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#they match just right with fox
omaano · 5 months
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“How’d you get stuck with babysitting duty anyway?” Boba asked one day during dinner. “Oh, I volunteered for this,” Fox told him. “Why the kark would you do that?” “Language,” Fox admonished. “Well, I was just living my normal boring life and I thought to myself, ‘I don’t get called an ugly piece of banthashit often enough.’ So I decided to adopt you.” Boba snorted. “You’re a psychopath,” he told Fox. “I’ve been called worse,” Fox replied breezily. Boba doesn’t find a new family and Fox doesn’t become anybody’s dad; an adoption story.
@bilbosmom-belladonna commissioned me to illustrate a scene from her delightful fic Trying to Escape What You Can't Let Go. She was amazing to work with and you should absolutely check out her fun little found family story!
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just-a-queer-crow · 19 days
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The 9-1-1 fandom is one of the most annoying fandoms ive been in can we STOP obsessing over Buddie PLEASE, like i get it i see it too, i sorta ship it, ive read a lot of fanfic, BUT theres also Henren, Bathena, MADNEY (biased on them)!!!
Also Buck and Eddie have relationships w/ the rest of the crew that r so important and so overlooked. Buck and Hen r literally siblings!! Eddie and Hen is so underexplored imo!!! Buck and Chim r also siblings!!! Bobby is literally Buck’s dad! Eddie and the dispatch team!!!! BUCK AND MADDIE‼️‼️‼️
The fandom is so focused on the one mlm ship thats not even canon and im just,,, im so over it. Esp w/ Buck being confirmed bi and everyone being like ‘why is everyone jumping ship Tommy’s only gonna be here for a little bit 😡😡😡’ like??? Theyre cute??? Its canon??? Ppl can multi-ship. Calm down‼️ Get over urself‼️‼️‼️
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seventeendeer · 2 years
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before you adopt an "unusual" pet of any kind, I think it's really, really important to ask yourself why you absolutely need to have this specific species in your house. not just if you think you can take care of this pet, but why exactly you need this kind of pet, instead of a more common domestic animal which 1. will be better understood and researched due to many years of having lived in close quarters with people and 2. will be much, much easier to find proper vet care for.
I grew up with dogs. as a kid, I thought I wanted a pet dragon. seeing as this wish was somewhat difficult to grant for myself, as an adult, I sat down and evaluated what exactly it was kid-me thought would be so awesome about having a dragon for an animal companion.
"well," I told myself, "I really want a pet that's more emotionally guarded than a dog. something that won't love just anyone; I want to feel special by virtue of being 'chosen' by something that is normally aloof and hard to get close to. oh, and I want it to be cool-looking! it has to move all majestically and be sleek and elegant, and I want it to be fun to watch! I'm also drawn to the idea of misunderstood animals that people think are evil, but actually they're sensitive, beautiful, fascinating creatures, and we could learn so much from them if only we could overcome our own biases and see them for the raw, natural sincerity they embody!"
hopped on down to the shelter and picked up a cat
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deadsetobsessions · 17 days
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Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.
He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”
Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.
With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.
The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.
Blackmail.
His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”
By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.
He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.
You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.
“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.
“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”
Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.
Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.
“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”
“Ah, yes-”
“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”
Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.
“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”
“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.
Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.
As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.
“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.
“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”
You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.
Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.
“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”
“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”
He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”
Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.
“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”
He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.
“This is… very fair.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.
He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…
It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.
Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.
Make money laundering fronts.
“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”
“I considered it.”
“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”
Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.
Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.
Nice.
“You’re a criminal.”
“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”
Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!
“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.
“What about it?”
“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”
The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.
“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”
“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”
Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.
“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”
“He’s what.”
Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.
“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”
Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.
“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”
Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”
“…Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”
“I’ll see you out.”
“Of course.”
Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.
Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.
Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”
“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”
“I see.”
Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.
——
“Danny.”
“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”
Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.
“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”
Danny smiled. “No idea.”
“Uh huh.”
Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”
A bread roll thwacked him in the face.
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highvern · 25 days
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Between the Titles
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)
warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink
Length: ~9.5k
Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this
Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.
m.list + support my work
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.
