someone rut into her like this. She savored the pearly white seed that had gathered at the tip and the grunts that greeted every thrust and flick of her tongue. Large hands gripped the back of her head, forcing it down, pulling her hair out of the way. She gagged and sputtered, her hands gripping Eönwë’s hips whenever he bucked them into her mouth. Her arousal was dripping down her thighs, yet she must wait until the king has his turn with her.

The Elder King himself fucking me, she mused. Would he be as commanding as his herald?

She could not wait to find out.

"Yes," Eönwë moaned, already chasing his release. "Just like that. Just a little longer."

One deep, final thrust was all it took. Eönwë let out an inarticulate cry as his seed spilled onto Ilmarë’s tongue.

"Swallow," he breathed, his chest heaving with each breath he took. "Swallow every drop."

Ilmarë did as she was commanded, opening her mouth so Eönwë could see she had done what he had asked of her.

"Good," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her. "Now come. It is time you saw to the king."

Tags: @cilil

#silmsmutweek #lords of ilmarin #Eönwë #Ilmarë #Manwë #Manwë smut #Ilmarë smut #Eönwë smut #Manwë imagine #Eönwë imagine #Ilmarë imagine #The silm #The silm smut #The silm imagine

[maya-matlin]

Five ships: Jonnor, Morisol, Spaige, Bhandallas, Beckdam

Five characters: Ellie, Ashley, Liberty, Terri, Emma

Bonus: Name your five most seemingly unpopular Degrassi opinions :)

1.) Spaige

2.) Morisol

3.) Jonnor

4.) Beckdam

5.) Bhandallas

1.) Liberty

2.) Ellie

3.) Emma

4.) Ashley

5.) Terri

As for my opinions:

1.) I'm not sure how to phrase this without it coming across like I'm excusing Tristan's biphobia or trying to shut down fans' rightful and completely understandable criticisms re: Tristan's biphobic moments. But, I think Tristan sometimes gets scapegoated as the biphobic guy. Degrassi always had a massive biphobia problem, and it didn't begin and end with Tristan. It's present as early as Paige's time on the show. Like many shows at the time and even some present day shows, they refused to label any polysexual characters. It's always "I like people". "I'm not into labels." "I don't like this gender, but I like you." "I'm open minded." Anything that talks around the possibility that a character could be anything besides straight or gay/lesbian. Obviously, sexual orientation isn't limited to a specific label. Oftentimes, people choose to remain unlabeled, fall somewhere under the queer umbrella, or consider things like this very complex and therefore don't take on a label. It's the casual way Imogen goes from "I like people" to being referred to as a lesbian during her final season and expressing disgust when contemplating getting involved with her canonical ex boyfriend. The writers' Twitter "confirmed" Imogen as pansexual years later and that's also how I interpret the character's sexual orientation, but.. it doesn't change how they chose to portray Imogen's sexual orientation. However, it's also true that society is only now starting to catch up and has started writing their characters accordingly. Tristan's ignorance about Miles's sexual orientation and refusal to put his insecurities aside and accept that he's in love with a bisexual man until his final season has no excuse. There could have been an arc dedicated to Tristan unlearning this behavior and being a better partner and person in general. This never happened. Degrassi did the absolute bare minimum by having Lola be the one to validate Miles's identity presumably after enough people called them out on social media following the premiere of Next Class season 1. Tristan sort of halfway accepts that Miles is bi, but it's Miles who has the dialogue explaining while there's never acknowledgement that Tristan hadn't accepted Miles up to this point or made him feel any type of way. And on that note, Miles isn't shown reacting to any biphobia. We don't know what he thinks, whether he's mad, feels rejected, insecure, feels as though he needs to be "less" to be accepted by his boyfriend, etc. I don't think I made any sort of point, but basically I feel like everything gets reduced to "Tristan is trash," and that's the end of the conversation when I feel like it goes much deeper?

2.) Eli wasn't out of character during seasons 13 and 14. There's a precedent for Eli lashing out and blaming Clare when things don't go his way or she does something he perceives as wrong. Also, while the timeline was baffling, Eli's only human and it's not surprising that he'd struggle with loneliness once he and Clare were physically separated. As for season 14, Eli being possessive and saying inappropriate, vaguely misogynistic things to Clare 100% lines up with canon. Eli also seemed fully lucid to me when he was calling Clare a whore. He was clearly getting off on that and only changed his stance when he realized she was carrying his child.

3.) This is so minor, but I don't give a flying fuck that Alex Steele came back as Tori and not Angie. It's television. Actors play multiple roles all the time. It's kind of annoying that this overshadows Tori's whole character and existence. I don't think she was around long enough to be super complex or anything, but I liked that character for who she was and the monthly comments complaining about this since like 2011 have been annoying.

4.) As much as I love the idea of Spinner and Terri getting together and possibly becoming endgame in a scenario where Terri sticks around, in actuality I think Spinner would have dropped the ball hard. Considering how he behaved with Paige during season 4, I doubt he would have been the best boyfriend to Terri with or without Paige's interference. As shady as Paige was, Spinner's interest switched from Terri to Paige extremely quickly.

5.) Ashley was depressed throughout her time on the show barring the year she spent in London and everyone missed it, the writers included. I don't know that this is actually unpopular, but she's constantly misunderstood and accused of being "moody" and "dramatic" and it's just very obvious to me that she's unhappy a lot of the time and feels very stifled. She's desperate to find some sort of way to express herself whether it be by writing and performing songs or altering her physical appearance. And at the end of season 4, I genuinely think her mental health had taken its toll which forced her to cut contact with Craig and get the hell away from Degrassi. While she came back seemingly with a new lease on life and appeared happier during season 6, by season 7 she was back to feeling limited and suddenly, the plans she made with Jimmy that used to make sense felt all wrong. IDK.

#thedegrassidiaries #Long post #biphobia tw #depression tw

[space-diablo]

Right back at you with the TS main 5 + Senya, and I'm adding Shika ;)

OKAY.

one aspect about them i love Yuri - She is a great friend. Everyone needs such a friend as Yuri. Nise - That's very personal. But she actually shows typical borderliner behavior and that hits me right in the heart❤ Kuon - She's the Goddess. Her duality actually. So lovely cute and tender girl who is very likely the most coldhearted and cruel person among all the participants❤ Sniper - His entire personality❤ I can elaborate but it's not the time, so in a short... He is so cool and reliable... and at the same time pathetic mess and a Loser. Yes with capital "L". In other words I love that same thing ppl usually hate him for. Rika - That thing... how he hates Sniper and at the same time looks at him like at some kind of an Idol and even forget sometimes that his brother also a living human. Yes, seriously, I do love it. Senya - Little cutie doesn't understand how traumatized he is. Shika - The fact that Shintarou was right. She resembles Kuon. In some ways x)))

one aspect i wish more people understood about them Yuri - She is the most attentive person among all the characters. Nise - She is 16yo old already traumatized by REAL WORLD girl who used to adapt to any situations to survive. Kuon - When she used the railgun for the first time... She didn't forget to think about other ppl who could be in that building. She DID NOT CARE about them in a first place. Like you know she doesn't give a fuck and have no idea why should she. *the list continues* Sniper - I just want to ask ppl to stop throw away that parts of his personality that don't fit their vision of him. Like most of the simps see him just as a kind of sexy-shmexy doll and haters only point at his mistakes. Non of them thinks about his character, non of them sees his traumas and suffering because of his own mistakes, non of them ever tried to understand his actions. The fandom's most popular character? Yes. But also the most misinterpreted one. He deserves better. Rika - He deserves more attention. That is all I can say 'cause... You know, I've never seen any bad word about him. Nor the good one actually. Ppl literally forget about him, some even skip his parts while rereading (yep, I know a few). Senya - That's normal!!!!! I don't want to elaborate. Just this phrase. Shika - That would be nice.. if ppl start talk about her first, so I could tell them that they are wrong 😏😏😏

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character Yuri - can't cook well, but sews really good. Nise - She gives names to stuffed toys... as well as her knives. Kuon - She doesn't want to return home. I can elaborate about that, but not now - to much to say. Sniper - I can't choose so. Vegetarian (but not vegan), gloves are not just part of the image, also he spends all of his free money to support animal shelters. And will be afraid of the grenades for the rest of his life. Rika - He keeps a secret diary. Don't ask. Senya - everyone already knows my fav headcanon that he will choose astrophysics in the future instead of becoming an astronaut. Shika - I'm shamed but I don't have any headcanons for her. Maybe if I would reread TSA more often something could born... But we know the problem with TSA rereadings for me =')))

one character i love seeing them interact with Yuri - surprisingly - with Rika. Nise - with Sniper. Yeah, best BroTP I've ever seen (after Shin and Noi from Dororhedoro), Dumb & Dumber. Kuon - what do you expect here? Sniper. I'm damn shipper XDDD But well besides him - Yuri. Sniper - besides Kuon... I can't choose between Nise and Rika. Rika - with Sniper... As you can see I'm not immune to any siblings interactions. Senya - with Sniper that's obvious. Shika - haaaard one. Don't know really. Need to reread.

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more Yuri - with Sniper about non-surviving themes. Nise - with Kuon... as helping her to catch a man. Kuon - with alien-kun is you understand me they have what to talk about 😏😏😏 Sniper - it will never happen but I'd really like to see him dealing with The Third Stage. Obviously they would hate each other and this would be really FUNNY. Rika - I need more siblings interactions! Guess yourself about which sibling of him I'm talking about XDDDD Senya - with anyone else from TS main crew besides Sniper. Shika - also anyone from TS main crew.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character I will combine some characters here. Sorry not sorry. Main5 - Yuri and Sniper is a deadly combination of idiots and the worst Rika's fear is that these two could get along. But they never really will... for various reasons. So Yuri can't get why Rika becomes so anxious about her and Sniper interactions. Nise sees Rika as a rival 'cause he takes a lot of attention (too much attention in Nise's eyes!!!) of her favorite person a.k.a Yuri. Every time Sniper needs to use bathroom or take a shower he's struggling with asking Kuon to go "for a little walk". Also Kuon can manage his dreams a bit. Senya - also I mentioned that.. long ago. He would overgrow his attraction to Oribe, like yes first love, but there's a lot of more interesting things in the world. Shika - As I said nothing here =(

#OH GOD I DID IT... three hours... But I did it!!! XDDDD #did not check grammar and typos sorry not sorry #askbox #tenkuu shinpan #high rise invasion #tenkuu shinpan arrive

[hecksupremechips]

27 any ship u like :)

Kiss as a suggestion. I’m gonna have to pick ashbella since someone in this cruel world needs to write for them 😵‍💫

“No nononoNO NO-! Shit!” Isabella cried.