As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 
Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 
It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 
You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.
Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.
Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.
Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.
But this morning you have notes to write.
Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.
The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.
A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.
Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 
I’m in Love with Mothman…
Well there it is.
You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.
Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.
When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 
His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 
A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.
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Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 
Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”
“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”
His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 
“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”
“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”
He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 
“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”
It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.
“What is it?”
Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.
If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.
“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”
“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”
“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”
Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.
As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.
I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.
Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 
You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.
The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.
“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.
With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”
“Get in line.”
Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.
Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation. 
“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”
“Bummer.”
“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”
“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”
“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”
Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.
“Yoongi,” you sing.
Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”
You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.
“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”
He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.
“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”
He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.
“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”
With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.
If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.
On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.
You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 
Of course he smokes.
The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 
“You know those things will kill you, right?” 
“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”
“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”
Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”
The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.
“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”
With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.
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The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.
Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.
Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 
“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”
But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.
Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.
“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.
“Are they the right copies this time?”
“Double checked them myself.”
You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.
Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.
Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”
The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”
Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 
Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.
You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.
Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.
Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.
Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.
“What's this?”
“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.
His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”
Of course he has.
Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.
Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.
You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 
It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.
You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 
He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 
The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.
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Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 
Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 
“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”
“Oh.”
Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”
“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”
You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.
A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 
Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.
The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.
You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.
Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.
A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.
“Looking for something?” 
Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.
“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.
Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”
“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”
Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 
“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 
Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.
“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.
Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.
“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.
“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”
“Oh.”
“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”
The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.
Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 
Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 
The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.
A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 
The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.
“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”
Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.
Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.
To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.
A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.
Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.
Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.
The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 
At least that’s what you tell yourself.
A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 
Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 
“Yoongi,” you say.
“Y/N.”
You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”
“What kiss?” you croak.
Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”
“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.
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Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 
“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.
Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”
Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 
“Yes.”
“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”
Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.
“Yes.”
“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 
“And he can hear you, so shut up.”
“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 
He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.
Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 
“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 
“Taehyung.” 
“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.
Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 
“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 
“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”
“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”
“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”
Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.
After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.
“I’m getting coffee.”
“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.
The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 
You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.
Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.
Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.
‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 
A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’
‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.
‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’
At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.
“Snooping for secrets?”
“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”
“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”
“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”
Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”
“Nope.”
You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 
This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.
His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 
“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 
He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 
A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 
Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.
Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 
His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.
“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”
Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 
“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.
Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.
“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.
Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.
Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 
“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.
You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 
“They were out.” 
With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.
“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 
You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.
“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.
Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”
“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 
“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.
“Why not?”
“Because…”
Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.
“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”
You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.
When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”
“Why?”
“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”
“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.
Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”
“If you’re leaving, so am I.”
“Why?” your roommate whines. 
“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”
“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 
You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”
“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.
You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.
“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.
It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.
“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 
“Go ahead.”
The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.
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The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.
Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.
Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.
Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.
You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.
Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 
He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.
You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.
Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.
An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 
But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 
Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.
Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.
There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 
A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.
You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.
“Yoongi?” 
A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.
“Jesus, you scared me.” 
“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”
“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”
“This is my job.”
“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”
“Who says it’s stopping me now?”
He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”
You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 
A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.
“Could have fooled me.”
“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.
“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”
“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”
The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.
“How long? How long have you wanted this?”
Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”
You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.
The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.
“That was months ago.”
“I’m a patient guy.”
You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.
Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”
“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.
“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”
“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”
Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 
He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 
You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 
He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.
His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”
“You thought about this?”
“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”
A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”
“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”
Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”
Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 
The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.
“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”
Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 
He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 
Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.
“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”
The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.
He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.
But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”
Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.
Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.
Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.
“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”
You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 
It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.
“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 
“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”
“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”
He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.
You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 
Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.
Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 
There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 
You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 
Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.
He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 
With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”
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“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.
A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”
Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.
Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.
You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 
After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 
He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.
You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 
You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 
“One of my books is missing,” you say.
“Oh, right.”
Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.
Maybe He Just Likes You
And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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dvrcos · 4 months
Text
Aaron may not have an eidetic memory like Andrew does but he has a damn good one and he can remember anything he puts even the smallest amount of effort into remembering.