“YES! Fuck yeah! Oh, the taste of victory has never felt so sweet!” Ashton exclaimed with a shit-eating grin and a little pump of his fist. The Mario Kart victory music rang cruelly in the background as the small screen focused on Waluigi rejoicing his win on his wimpy motorcycle. Meanwhile, Yoshi followed behind him, hanging his cute green head in defeat. The final results showed that Ashton won the Grand Prix, with Isabella in second place losing by just 5 points.

Isabella set her wii remote down and shot her boyfriend a dirty glare. “Oh shut it Ash! I would’ve won if you hadn’t gotten me with your strategically placed bananas! Which, by the way, is really stupid and all it tells me is that you’re a try-hard!”

Ashton stretched his arms over his head and eased into his seat on the bed with a smirk. “Tell that to my trophy, Yoshi.” He stuck his tongue out for emphasis, to which Isabella scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Has anyone ever told you what a smug asshole you are when you win?”

Ashton leaned closer to his girlfriend. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re such a sore loser? It’s not very sportsmanlike behavior, you know.” He snuck his fingers around Isabella’s waist and poked her stomach. Isabella couldn’t keep up her faux anger any longer, letting out a high giggle as Ash pulled her closer and started to tickle her.

“Aah-! Wait, wait-!” Isabella tried to protest, but her increased laughter only seemed to encourage Ash’s mischief. The two of them wiggled around until they fell back on the bed, both laughing and panting.

Ashton lay above his girlfriend, pausing his antics briefly to catch his breath. Isabella took advantage of the break to grab Ash and flip their positions. Now Isabella hovered over Ash, straddling his thighs and pinning his wrists to the bed to keep him steady. Isabella chuckled smugly at her victory.

“HA! I got you now Ashton Frey! That ought to shut you up now!”

Isabella continued to laugh just to rub it in, until she got a good look at the man underneath her and felt herself involuntarily stop.

Ashton was no longer laughing, nor smiling. Instead he averted his gaze, breathing heavily as a deep blush slowly crept up his face. Isabella didn’t even realize just how suggestive this position was until it was too late. Part of her wanted to get up, apologize for crossing this boundary that they haven’t exactly talked about before, but she was awestruck by just how pretty her boyfriend looked like this. She felt her own face heat up as butterflies rose in her stomach.

Just as Isabella loosened her grip on Ash’s wrists, apologies on the tip of her tongue, a panic look flashed his features.

“No! Wait, don’t get up, uh, I a-actually really like, uhh…god, shit, shit-” Ashton’s eyes seemed to be all over the place, looking everywhere except his girlfriend’s face. He cleared his throat awkwardly and continued.

“I’m sorry, uhh, let’s just-” Ashton choked out a weak laugh that sounded like a kicked puppy. “Let’s just…forget this ever happened and I’ll just, seemyselfoutokay byee-”

Just as he started to lean up to bail, Isabella pushed him back down with a light shove to his chest. He looked back at her, surprised, and she tried to hold his gaze without stumbling too much.

“Can I…k-kiss you?” Isabella whispered shakily. She felt like boiling lava about to burst, but she stayed firm.

Without speaking, Ashton slowly let his hands unsteadily graze Isabella’s thighs, keeping her in place.

I want you to stay with me

Taking this as her cue, Isabella leaned down and planted a kiss on Ash’s lips. Slow, awkward, unsure at first, then more kisses, hot, deep, passionate.

Lots of unspoken words that night, but through all the soft gasps, light chuckles, shaky moans, and firm touches, one phrase stayed clear:

I love you

#ask #the letter #the letter vn #ashton frey #isabella santos #ashbella #mmmmm no one will ever check these tags bwahaha #i am pining dont look at me #btw the suggestion here is getting that asshole to shut up!

[patrochillesvibes]

what are you favorite kinks for achilles and patroclus? 😈

😈😈😈😈😈

Welcome to my Ted Talk

Brat Play

Achilles is a brat. Don’t @ me. Homer wrote him that way.

A brat is a type of submissive. They are rebellious, pushy, and mouthy. They deliberately provoke attention. Remind you of anyone?

Aside from being a particular brand of flirty and a rather playful BDSM play, bratting is a way this type of sub establishes trust. BDSM is all about trust. Subs hand control over to their Doms, and this cannot be done safely and consensually without trust. Brats don’t submit without a fight because it’s how they measure who they can trust. Think of it as the saying; ‘if you can’t handle me at my worst they you don’t deserve me at my best.’

There’s incredibly strong and profound trust between a brat and their Dom. Who is the dear companion? The most beloved? The advisor and supporter? The one who is reserved and kind? Whose description matches that of a Dom? Patroclus. Achilles has the deepest trust and the deepest love for Patroclus. It is Patroclus who he respects. It is Patroclus he has given control to. It is Patroclus who cares for him in return. And that is the textbook Dom/brat relationship.  

Impact Play/Spanking

There’s a lot of variety in impact play. There are endless reasons why people find it enjoyable.

With Achilles, I think a lot of the appeal relates to brat play and funishment. Brats misbehavior to rile up their Dom. They push back and break rules. And what is the result of bad behavior? Punishment. Committing and carrying out punishment is the ultimate display of dedication and love to a sub. You care enough to help them be better. And that’s why brats act out. They want to see if the other person really does care about them or if it’s all talk.

I think they also enjoy it because Achilles is a demi-god. It’s a fun challenge to push the limits of his body.

You could also argue that it acts as a great stress relief and emotional outlet. Achilles spends the end of the Iliad wrecked with grief. He bratted too hard resulting in the death of his beloved. He could use some catharsis.

Size Kink

“He pointed to the trail of fine, dark hair that ran down my chest and over my stomach. He paused, and my face grew warm.”

Between Achilles staring at Patroclus’ junk in chapter 10 and Patroclus having poor self-image, I’m convinced that Patroclus is hung. Why else stare at cock? Achilles is a cock slut and a size queen. You cannot change my mind.

Primal Play

Rough, raw, aggressive, animalistic sex. It’s about instinct and urges. It is deeply emotional. Like most kink, there’s a lot of variety with this kink. The most basic play involves a hunter (Dom), a prey (sub), and the chase (or struggle) for dominance.

What does Patroclus do throughout TSoA? He chases Achilles. Achilles goes to Pelion. Pat goes after him. Achilles goes to Skyros. Pat goes after him. Achilles goes to Troy. Pat goes with him. Achilles goes to the underworld. Pat goes after him. Then there’s the fact that one of their favorite games to play was running. Who was always the one always trying to catch up in those races? 😏

Look me in the eye and tell me they’re not into grappling for dominance before fucking till they black out?

Breeding

I can't believe I almost forgot this one

There was tautness to his voice I had not heard before. ... “Do you want to?” he asked. I saw the struggle on his face. Jealousy was strange to him, a foreign thing. He was hurt, but did not know how to speak of it. I felt cruel, suddenly, for bringing it up. ... “If you wanted it, it would be all right.” Each word was carefully placed; he was trying to be fair. ... The relief on his face filled me with sweetness.

Achilles is enraged at the idea that someone else gets to have Patroclus' baby. If anyone has that honor, it should be him. Obviously 🙄 And I think Pat is into it too based on some phrasing from that chapter (you know that dark-haired child looked like Achilles.

And I think tying into this is creampie kink. (I mean, nothing is hotter than watching seed drip down thighs)

Gender Play

Achilles spends an extended period of time living as a woman. It takes a trick from the crafty Odysseus to out him. There is absolutely no way they didn’t not fuck while Achilles wore a peplos (dress). And you know it got them crazy aroused.

(I’m a big fan of genderchilles. Let Achilles be trans/fluid/bi-gender/genderqueer etc.)

Foot Fetish

“Up close, his feet looked almost unearthly: the perfectly formed pads of the toes, the tendons that flickered like lyre strings. The heels were callused white over pink from going everywhere barefoot. His father made him rub them with oils that smelled of sandalwood and pomegranate.”

Pretty self-explanatory there.

I could go on as I have a lot of kinks that I like for this couple. But for this ask I’ll just stick with what can be based in canon.

What are your kink hcs?

#ask #patrochilles #patroclus #achilles #tsoa #the iliad #tagamemnon

[the-apples-were-monitored]

Nick 1000% needs to be investigated and shut down. Something else I noticed, you can tell me if I'm wrong because I didn't watch as much of the Disney channel. But the Disney kids seem more well adjusted. Like I still think they need to be looked into, but I just hear and see a lot less issues from kids that worked at Disney.

i think it very much depends on the child. lindsay lohan grew up to have major problems but i can't tell you how much of that was disney and how much was her father kind of being a scumbag. i try not to follow celebrity gossip in general because i hate how exploitative and invasive it is and only go by what the celebrity chooses to disclose.

britney spears was also a disney kid but again i can't speak to how much disney played a part because i didn't watch that documentary and i've never listened to her music and don't know as much about her overall. i just know her parents fucking suck.

i think the distinction between disney and nickelodeon, at least in my mind, is that their censors were actually doing their damn jobs as far as i can tell. i can't help but feeling like i spent my former years being made an accessory to horrific grooming for someone's sick fetish. i'm still unpacking that and wondering if everything from slime time to debbie's catch phrase from the amanda show ("i like eggs") was some attempt for an executive to get his rocks off. anon from before was correct that this was systemic and that dan schneider didn't create the environment. if higher ups at the top didn't permit this behavior and endorse it, it wouldn't be allowed at all.

this seems to be an industry wide problem, at least as far as i'm aware from my area of study (hollywood). my main area of study has been judy garland, but i've heard things as well about bobby driscoll and drew barrymore. at this point any time i hear of a young star who went off the deep end, i assume something happened to them that they are under contract to not disclose or properly process.