After everything that happened in Baltimore Aaron starts to note every small possibly important (and unimportant) medical fact about the foxes. And he’s not even totally conscious he’s doing it.
He consciously remembers Andrew and Nicky’s blood types. He knows Nicky’s allergic to penicillin and he knows Andrew doesn’t react well to doctors so it’s best for everyone if he can be administered some kind of sedative right away.
And then he thinks he should probably know this stuff for Kevin, and begrudgingly Neil, because they’re part of his strange little family that Andrew’s created. So he quickly and easily finds this information on them (because he’s a Minyard and he just knows how to find the things he needs to know). So he knows their blood types and he knows Kevin still feels residual pain in his left hand but doesn’t show it and try’s to ignore it. He knows Neil heals annoyingly quick from his all too common injuries but he also knows he aggravates those injuries easily by pushing himself too soon.
But it doesn’t stop there, there’s a small itch in the back of his head driving him to find out the important medical facts about the rest of the foxes. So he allows himself to remember their blood types and allergens and tells himself he needs to know incase of an emergency.
But he also notices that Matt has a high tolerance to pain medication whenever he’s being treated by Abby for an injury during practice or a game. And he notes the one type that works for him and keeps multiple bottles on him and in their room. (It’s also the only type that works for Kevin and works best for Neil so he stocks their room with it too)
And he notices that Allison is a slight germaphobe and applies hand sanitizer anytime she has to touch a public door handle or they go out to eat. So he opens as many doors for her as he can despite the confused look he gives her every time and he just glares right back at her. He keeps an extra mini bottle of hand sanitizer in his backpack for her as well and silently passes it to her when she’s forgotten hers.
He notices Dans chronic knee and lower back pain that Abby is constantly treating and how there’s always a rotating rainbow of colorful KT Tape on her. So he keeps an eye on Abby’s stock of tape and when a color is running low he casually mentions it to her to order more and then walks away.
He notices how Renee always picks at the scabs on her knuckles that result from her sparring with Andrew. He figures the wraps she has are getting old and silently leaves a new pair on the counter the next time he’s in the girls dorm, along with a box of bandaids and a tube of antiseptic ointment. He leaves a matching set of supplies in Andrew’s dorm as well just to be safe.
He doesn’t consciously realize that what he’s doing is protecting and taking care of the Foxes. But the others catch on and smile fondly at him because he’s letting himself care for them and become part of their family.
And the one time Dan mentions what he’s doing for them he looks at her like she’s crazy. He tells himself, and her, that that’s not what he’s doing, he’s just a future doctor and someone needs to take care of these injury prone idiot athletes and no one else besides him and Abby are going to do it right.
Aaron would definitely be so observant and acutely aware of the Foxes physical well beings despite him insisting he doesn’t care and hates them all. But he basically becomes Abby’s right hand man and teams second nurse because it’s good practice for his future and he knows them.
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month
Text
Outburst II
Leah Williamson x Jordan Nobbs x Child!Reader
Summary: You say a bad word
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"Whoa, whoa," Leah says helplessly as your screaming body is placed into her arms," What-? Jordan, what's going on?"
Jordan sighs as she gently wipes the tears from your red face. "She's a little sad today-"
"Mummy!" You whine, reaching for her. You try to flop back out of Leah's arms to get to her and it's only because of Leah's quick readjustment that you don't go falling to the floor. "Mummy, no!"
"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan says and, to her credit, she does look incredibly apologetic," But you know it's Mum's turn to have you this week."
You just sob harder.
"No," You cry," Mummy, no! Please!"
"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan repeats, crowding close enough to give you a tight hug in the hope of calming you down," But you know that it's Mum's week now. You were so excited to get your minutes in a few days ago."
You just keep crying though, trying to claw your way out of Leah's arms and cling to Jordan.
"Go, Jordan," Leah says with a sigh," I'll take her inside. I'll calm her down."
Jordan looks torn but nods. "She didn't want to leave Blu. I took him to the vets last night for a checkup. He stayed over there so she hasn't seen him since. She's been a little bit sad."