#it's a miracle that the harry potter kids seem reasonably well adjusted but i don't know what the standards are in britain #abuse tw #rape tw

[muse-matrix]

Watch G-Witch 12.

I think I liked most things about this episode? But it’s annoying how many cliffhangers there were, when it’s three months until we get to see the after-effects of any of them.

Having Guel kill his dad was super fucked up, but it felt kind of earned? With Miorine and him both, we’ve seen Suletta’s “Move forward, gain two” mentality affect them and end up not quite working out perfectly, which is an interesting deconstruction of it when paired alongside with Suletta and Prospera’s talk this episode. If you move forward, you can gain two, but that doesn’t mean you won’t suffer doing it.

With Suletta’s own experience this episode, however... I think I kind of hate it? Not as a dramatic moment of shock and awe, but as a piece of writing. Having Suletta go from being SUPER squicked out by people dying in front of her, to swatting a dude like a fly, turning him into red paste, and then smiling and joking around literal seconds after the fact, all in the span of a handful of minutes, feels like way too big a jump for her character. It’s inconsistent and strongly dissonant with how she’s been portrayed thus far. It feels manufactured for the sake of being As Fucked Up As Possible, and doesn’t feel real at all.

And the worst part is, this still could have worked just fine. I don’t think it’s inconsistent if Suletta kills someone to save Miorine from a clear and obvious threat- Her swatting the guy and blood splattering everywhere is a shocking enough visual, and they didn’t need to have Suletta be visibly 100% fine with having just killed a man. She could be worried about Miorine’s safety, she could see her dad was there, and injured, and be more concerned about getting the two of them to safety more than anything, she could show her actual priorities and still have awareness of the circumstances she’s in. And the conflict still would have worked- Miorine is freaked out by how easily Suletta killed to save her because she has also been sheltered from the horrors of war and has never experienced something like that before. It’s completely believable and makes perfect sense for their characters thus far.

But instead, they had Suletta be as carefree and unaware as possible, when she was on the other side of this situation only an hour or two ago, at most. Probably less. It’s extremely disappointing to see.

I’ve seen some people speculate that “Move forward, gain two” is some kind of command phrase, and that Suletta is actually fully brainwashed, or something like that. And that would make Suletta’s behavior at the end “make sense”, but I’d still hate it, because it’d ruin the dynamics they have going with Prospera and Suletta- Where their relationship is clearly one in which they care about and love each other as family, and Prospera very clearly values Suletta’s happiness, helping her child the way a good mother would, but there were always these sinister undertones running underneath it all, because Prospera is extremely manipulative and has clearly been plotting some kind of shakespearean revenge this whole time. To have Suletta be straight up mind controlled by her would ruin that, and that would be a shame.

And as a last aside, I really hope Nika actually gets to catch a break. Poor girl must be damn near out of her mind at this point, and she doesn’t deserve any of it.

Overall, I’m pretty let down by this as a season finale. Which is a shame for a show that started out so strong and kept it up for most of its runtime.

#gwitch spoilers under the cut ofc

[nerdstrings]

I posted 2,275 times in 2022

That's 103 more posts than 2021!

31 posts created (1%)

2,244 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@livebloggingmydescentintomadness

@wigglebox

@bendingsignpost

@dduane

@angelcatsiel

I tagged 2,275 of my posts in 2022

#supernatural - 604 posts

#fanart - 598 posts

#our flag means death - 294 posts

#destiel - 225 posts

#random tag - 216 posts

#castiel - 203 posts

#dean winchester - 179 posts

#tumblr meta - 122 posts

#text post - 117 posts

#blackbonnet - 115 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#‘the old man fussing about him catching his death in the snow as if he won’t go running off to catch it with both hands on goddamn purpose’

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Yeah I’m gonna post this because honestly 37 is the truest version of myself yet. People throw around the phrase “living their best life” and good for them but have you considered aging even more and loving it with each new step? I could never have conceived of feeling this content when I was in my twenties. Can’t wait to round out the next decade. Happy Halloween birthday to me 🥳🎃🖤

11 notes - Posted October 31, 2022

#4

I saw one (1) video and I’m back on my sea shanty bullshit, but the point I want to make is that for OFMD season 2, Stede’s crew should learn some shanties (“it builds teamwork, guys! And some of us need a little help with our rhythm, hey? Plus, isn’t it fun?”) and it would be adorable while they stumble their way through learning to sing together – until we come to a scene on Blackbeard’s ship, in the dark, and the fog, while Ed watches moodily out over the silent bow, and from somewhere out in that deep oversea darkness comes a low, echoing hum of bassy harmonies that float hauntingly above the water lapping the hull, growing closer and more distinct as another ship’s silhouette materializes through the fog in the anemic moonlight with Stede standing out on the foremast spar among the rigging leading a dirge about lost love.

26 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#3

Cardassian party games be like

if you drop your egg you get the four lights torture

79 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

#2

See the full post

129 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Captain Christopher Pike is an infosec nightmare.

His command code string is 2-4-6-8-10. Like what

M’Benga insinuates it’s been this way for a long time and Pike has never changed it

The man is walking around with command codes that IT set for him by default and told him to reset the first time he logged in and he just. Never did that.

The Serene Squall pirate crew tortured him for this code. They could’ve just fuckin’ guessed it in one go.

But they didn’t know that and their mistaking this man for a competent firewall led to him great-british-baking his way into a mutiny incitation and escape. anyway

Pike is Starfleet’s best, a Boy Scout, who is also gonna get them fuckin’ hacked

This man is sooo socially engineerable

He has never once completed a required infosec course

I know this because he walks onto the USS Discovery and expects them to just hand him command. Because he’s nice and he said so and obviously he means it, scout’s honor. Nevermind that an official fleet communique has never arrived, or that his identity is entirely unconfirmed

He’s so wonderful because he’s so kind and trusting but he is so phishable for the same reasons

The human brain has spindle neurons that are associated with emotion and social behaviors. On earth, these evolved separately in only three types of creatures - great apes/humans, elephants, and dolphins. Cetacean Ops is a thing; Elephantid Ops is not. Presumably the dolphins keep their shit together and the elephants don’t. And then there’s the highly-decorated human captain of the fleet’s flagship just. Being an exceptional representative of his species while literally letting fucking anyone onto the bridge of his ship

He’s the type to repeatedly dismiss a notification about required password trainings every single day for months on end

Una sees it once and is like umm you know they fire people for not doing those, right?

But he knows about Discovery, what are they gonna do? Let him just leave?

So no, he never even gets reprimanded

No wonder he and Section 31 hate each other. They know this guy is a complete security idiot. Meanwhile, Pike thinks making someone buzz in with their own badge is rude and a morally gray area

Too many spindle neurons, that one

296 notes - Posted December 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#I had to wait and regenerate this to let the pike post plateau into slot no. 1 :) #tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #tumblr meme #op

[lascltrax]

Jay z reasonable doubt review

Within these streets tales of a hustler you also gain knowledge about the streets from an intellectual point of view such as in the song “Bring It On”, where Sauce Money rhymes “Said we was garbage, so fuck college/Street knowledge amazes the scholars where we coin phrases for dollars”. Songs like “Regrets” vividly tells of a hustler’s way of life while also describing the inner feelings and emotions of a hustler in the midst of the various things being done from gambling to drug trafficking to killings. With lush, soulful sampled beats by the likes of DJ Premier, Ski, and Clark Kent, Jay-Z was able to drop narrative lyrics depicting the lifestyle of a hustler. From the lyrics to the beats, nothing is missed or left out by the artists or the producers. In the beginning it was absolutely misunderstood.” Jay-Z really hit a major point with this statement in why it took so long for people to catch on to the album as a classic and to really cherish its value. On the Classic Albums: Reasonable Doubt DVD, Jay-Z states in regards to the album initial response from critics upon release in 1996, “…In the beginning people wrote it off as just another type of that record, a gangster persona. From the pounding heartbeats on the onset of “Can’t Knock The Hustle” to the “Roc-A-Fella y’all” echoing on the fade of “Regrets”, Jay-Z takes you on a journey with words weaving inside and out of the life of a hustler. This includes all of the other landmark albums in his catalog like The Blueprint (2001) and The Black Album (2003). Jay-Z’s debut album is considered to be one of his best, if not the best, album he has released to date. This album that I am referring to is Jay-Z seminal classic Reasonable Doubt. But out of all of these incredible albums is one that has indefinitely stood the test of time over 12 years later. Albums that were released during this amazing year include: It Was Written (Nas), All Eyez On Me (2Pac), The Score (Fugees), Ironman (Ghostface Killah), and many more. You want to know some stuff about the dude, HIT THE STAFF PAGE UP! But once again lets all give SBK a round of applause! (CLAPS) NOW GET YO ASS OFF THE STAGE AND GET TO WORK!!! – King Jermġ996, one of the best years in the golden age of Hip-Hop, was when many albums released that were immediately deemed classics and now stand established as timeless standards for many of today’s releases. I want ya’ll to give it up to the one, the only, SBK! This is the newest member to the nappyafro team! Be on the lookout for him and show him the same love ya’ll show us. We also added another member to the squad. It's that depth that helps Reasonable Doubt rank as one of the finest albums of New York's hip-hop renaissance of the '90s.We’ve expanded! The redesign isn’t the only thing that we’ve been working on. Perhaps that's why Jay-Z waxes reflective, not enthusiastic, about the darker side of the streets songs like "D'Evils" and "Regrets" are some of the most personal and philosophical he's ever recorded. In that sense, the album's defining cut might not be one of the better-known singles - "Can't Knock the Hustle," "Dead Presidents II," "Feelin' It," or the Foxy Brown duet, "Ain't No Nigga." It just might be the brief "22 Two's," which not only demonstrates Jay-Z's extraordinary talent as a pure freestyle rapper, but also preaches a subtle message through its club hostess: Bad behavior gets in the way of making money. Jay-Z the hustler isn't too different from Jay-Z the rapper: Hustling is about living the high life and getting everything you can, not violence or tortured glamour or cheap thrills. And even if he's rapping about rising to the top instead of being there, his material obsessions are already apparent. (Plus, neither artist has since approached the street cred of his debut, The Blueprint notwithstanding.) Parts of the persona that Jay-Z would ride to superstardom are already in place: He's cocky bordering on arrogant, but playful and witty, and exudes an effortless, unaffected cool throughout. Reasonable Doubt is often compared to another New York landmark, Nas' Illmatic: A hungry young MC with a substantial underground buzz drops an instant classic of a debut, detailing his experiences on the streets with disarming honesty, and writing some of the most acrobatic rhymes heard in quite some time. Skeptics who've never cared for Jigga's crossover efforts should turn to his debut, Reasonable Doubt, as the deserving source of his legend. Before Jay-Z fashioned himself into hip-hop's most notorious capitalist, he was a street hustler from the projects who rapped about what he knew - and was very, very good at it.

#Jay z reasonable doubt review

[noaltbruh]

Hello, I've accidentally deleted an Oc x character request I got a few days ago and I'm literally feeling so stupid.

To the person who requested it, I hope you'll see it anyway.

Deja que te ayude

Another stand battle, another Jotaro struggling on the cold street, the exact place where the defeat of the enemy had taken place.

He brought an hand to his stomach, the smell of blood coming from fresh wounds was not something he would have gotten used to so easily, how surprising can life be at times. Two weeks ago you were just attending school as usual, and now you find yourself forced to travel around the world with some idiotic old men, a gamer, an overly hyped French guy whose hair is higher than the Eiffel tower, an actual sane person and...Well...Jolie.

The boy's ideal type was someone humble, refined, quiet and feminine.

...So basically, anyone but the girl he ended up sharing this adventure with. Most of the time she was loud, arrogant, cocky, a trouble-maker and incapable of focusing on a single thing even for a second, although he knew that the latter was something she couldn't help.

He would observe her interact and tease Joseph and Caesar, cause troubles with Polnareff, try to get Kakyoin to lose whole he was playing videogames...Basically being as annoying as humanly possible.

Yet, every time Jotaro approached her, something always felt...Different. More than once, he asked himself if the one he was interacting with was actually Jolie, and not some yellow temperance-like stand back to get their revenge.

He'd often flinch when she rested her head on his shoulder, he'd sit and watch as she took the tenth photo that day in the same exact thing, he'd notice her stutter trying to form a sentence sometimes when faced with his huge figure in front of his eyes.

This behavior was something he just...Didn't understand. He was an excellent fighter, a talented student (to most people's surprise) and an extremely clever and mature person for his age. But when it came to figuring others out...The way they acted, the way they felt, well...That was a different story.

Did he...Scare her? Surely, that would have been new, at least she was less invading than all the girls at school. Still, she was his companion, one of the fee people he could trust to stand by his side in the almost impossible mission that was saving her mother.

But Jotaro, being the lone wolf he's always been, always had a preference to face the enemies in his own, trying to get as less people as possible involved.

Of course, putting emphasis on "trying" was quite fundamental.

No matter how hard he tried, just when he thought he had managed to protect the others from the enemy finding out about them, there she was: Jolie, already in first line to fight along side th other.

In a situation like that, not much could be done. As he let out a sigh, follow by his usual annoyed catch phrase, it was just a matter of time before the weekly stand user would find themselves forced in a hospital for the next four months at least.

"Are...You okay?"

Jolie whispered with difficulty, a sharpening pain filling the upper part of her chest from a terrible wound that still kept on bleeding, staining the rest of the clothes even further.

The boy just grunted in response, slowly getting up and covering his eyes with the point of his hat.

"Treat that scar, it looks bad"

He murmured in his usual monotone and uninterested.

"Uh? Oh yeah, almost forgot about it, heh"

She answered, as her stand was already taking care of fixing the damage done. With all the bruises and similar sorts of pain they had had to deal with to far, it was an understatement to say that the creature has had been put under quite a lot of pressure, especially mixed with the girl's hamon abilities.

"How can you forget about something like that? Your entire fucking chest is bleeding"

Jolie took a look at the other, staining an eyebrow. He was the one telling her to worry about herself, completely ignoring the fact that his body was filled with bruises scattered in every possible point and place.

"You're the one talking"

She thought to herself, without actually pronouncing a word out loud, she didn't have the courage to talk back as she would usually do when she was around him. She only pushed her stand to do its work faster, bickering between the two was always prwsent during the aftermath of a battle.

"Do you want me to fix yourself too?"

She asked, once she had finished patching herself up.

Jotaro hesitated for a moment. He knew his conditions were not the best, but as always, accepting help from others was something he did not enjoy. Most of all, being cured would have meant that Jolie had to touch every single wound on himself, physical contact always made him nervous and uncomfortable.

His reply was plain, simple and direct, just like him.

"No"

When those words hut her, Jolie looked away, arms crossed, as she let out a "Mph" and signed reassigned.

"Why? It'll take just a few minutes, I'll be fast, I promise"

She took one step closer to the other, but he walked back.

"I don't care"

"...Alright, suit yourself"

She added and closed the conversation there. If there was one yeah the two of them shared, but that was incredibly obnoxious for both, was how incredibly stubborn they could become at times.

While Jolie didn't seem as hot headed as him, at first, her apparent decision to let him do as he wanted would have soon turned out to be just something temporary, just enough to keep him at bay and satisfied for the time being.

In fact, after that small interaction, they headed back go their hotel in complete silence. They were the type of people who didn't require talking as something necessary in order to enjoy someone's presence, although this time, the silence that surrounded them didn't exactly feeling as pleasant as it would most of the times.

The girl could notice that his breathing was heavier than how it should be, but didn't comment nor show any sort of reaction regarding it. All they had to do now was to report what had happened to the others and then, hopefully, getting some rest, before catching yet another train.

They were welcomed back by Joseph, who was in the middle of inspecting a map with Caesar. The two old men asked them where they had been, and after a brief conversation, the teens were free to leave and head to their rooms, a well-warned break waited for both of them.

Jotaro sad on his bed, not caring about the sheets slowly changing colors due to the red of his wounds. He was reading a book Kakyoin had given him some time ago, when his peace was interrupted by the weak sound of someone knocking on his door. He knew perfectly who it was.

"What is it, now?"

He said, not bothering to give the other a single glance, as she quietly laid next to him.

"What are you reading?"

He considered for a moment not answering her question, but he knew that it probably wouldn't have been enough to make her go away.

"A mystery novel, Kakyoin said it's worth reading"

"Ah...I didn't know you listened to other people's advices"

Jolie tried to contain her own laughter, such sassiness wasn't usually so obvious when she spoke to him.

"Surprise"

He rolled his eyes to the sky...Or rather, to the room's ceiling, if that counted.

The quietness from early re-emerged, only interrupted once in a while by the sound of the curtains in the room touching, moving following the rhythm of the spring breeze.

The girl truly did not know what to do to get his attention, it felt like interacting with a wall. A black, rigid one, where every brick fell into place.

Slowly, her hands started moving...Snatching the book away from him.

"OI, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, BITCH?"

"...Figured that if I did this, you would have at least looked at me"

She closed the novel and put in on the side of the bed, giving the other a small smile.

"Will you let me heal you now? You should seriously worry more about your body, how are you going to defeat DIP in such conditions?"

Jotaro looked down, unsure of how to answer.

"It'll pass, everything does"

"Well"

Her stand was already floating above her, only waiting for her user's command to interfere.

"With my help, it'll pass faster, doesn't that sound nice?"

"Urgh jeez, are we done yet? Can I do my job or you're just going to keep me waiting for long"

The embodiment of her own soul was calling her an idiot, way to go Jolie. She gave it a bad look, when she heard something: a faint laughter.

"Heh...I know you're an head in the clouds, but not even controlling your stand?"

The girl with dyed hair put an hand behind her head.

"Not my fault my own spirit doesn't like me"

"Technically, it is"

"WILL YOU QUIT IT ALREADY AND CURE HIM?!"

Before the light hearted argument could continue, the boy raised his head.

"Why are you so fixated on this? These aren't mortal wounds, you know?"

"Neither was mine"

She extended her arm in his direction, her expression softening a little.

"Please...deja que te ayude"

He didn't understand Spanish, but he knew how to speak Italian a bit thanks you his grandmother, making out the meaning of what she had said, or at least he hoped so.

He crossed his legs and turned into her direction, taking the jacket of his uniform off.

"...Do your thing, but be quick"

Jolie smiled.

"I will"

#jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure #...Part 3 #God this feels so weird #jjba part 3 #part 3 jjba #jojo part 3 #part 3 jojo #jojo stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders #jojo oc #jjba oc #jjba original character #jotaro x oc #jotaro x character #jotaro kujo

[modgirlyreposts-revamped]

Ok about my cruel!AU, or the YD!AU as I've been calling it-

I have a stupid nickname for this Millie as I often do with many of my AU characters (e.g Vanny as "the vanilla rabbit", Michael as "the son and heir"), Millie's out of universe nickname is "the unfortunate girl". That's not related to anything about the AU itself I just like the nickname.

Millie x Dylan x Brooke is sort of canon in this AU, they're not officially dating but that's about the only factor keeping it from being 100% canon. YD!Millie isn't really in a good mental space to be in a relationship, so not labeling it allows her to receive that love without feeling trapped by the commitment.

I've come to the realization my Millie probably has BPD bc that is literally just a projection of a big relationship issue due to my BPD OOP-

Oh well.

Anyways, as for Millie's grandpa, he and his relationship with Millie are... complicated.

Since Millie's grandma died, Maurice- who was never really the best person to begin with- has just wanted a nice normal family, in which Millie was a major issue due to her pessimistic attitude and actions reminding him all too much of his past as a child, which he believes he's gotten "better" from and wants to make sure Millie gets "better" from as well. He programs Funtime Freddy to scare her into changing due to her consistent "bad" and moody behavior that she refuses to shake to the point it begins to encroach on the family's Christmas. He scares Millie again into keeping his actions a secret, though through concern and determination for their friend Dylan and Brooke over time get her to crack. He's controlling of what she can and can't do. She can't act out against him, be moody or harsh, push him away, refuse meals, make an excessive fuss about minor things, play her music loudly, obsess over death, tell ANYONE what he did, EVER, or hang out with people he doesn't approve of. She can dress goth and hide in her room, since he thinks letting her keep that will help her cope and realize he was right to do what he did, which he fucking wasn't. And of course he's not going to make her throw away her entire wardrobe or force her to be social. It's just not logical or ethical. Furthermore, he wants her to be happy, and forcing her into constant distress will only make her worse.

Maurice at first has no reason to be disapproving of Dylan and Brooke. They're kind kids who care about his granddaughter and seem to be good for him. But over time, he begins to notice a slight shift in their behavior. He's not an expert on body language, but he notices how Dylan- who usually wears a leather jacket- will often take off his jacket and pass it to Millie or drape it over her shoulders if he's nearby for an extended time. He'll speak louder to sound more confident, and casually mention often how he doesn't like adults, always making a point to say that doesn't apply to Maurice. (The repetition of the initial negative phrase over time will cancel out the impact of the positive follow-up. Fun trick I've learned for telling people I fucking hate them.) Brooke, who's usually pretty affectionate anyway, will run her fingers through Millie's hair, increase the amount of times she praises or compliments Millie tenfold, her tone becomes icy when speaking to Maurice, and between the two of them, they will get a lot physically closer to Millie when he's around for a long time, going from sitting next to her on the ground to laying on top of her, one of each of their legs straddled around her back and one arm meeting the other's over her shoulders. It's a strange display given Maurice is perfectly kind to Millie now that she's "improving" (with a controlling catch of course), but Millie adamantly denies having told them anything and when he casually brings up Funtime Freddy in a conversation, they seem to have no visible external reaction, so he keeps an eye on them and begins trying to limit Millie's time around them, but eventually deems that a mostly useless endeavor since they go to the same school though he's always sure to remind Millie how he doesn't really like those two whenever she wants to hang out.

The YD!AU?

Ok, now I'm really invested in this AU, I love them sm- (except Maurice, he can get shoved down a flight of stairs for all I care-)

#asks #answered #valleyfthdolls

[softluci]

aggressive affection, i think

(part two here!)

[ @yourlocalsinnamonroll​ (hi!) sent me an ask to do more gen z headcanons and i started working on something for her, except it isn’t actually a set of headcanons, but rather a really long...one-shot? but anyway, i thought of actual headcanons that i can share now, so i can return to my ROOTS hopefully this will do in the meantime. ]

i’m not sure if this is something unique to younger people, but i am one hundred percent sure that younger people do it a lot, just going off of the behavior of my friends and i. (i’m gonna tell you now that this isn’t entirely sfw, so minors dni please and thank u)

but i’ve found that it’s pretty common for friends to be, like, aggressively affectionate with one another, for lack of a better phrase. if not aggressively affectionate, then just really flirtatious, often for no reason, and it is still meant entirely in a platonic sense. some examples of this that i have experienced include, but are not limited to:

“i’m gonna eat you,” “do u wanna make out,” “just remember, no matter WHAT happens, i will ALWAYS wanna make out with you,”  “i have literally wanted to fuck all of you at some point,” “let’s have sex,” “stfu before i kiss you,” [points to lap] “is this seat taken?” “every day i’m like, ‘wow, [name] is so cool, we should make out,’” and so on and so forth.

so you can imagine the fun i’m about to have.

lucifer

“blindsided,” does not even begin to describe what you’ve done to this man. while his recovery time was quick, he was still so, so confused. 

all he said was, “you look nice today,” why did you threaten to kiss him? was that even a threat? 

he doesn’t know because you said, “stop before you get kissed on the mouth,” but it doesn’t matter because you failed to consider that he is obsessed with you in dire need of a kiss on the mouth, and you, silly thing that you are, just provided conditions under which he can get one. 

that said, have fun trying to explain to this man that you were joking while he’s holding you against him with the most smug look on his dumb little face. if you don’t wanna kiss him, okay, but by the time he feels like letting you go, your face is gonna be scorching and you will have properly learned not to do that again. unless you enjoyed yourself, in which case—

by the way, if you believe in a higher power, you had better pray he doesn’t do this to you because now that you’ve planted the idea in his villainous little brain, he’s just biding his time. so the next time you compliment him innocently, and he says, “be quiet before i kiss you,” like the monster he is, assert your dominance by kissing him first, it’s the only way to maintain your dignity. 

mammon

why would you do that to him. he is literally in love with you, you can’t be doing this. he knows he’s an attractive person, but you can’t tell him that, and you especially can’t do it by flirting with him, it’s embarrassingly disarming. especially since he was going to make fun of you once he saw that you were looking at the issue of majolish with him on the cover. he had a plan and everything, and you ruined it. he was gonna say something dumb cool, after which you would be embarrassed , and he would laugh. 

but then you looked at him, said, “i’m gonna eat you,” and his entire plan was thwarted. now you have to stand there and watch him struggle to form a sentence while his face gets red. you should take this opportunity to bite him, give him a little nom on the shoulder or something, just to razz him. it’ll be great, i promise. 

luckily, he can’t even think about doing this to you without having to lie down, so you should be safe—unless, of course, he catches both you and himself by surprise. so if you get nommed on, you had it coming. 

levi 

you menace. you absolute villain. you’re laughing. 

levi was about to go into a match he was nervous about, and then you said, “it’s okay, no matter what happens, i will always wanna make out with you,” and then he dropped his controller and blacked out, and you’re laughing. 

you’re terrible. absolutely awful. acquaint yourself with shame while you blow cool air into his face and shake him awake. 

when he does wake up, and he reminds you that he’s the avatar of envy, do nawt be surprised. 

try to explain to him that you were kidding and let it slip that you say these types of things to everyone and you’re getting a tail around your waist. no matter how much he might stutter while he makes his point, the fact remains that he’s the only one you’re allowed to say these things to now. you can do it to the others while he’s not around if you feel so inclined, but he’s going to find out eventually, so good luck explaining yourself while he doesn’t keep his tail still when he uses it to hold you in place. 

your only saving grace here is that he is physically incapable of doing it to you, but, you know. that probably gets overridden by how possessive he’s gonna get.

satan

you’re deranged. or just really confident. or a fool. it doesn’t matter, you fucked up. he said a normal thing, and then you threw him for a loop. 

you were nervous about an exam the next day, he said, “you’re a capable person, you have nothing to be worried about.” 

and then you, evidently forgetting that he is not one of your human friends, said, “flattery will get you made out with,” and tried to walk away. 

first of all, how was that flattery? he was stating a fact. second of all, who said he didn’t wanna make out with you🤨. he never said that, you are making assumptions about him and his character. 

anyway, he has no idea where you think you’re going, but you didn’t make it very far before he caught up to you anyway. 

when he repeats what you said back to you in the form of a question, with that deceptively polite look on his face, know that he is being rhetorical. do not bother trying to explain yourself, it’ll be difficult to do so in a convincing manner while he’s backing you up to the nearest wall. do not be surprised when he takes this opportunity to blindside you with praise, directly into your ear, with that fatally smooth voice of his. and do NAWT be surprised when he pulls back and says, “why am i not being made out with?” with a dumb little smile. it brings him a lot of joy to see you squirm.

you don’t even have a saving grace here. this man is ruthless, he’s gonna do this to you literally whenever he wants, and he won’t even let you look away, let alone run away, so find joy in the monster you have created. 

asmo

listen. unless you are genuinely empty headed, there is absolutely no way you did this on accident. 

he wasn’t even doing anything out of character either, it was the middle of self-care night, he was putting moisturizer on your face for you, and he went, “you’re even cuter up close,” which is a normal, tame thing for him to say.

so unless you just have uncontrollable knee-jerk reactions, no way did you say, “so make out with me then,” to this man, by accident.

you’re lucky he has some knowledge of the fact that you sometimes say things that aren’t smart, so he didn’t just immediately jump on you; however, you are by no means in the Clear. 

you blinked and he was nose to nose with you and basically in your lap. now you have to deal with his wandering hands while you try and explain yourself—that is, if you can even overcome how flustered you are, which you probably can’t. luckily, he knows you probably didn’t mean it, but he’s still asmo, so he takes it upon himself to be respectfully heinous like the gentleman he is.

so when he somehow manages to get even closer to you and says, “honey, you should really get a handle on those impulses of yours, unless you plan on following through,” like the bastard he is, know that from that point forward, whatever happens is on you. 

here is another man with whom you have no saving grace; now that you’ve given him the idea that he can be more explicit with you,,, well.

beel

you’re a heathen. why would you do something like this. well, you know what, maybe you aren’t that much of a heathen, considering that you did bake cookies for him. that was really sweet of you, so he thanked you and complimented your skill, like a regular person.

so why, exactly, did you say, “i only accept thanks in the form of kisses, preferably with tongue,” ? something is genuinely not right with you. 

now you have this man standing there, confused and red in the face. he’s trying to do the math, and nothing is adding up. like, it’s definitely doable, he can definitely do that, but, like, why would you make this request so suddenly?

this is probably the only instance in which you can coherently say, “i was kidding, you don’t actually have to do that,” and it almost doesn’t work. 

you absolutely should not have been leaning against the counter because now he’s standing in front of you, and you have nowhere to run. 

however, the thing about beel is that he is someone who flusters people without meaning to, so he has no idea of the effect that his, “are you sure?” has on you. 

luckily, you’re still mostly coherent because you know that beel isn’t heinous like his brothers, so you manage to tell him that he doesn’t have to kiss you if he doesn’t want to because you were kidding. 

you have every right to be surprised when, all of a sudden, you’re sitting on the counter, and he says, “why do you think i don’t want to?” 

do you have a saving grace with this man? kind of. he would never say what you said or something similar, but the next time he compliments you and you choose to be normal and say, “thank you,” he’s gonna ask if he should kiss you, so try not to collapse.

belphie

now. he isn’t the Worst Person you could’ve done this with. but by god you are out of your mind.

your first mistake was choosing to lie down next to him, not because you had plans to be a menace, but because he is always a menace and has a thing for reminding you, which he can do more easily when you’re in proximity to him. 

so when he said, out of nowhere, “are you ticklish?” you should’ve just rolled away, which wouldn’t have worked, but it would have been less chaotic then saying, “you are legally required to make out with me before you try and find out.” 

you said it so casually that he was almost stunned into staying still, but his recovery time was excellent.

the next thing you knew, you were laying underneath a very smug, very menacing man, who seemed entirely too prepared to listen to what you had to say for once. 

“legally?”

okay, so, maybe you should’ve chosen your words more carefully, but he was seconds away from tickling you, so you didn’t exactly have time to defend yourself. you can never backtrack with belphie anyway, so it makes sense that you went headlong into your claim, telling him that yes, this is, in fact, the law of the land. 

“i was never one to pay attention to the law, but since you’re being so insistent, i guess i don’t really have a choice—”

leave it to him to pretend like you’re a burden as if he isn’t literally head over heels in love with you like everyone else fond of you. bastard. 

there is absolutely nothing to save you from this man. he isn’t tactful enough to wait for an opportunity to do this to you, like satan or lucifer, so expect to be Just Sitting There when he tells you that you’re required to make out with him right this instant—it’s the law. 

#obey me! #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

[ramp-it-up]

Request:

Y/N is for one year in America and try to learn the language More (she is from Germany ).

Chris saw her at target and realized that she was kind of lost and was loved to help her 👀

Okayyyy Nonnie! How's this for a challenge?

At first I didn't know how I was going to get there from here, but I cruised IG for some German inspiration. As a result, instead of Y/N, reader is named Maëlle. I also struggled with the knowledge that most Germans know more English than Americans know of any other language, but this is all in fun. 😛

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (Maëlle)

Word Count: Around 2K

Warnings: 18+, RPF, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE, not proofread, Google Translate for the German, verry limited American knowledge of Germans and German culture, not full on Smut, but smutty thots, thoughts of oral sex, fingering, degradation kink, allusions to Dom! behavior, disregarding of stranger danger, the Red Sox, and an age gap.

Maëlle

**********************************

One of your goals when you got settled was to go to Target, Ziel when you arrived in Boston for your graduate exchange year at Boston University.

You understood a great deal of English and could speak many phrases, but you’d hoped your year in America would make you fluent.

You were proud that you were able to get from the BU Student Union to the store. You surprised yourself with the ease that you used your phone to help you translate for what you needed.

Now, you were standing in front of the doors, almost in tears, trying to find where your Uber was to pick you up.

You didn’t pay attention to which way you entered and you needed to find VanNess street. It was about to leave. You suddenly felt helpless, hilflos.

—-

Chris needed to pick up some sunscreen before the game, he couldn't afford a burn right before filming. Even though he had his Red Sox cap on, he still needed some high grade sunblock.

He hurried through the doors of the Target near Fenway Park, head down, trying not to get recognized.

He passed by some beautiful long bronze legs and followed them up a smoking hot body clothed in a scarlet Boston University t-shirt tied up tight and short blue jean skirt.

Your face was framed by waist length blonde braids and your eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

Your lips deserved ten minutes all on their own, but he kept it moving, not wanting to seem creepy.

You were gorgeous, although you looked flustered. Chris didn’t slow his roll, because you were probably waiting on someone.

When he came back through, five minutes later, he heard your voice and slowed down. He was surprised, but shouldn’t have been. There were black people all over the world.

Even in Germany.

“Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die Van Ness Street ist? Can you tell me? Where is Van Ness Street?”

Your accent was heavy, but passersby just assumed you were crazy or joking with them and ignored you.

Chris was ashamed. That wasn’t what he wanted Boston to be. Even though he was close to being late for the first pitch, he stopped for you. He summoned some German from filming in Europe.

“Kann ich Ihnen helfen?” It was one thing he knew how to say with perfect inflection.

You perked up and smiled at him. “Ach bist du Deutscher? You’re German?”

You looked into the face of the handsome stranger. His eyes. Verdammt!

Chris melted a little bit. When you smiled, you were even more beautiful. Chris smiled back at you, smitten. He laughed.

“No. Italian.”

You understood, but you were confused. Why was this handsome American saying he was Italian and speaking to you in German? And why was he so familiar?

“Oh, Ich entschuldige mich. Sorry.” You smiled again, and Chris forgot all about the game. He wanted to try to talk to you for hours.

“No worries, he said. “Bitte?”

This handsome man’s German was indeed poor. He’d fooled you. He was a good actor. Something pinged in the back of your mind, but you overlooked it. Somehow, he’d made you feel better.

“Ich habe meinen Uber vermisst. Uber, gone!” You made a motion with your hand. “Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die VanNess Street ist?”

“Ohhhh! VanNess is this way,” he pointed toward the other side of the store, and he started leading you through.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you followed him.

You neared the electronics department and there was a giant movie display with dvds. The man saw it, pulled up, stopped, grabbed your hand and quickly led you back the other way.

You were confused.

“Come to think of it, I’ll give you a ride, my car is back out this way. Druben?”

Chris was not going to ruin his afternoon and a chance to talk to you by getting caught signing autographs in Target. He loved his fans, but he already liked you.

You followed him back out of the sliding doors to the parking lot and a blank Range Rover. You just went along with him, your hand feeling at home in his.

Then the panic set in.

You didn’t know this man from Adam.

Your mother had warned you about getting kidnapped by an American serial killer. This was it. You hated it when she was right.

“Wait!”

You said it perfectly, and the man caught your anxiety.

Chris stopped as he tried to open the door for you. He looked into your worried eyes. Shit, he’d gotten carried away. He looked down to where your hands were still locked.

He couldn’t help but smile at them. You smiled, too. Then he looked at you, blue eyes looking like the sea. You smiled back, somehow knowing that you were safe. You leaned back on the car.

“I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Christopher, what is yours?”

“Maëlle.”

Your smile was brightening his entire life. He was into you.

“That’s beautiful. Das ist schön?”

You smiled wider at his compliment. Then you bit your lip. Chris' knees got weak and he took a step closer to you to regain balance.

You were in each other’s space, Chris looking down at you and you at him. You were both getting warm even though it was a cool September day.

Chris pulled your hand instinctively, and you were even closer, your fingers entwined in his close to his thigh, which you could sense flexing through his jeans.

You were staring at his lips and he was doing the same as the butterflies flew around your stomach.

Were you really considering kissing someone you’d just met in Target? What would your mother think?

That thought made you smirk.

“What are you thinking?”

He was leaning over you, his voice in a lower register now. His breath tickled your ear and made you moan slightly.

Chris wanted to know what was going on in that mind of yours, if you were as crazy as he was feeling this kind of connection so fast.

You understood exactly what he was saying, but you just cocked your head and smiled as if you didn’t. You didn’t want him to think that you were thinking of his hands all over you, in your most intimate places.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to clear his head and regain blood flow to his brain. His cock was hard being this close to you and he had to regain composure.

He wasn’t that reckless kid he used to be, but man he wanted to do some depraved things to you. Like drag his tongue up your…

He had to stop. Chris took a step back.

You watched as his tongue peeled out to lick his bottom perfect pink lip. It was strange, but you felt like you knew him. And you wanted him to know you. Intimately.

And now those perfect lips were moving, but you weren’t paying close enough attention to translate what he was saying.

“Can I give you a lift to campus?”

You cocked your head in that pretty way again. He wondered what it would be like to feel your lips. On his lips. On his tattoos, around his…

Chris cleared his throat and tried to think of the words.

“Kann ich mitnehmen?”

He was so cute. You smiled brighter and nodded, “Yes, Christopher.”

Then you gestured to your bra-less breasts in your thin t-shirt. Chris could tell your nipples were hard. He licked his lips and looked around. This was a development.

Then he got your message. He shook his head, chuckling that his thoughts were in the gutter.

“Ooooooh! Boston University! You’re on campus. Yeah, that’s right near here. I’ll take you.”

“Danke. Thanks you, Christopher.”

Your smile would be the end of him. He had to think of a creative way to get your number.

“Hey! Let’s take a picture!” He had his phone out.

You were confused, but maybe this is what Americans did to get to know each other. Take pictures with strangers.

He took a couple of pics and then opened the door for you.

You brushed past him to get in, and Chris allowed his eyes to take in your form, especially your shapely legs.

You noticed him checking you out, and immediately got goosebumps, your nipples hardening again. Your panties were a little moist.

“Let’s just get you… “

Chris reached across you for the seatbelt with his right hand, face coming near yours as he leaned into the car.

“Buckled in…”

Now you were sure your panties were soaked.

Chris allowed his mind to go places, like your pussy, which he was sure was sweet, wet, hot and…

“….Tight.”

Chris gulped, trying not to drool all over you, although he would love to spit in your mouth and make you swallow as he fucked you raw.

“Danke.”

You whispered behind a breathy moan. You wanted not only to ride in this man’s car. You wanted to ride this man in his car.

Your eyes flickered down to his jeans and that’s when Chris realized that he had a raging hard on. He quickly put his hand in his pocket, trying to play it off, flashed a smile and closed the door quickly.

You giggled at how huge what you thought you saw was. You fanned yourself while you waited for him to get in trying to remember your decorum.

Chris stood outside the back of the car for a minute, trying to catch his breath and think. He had to be at least 15 year older than you, he just met you, and you didn’t speak English. None of this made sense.

He was going to drop you off at campus and try to be at the game for the second inning. And act his age.

Christopher got back in the car, much more formal, and started driving.

He looked over to see your legs open and started to wonder how easy it would be to reach over and under your skirt, pull your panties to the side, if you were wearing any, and…

Chris cleared his throat and focused on the road.

You could tell the air had changed. He was different. You wondered what happened.

You looked at his profile and decided that he was turned off by you being so forward. You decided to straighten up, so you did so, literally and figuratively.

You sat up straight and crossed your legs, like prim and proper young ladies do.

The curve of your spine and the crossing of your legs made Chris irrationally angry. It was like you were closing yourself off to him. Then he remembered.

You didn’t know each other.

You pointed out where to go as you neared your apartment. Chris pulled up in front of your unit and you both started talking.

“Danke, Christopher.”

“Hey, Maëlle…”

You both chuckled. Chris continued.

“Let me send you that photo. What’s your number?” He was fiddling with his phone. Then handed it to you. “Type it in for me.”

You grinned wide and his sly smile answered you. Now you understood. You entered your number and handed it back to him, your fingers sparking as you touched.

You were breathless.

“Well…”

“Christopher…”

You two interrupted each other again.

This time you continued.

“Thank you.”

You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Chris closed his eyes. Your lips felt as soft as he imagined. He wanted to do the whole turn his head trick but he wasn’t 23 anymore. But you sure made him feel like it.

He did turn to look at you as you got out of the car and waved after you closed it. You swung your bag in one hand as you walked toward the building, also swinging your hips, watching him as he drove away.

Chris watched you too, as far as he could in the rearview. When you disappeared from sight, he said, “Fuck it,” did a uturn and peeled rubber back to your apartments. He rolled down the window.

“Maëlle! Maëlle!” You stopped just before you reached your door. Chris grinned at you. “You ever been to an American baseball game before?”

You skipped back down the walk happily, grinning back as you leaned in the open window. You cocked your head in that way.

“No, but I like playing wit the balls.”

Chris groaned. He couldn’t tell if you were talking about sports or something else. But he’d figure it out later. You climbed in the car, winked at him and crossed your legs.

Chris licked his lips as he drove back toward Fenway Park, thinking about how he would teach you about keeping your legs open that night.

——

Hope it’s okay Nonnie! ❤️

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou @donutloverxo @wallowsgirl14 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld @justanormalfangirlsworld @lost-in-a-state-of-mind @london-grunge @pheebsyells @douxtille @thesecretlifeofdaydreams @ximaginex @jdmacca92 @fofisstilinski @dyapraxicwhore @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @aaronhotchiee @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain @mostannoyingbillioner @anacravalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers @txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @assoftheamericana @ikatieebabyy @nerdymugsharkempath @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjean @maroonsunrise83

#Chris Evans #chris evans x female reader #Chris Evans x German reader #Chris Evans smut #chris evans x black reader #chris evans imagine #ask dj #chria evans x ofc reader

[sweetestlamb]

Try A Little Tenderness

Summary: Han Seo gets treated with kindness and affection and he doesn’t know how to process these foreign feelings. Also he gets a first eye contact of the mafia couple. 

Author's note: A few of you said you would like to read this so I popped it out real quick in between real life and all that mess, I did something like this for IOTNBO and really enjoyed that sometimes it’s fun to see a relationship from an outsider’s pov. I also saw a few people say that they ship our puppy with a certain someone so I threw in some crumbs because the visuals would be very pretty and good for my health. It has talks of past abuse (see psychopath brother) but I don’t think it’s any darker than the regular show. Happy reading! 

He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to realize that he's nowhere near good or smart enough to keep alive such less work so closely to them and listen to their plans. They trust him, he can tell by the way that conversations don't taper off if he comes into the room with another question about how to use the copy machine- there are so many buttons and it's confusing figuring it out by myself.

This first time he sheepishly asks for help after reading articles online and coming no closer to understanding the massive machine, he expects more fanfare; a slap on the cheek, a rap on the forehead or just a simple sigh and "idiot" that he would smile in the face of but the word would stick to his heart for days on end. His eyes were glued to the ground after his inquiry so he missed whatever look they originally gave him but surprisingly enough Ms. Hong stepped forward, he almost flinched as the hand approached his view but instead of pain he just felt warmth on his shoulder.

Guiding him with the hand on his shoulder, she led him back over to the machine and patiently explained all the buttons to him, even smiling gently when he pulled out a little notepad to write down the many directions.

"You really only need these three buttons this is the power button, but this thing is ancient so sometimes it may need a good kick." He jumped marginally at the loud bang of her foot against the side, quickly writing that down as well.

Really old. Needs kick.

"Then you press this button to choose the amount of copies, choose double or single sided and choose with staple and that's it." His eyes darted rapidly trying to keep up with her directions while taking his notes. It sounded simple enough but his brother had taught him that if there was a way to fuck something up, he would find it, naturally. So his nerves skyrocketed when she turned to him with a grin and said, "Are you ready for another test? Make 20 copies of these." She handed him a small stack of papers. 

His heart jerked in his chest and suddenly he was fifteen years old again staring at a test sheet and knowing none of the answers. It was hard to study with the fear of Han Seok barging into his room at any moment to do another sick experiment on him, once he had sliced his finger just to watch it bleed. He'd told his father that he accidentally cut himself while cooking and let the shame wash over him as he got a look that screamed that he was incompetent and pathetic.

"Han Seo? Are you okay? You seem like you're a million miles away." The pretty lawyer's concerned voice brought him back to reality and he could feel the stares of the other men in the room on his skin, Vincenzo being the heaviest. He really didn't want to look stupid on front of the man for some unexplored reason. He swallowed hard before facing the machine, feeling like he was going off to war.

He pressed the big power button, shaken when nothing happened but suddenly remembered his notes and with an almost unnoticeable glance he found his answer, swiftly kicking the beast of a copier he watched it roar to life and almost on autopilot he mimicked the motions that Ms. Hong had just demonstrated and watched in terror as the paper was swallowed and the copies were spit out from the compartment in the bottom.

I did it.

Everything seemed to be in order and the machine hadn't exploded. Yet. 

"Oh."

The triumphant smile that had graced his face slide off like rain on a windowpane.

"I messed up. I'm sorry. Please let me try-"

He was bowing before he could stop himself, shame a familiar friend at this point in his life. There were very little moments that he didn't feel a tsunami of shame crashing over him in a thick heavy sheet.

"You just forget to select stapled. But that's minor, we can just staple them by hand." She responded nonchalantly picking up the copies and bringing them over to the table, "Good job though. Next time you'll probably get it perfect right?"

It was pathetic. He was pathetic. There was no reason for pride to grow in his chest like a mustard seed, he had only completed a basic task. Something that even a monkey could, actually monkeys could do even more complicated tasks.  It was nothing to be proud of. He shouldn't have been smiling as largely as he was, they would think he was insane and kick him out.

But.

She'd said he did a good job. That wasn't a phrase he was used to hearing, he wasn't someone who did anything worth praising. He shuffled away back to the shelves that needed to be organized in alphabetical order, moving a large file to the front of the row unaware that there was an equally huge smile on his face. It stayed there for the rest of the day.

Working there was different from working with his brother. Astronomically. Nobody hit him there, even when he made mistakes. Instead he just got three heads over his shoulder helping him fix said mistake or Mr. Nam pushing his chair out of the way and taking over with only a gentle chide of, "Be careful next time." And it's clear that they all care for and respect each other. It's evident in the way that there's no clear hierarchy at the law firm, when they have meetings they alternate on who makes the coffee for the team, take turns buying meals and they are all allowed to speak and share their ideas without waiting for approval. It's nothing like he's used to and it makes him wonder if this is normal and what he's used to is...not.

It's enough to overwhelm him.

Then something catches his attention in the peripheral of his eye, Ms. Hong impatiently goes to take a sip of her coffee ignoring Vincenzo's firm warning against doing so and she flinches at the heat of the beverage, sticking out her tongue instantly after the first sip, blowing and huffing theatrically- something he's grown used to seeing from her. This isn't what shocks him though, it's Vincenzo's reaction. Immediately he walks over to the water cooler, filling a little paper cup before bringing it back over to her and thrusting the cool liquid into her outstretched hands.

"I told you to be careful." He says voices filled with exasperation as she gulps down the water, shooting him puppy dog eyes.

"I thouf it mould be cool enouf." She replies around her extended tongue and he watches the interaction with wide eyes, that only grow larger when the murderous Mafia member picks up the lawyers mug of steaming liquid and starts to blow on her coffee, his lips puckered into a perfect o. Ms. Hong watches absently as if this is expected behavior and after a few minutes, Vincenzo takes a sip of her coffee deeming it cool enough before handing it back to her. She takes a sip dangerously close to the spot his mouth had just occupied and hums at the temperature, shooting him a brilliant smile. To his utter surprise the usually stoic Mafia member smiles back fondly, before walking off to make a call. Ms. Hong watches him walk away before realizing that he's watching their interaction and a delicate blush blossoms in her cheeks before she stutters walking off to her table.

He glances between the two with his head tilted. Feeling curious.

Once he starts looking it's almost indecent how often the two touch each other, Vincenzo's hand never too far from Ms. Hong's back or arm and she never reacts to the sudden touches, no flinching or tensing up when a foreign hand is suddenly on her person. That's a new concept for him, he doesn't like surprise touches.

Then there's the fact that Mr. Cassano never allows Ms. Hong to hold anything, when she comes bustling through the doors with bags in her hand the smell of pasta permeating the room the older man is already making his way across the room tugging the bags from her hands wordlessly. He places them carefully on the table before smoothly dragging out her chair and guiding her into it with a hand on her waist.

"I brought your favorite. Authentic Italian food." She smirks up at him, opening the containers and he feels his mouth water at the tantalizing aroma that fills the room even more than before.

"It smells amazing! Where did you find authentic Italian food?" He asks inserting himself into their conversation and for a minute, he second guesses himself gearing up for a blow. But it never comes and Ms. Hong waves him closer, pushing a container of thick noodles in his direction.

"Are you hungry? Here have some!" She shoves chopsticks into his hand and watches him eagerly and he can do nothing but follow her orders, stuffing the tomato sauce drenched noodles into his mouth. When he looks up he sees that they are both watched him avidly, awaiting his review and he smiles around his bulging cheeks putting up two thumbs.

"It's delicious! Best Italian food I've ever had!" He stares excitedly and he's unprepared for Vincenzo's sudden glare, it's the first time the man has thrown such a look his way he gulps nervously at the unnerving sight.

"What- did I say something wrong?" He warily asks watching the Italian man angrily stomp off whilst muttering something indecipherable to him but that makes Ms. Hong smile mischievously, grabbing the container and chasing after the fleeing man.

"Stop being a snob! Have some, say ahhhh!" He can't comprehend the sight that he's watching, dumbfounded as the petite lawyer hangs on Mr. Cassano's arm and tries to feed him the Italian food.

"No! I don't want it, stop! Why do you keep bringing that here?" The Italian Mafia boss whines pushing her away but he notes that he never pushes her too hard, his shoves are very soft barely rocking her slight body. When she starts to chase him around the room, Han Seo can only watch in shock the behavior too childish for him to reconcile that these are the same people who have been thwarting all his brother's plans. Not even Mr. Nam entering the office is enough to stop their shenanigans and in the end it's Vincenzo who admits defeat, backed into a wall. Han Seo waits for her to give him the food and for this moment to come to an end. But neither one of them make a move, frozen against the wall staring at each other looking a million miles away.

It's then that it clicks for him.

They are more than just partners. 

When one of the various plaza tenants burst through the doors only then is the tense moment severed, Ms. Hong jumps back flustered thrusting her hand at his face and Mr. Cassano has to open his mouth lest he get smashed in the jaw. He watches amused as a grimace crosses the older man's face as he swallows the food as if it's poison.

Ms. Hong flies across to help the cute pianist that he's seen around a plaza a few times. He stares at her from under his bangs, looking away when she catches his eyes. Coughing loudly he walks away to do something important that doesn't involve losing his wits because of a pretty girl. Maybe he can talk to Mr. Cassano later just to ask about her, there's nothing wrong with being curious about your neighbors after all.

He doesn't know where else to go so he comes to Jipuragi, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees all the lights off. He pulls the key that Mr. Nam gave him from his pocket, still in disbelief that they trusted him enough to give him a key to the establishment. He had blinked away tears when the older man pushed the small metal object into his hands, it felt like a huge responsibility. Almost like he was being accepted into their makeshift family. It was far more than he deserved. 

Sitting down on his chair, he lets the agony wash over him. His cheek is throbbing, sore and swollen from the open handed slaps against the skin. Their stocks had dropped again from all the accusations and bad publicity, and his brother had once again taken it out on him berating him like a dog before kicking me out. It's nothing new, nothing he's never experienced before but it feels worst. Now that he's been around people who don't treat him like he's dirt, it hurts even more to go back to the old ways. He's so lost in thought he doesn't notice the door opening or the person creeping inside.

"What are you doing here?"

He jumps at the unexpected voice, twisting in his seat panicked. His heart rate settles once he sees the cool eyes of the man he's grown to respect. Vincenzo Cassano. He slumps in his seat, no excuses coming to mind and then it's too late and the other man is crossing the room and taking a seat across from him.

Those cold eyes narrow as they search his face, "What happened to your face?"

Images of his brother looming over him and slapping him on the ground flood his mind, along with his screams of pain as he pleads for him to stop. Then visions of a much smaller version of himself pleading similarly as his brother pulled his hair and laughed at his cries. He's crying before he ever realizes that the tear has condensed. 

Vincenzo tenses across the table, looking lost and uncomfortable.

It only makes him cry harder. It's so much better than getting hit.

Without a word the Mafia boss stands up pushing his chair away, stomping powerfully to the door. He watches alarmed before finding his voice and calling out, "Where are you going?"

The man looks at him darkly answering, "To kill your brother."

He gapes at the statement said so matter of fact and a bubble of laughter rises to the surface, making him chuckle through his tears. He rears back further at the other man's blatant confusion following his outburst, feeling freer than he's ever felt because this is the first time someone has tried to defend him.

It feels nice. Better than nice, unbelievable.

His heart thumps as he looks at the other man that he has every reason to be scared of but instead he feels safer than ever in his presence, it almost feels like what a brother should. A real brother not the one that he has who would kill him tomorrow without batting an eyelash.

"He's not done suffering yet. But thank you." Vincenzo shifts awkwardly at his show of gratitude never accepting of thanks something he has noticed while observing the enigmatic man, he vaguely wonders what this man has been through to make the complicated person he sees in front of him. Maybe one day he'll ask.

"Well if you're going to stay here, there's a bed up there."

Impulsively he replies, "Have you ever used it before? Is it really okay for me to use?"

He's met with a puzzled look, which he returns with a calculating one and then he spares a quick glance over to Ms. Hong's table and the gears click and Vincenzo is tomato faced and yelling, "Watch your mouth you brat! Do you want a beating?"

It shouldn't be funny with his face still throbbing from a beating just hours earlier, but he laughs so much his stomach hurts and that pain dulls the ache in his face.

"Oh my goodness what happened to your face?" He's barely able to get out an answer before Ms. Hong is jogging across the room, ever so gently catching his face in her small warm hands. Immediately he's reminded of his mother and he has to look away before he embarrasses himself.

He mumbles a lie about tripping but she's already sending a ferocious knowing look over to her partner and he watches their silent conversation with large eyes, until her voice breaks the pregnant pause.

"I can't wait until we kill that punk. How dare he put a hand on you? I'll go get some medicine, you-" she points to Vincenzo, "get him some ice before it starts to swell." The man automatically follows her instructions, looking like a dutiful husband.

And that's how Mr. Nam finds them, Vincenzo pressing ice wrapped in towels against his cheek as Ms. Hong squeezes creamy ointment onto her finger and smears it across his cheek. He blames his glossy eyes on the pain in his cheek and not the one in his chest.

It's his first time walking around the plaza and he tries to ignore the suspicious eyes that trail him, he knows that they know him as their enemy's brother and underling so he doesn't blame them for not trusting him, he would do the same. The clang of piano keys catches his attention and leads him to the source of the noise like a siren luring lost men, he watches transfixed through the glass as delicate fingers fly across the keys in a frenzy. It’s mesmerizing. 

He was forced to get piano lessons when he was younger, he was surprisingly good at it even better than Han Seok thus his brother became enraged and smashed his fingers putting a permanent end to his lessons.

The music lulls him into a sense of comfort so much so he doesn't realize when it ends and the small pianist notices that she has an audience.

When he finally looks up and catches her eye, he freaks out expecting her to look at him like all the others have today so he's unprepared for the door to slide open and for her to beckon him in with a crooked finger. He walks in almost as if in a trance, she's so pretty it's almost unnatural a supernatural glow surrounding her in her white flowing dress.

"How does it feel working at Jipuragi?" She asks suddenly catching him off guard, he sputters before taking a deep breath and looking away before replying, "I feel useful. It's....new."

That's all he can disclose and honestly it's more than he intended on saying but a knowing smile stretches across her pale face.

"Vincenzo, he's someone special who can make others feel special too." He smarts at the clear adoration in her voice, of course. She liked Vincenzo too. Every woman at this plaza probably did, the Italian was much more appealing than he would ever be- naturally charismatic and handsome, every woman's dream.

He smiles defeated stepping further into the space, running his fingers longingly across the piano keys. Something else that just wasn't meant for him.

"You like him too. It makes sense, he's really cool." He whispers, self deprecation swaddling him like a blanket. 

It's obvious who else he's referring to only Vincenzo and Ms. Hong seem to be in denial at this point everyone else assuming that they're already dating.

She doesn't deny his accusation. It's his own fault for having hope but that knowledge does nothing to tamper the hurt that rumbles in his chest. 

She hums before walking closer to him, fingers trailing across the black and white keys.

"I did. But they're good together."

He stills in shock, lightly pressing down on the key beneath his finger the sound vibrating through his skin. Then she presses another key that rings harmoniously with his and he can't not look over at her and he jolts breath stuck in his throat when he finds her already staring at him with a serene smile, "There are a lot of interesting people here though, someone else has caught my eye."

He plays the final note to fulfil the chord they started and their eyes never leave the other, music floating on the air between them.

Full. He’s never known what that felt like before but now he feels full of everything and he can't go back, can't ever go back to the way things once were.

There’s no looking back, only forward. 

#vincenzo #jang han seo #best boy pov #chayenzo #but as his doting parents #a new ship that I think would be absolutely adorkable #I want to put han seo in my pocket #little brother energy #hyungs #Vincenzo #vincenzo cassano

[cinnaminsvga]

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady. 

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool. 

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine. 

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning. 

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!” 

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him. 

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not. 

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets. 

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly. 

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched. 

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured. 

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples. 

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great. 

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet. 

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first. 

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak! 

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke. 

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly. 

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease. 

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time. 

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. 

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before. 

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

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