"A little bit?" Leah scoffs as you wail right in her ear before hitting her shoulder. "Hey, no, bug. What have I said about hitting? It's rude."
You hit her again.
"Bug," She says in warning.
"Hey," Jordan says softly," As soon as I get back, I'll pick up Blu and send your Mum a picture but you've got to stop crying, okay?"
You sniffle. "Promise?"
"I promise."
You nod and angrily wipe away your tears. Your bottom lip still trembles but you relax in Leah's arms, head on her shoulder as your hand reaches out to play with the necklace she's wearing.
Leah hopes that you'll be happier now that Jordan's promised pictures of Blu but you're still a little sad and depressed during bath time and bedtime.
You didn't even enjoy your bedtime story like you usually do and it carries on the next day when you don't cross the day off on the calendar.
You're usually so excited to cross a day off because it means you're closer to match day and match day means you get your minutes in at the very end.
Leah doesn't know what else to do. She's shown you the picture of Blu Jordan sent. She put you in your comfy clothes and your favourite Arsenal jersey but you still remain sad.
Very briefly, Leah considers going to the shelter and getting you a puppy but realises that she's got training and there's not enough hours in the day to do both so she picks you up and gets you into the car.
Leah's pretty sure it unnerves everyone how quiet you are. Even the newer signings like Fox and Codi seem to notice something's wrong.
Katie's the one who makes the first move.
You're sitting in Leah's cubby, just swinging your legs aimlessly when Katie pokes you in the cheek.
The disgruntled look on your face is funny so she pokes you again.
"Come on," She cajoles," What's wrong? I don't get a hug this morning?"
"No."
"Why not? I might die without my hugs, you know."
You give her a blank stare. "Then die."
"Bug!" Leah snaps sharply and you duck your head sheepishly.
"Sorry, Mum. Sorry, Katie."
Leah turns back to what she's doing and Katie pokes you again.
"Stop it!" You snap but Katie does it again," Fuck off, Katie!"
Someone gasps, probably Alessia, but all you're focussed on is your Mum. Leah whips around to face you. She looks angry, looking down at you with pursed lips.
"That's a bad word, bug!" She tells you," It's a naughty word! Who taught it to you?"
You shrug.
"Bug, you've already been naughty today. Don't lie to me. Who taught it to you?"
You feel the urge to cry again, your throat going all tight and closed up and you know pretending you don't know what Mum is talking about will get you in a lot of trouble.
You mumble your response.
"Speak louder, bug," Leah says," So I can hear you."
"Rachel said it to Mummy a few days ago when they were wrestling," You reply," Didn't know it was a bad word! It got Mummy to stop!"
Leah sighs, running a hand over her mouth as she looks at you. The rest of the locker room has gone silent, just watching how she's going to tackle this situation.
"Some words," Leah says," Are naughty words. That's one of them. I don't want to hear you say it again, bug."
You frown. "Rachel said it."
"Rachel's an adult."
"And adults say bad words?"
"Only when they're being naughty." Leah really doesn't want to be having a conversation like this but she has to admit that thinking it through has perked you up a little bit.
"Adults get in trouble for saying bad words too?" You check and Leah nods. You point right at Beth. "She said fuck last week."
"Bug, stop repeating it!"
"And so did Emily and Lessi. Lessi taught it to Vic, who taught it to Codi. Everyone says it, Mum!"
"Well-" Leah looks around.
"And they didn't get in trouble!"
"They're getting in trouble now!" Leah declares," We'll make a swear jar. If you swear, you put money in the jar. Is that good enough for you, bug?"
You think for a moment, looking around the room where Kyra is giggling. "Kyra called the plug a motherfucker when she stepped on it last week."
"That was meant to be a secret!" Kyra exclaims.
"Alright." Leah massages her temples. "From now on, this is a no swear zone. If you swear then you put money in the jar."
"Hey, come on!" Katie complains," Sort your kid's potty mouth out at home! Don't make all of us suffer through this shite."
"That's a quid in the swear jar, McCabe," Leah says, turning and picking you up," And no Bug Hugs for a week."
"No, Bug Hugs?!" Katie shrieks," I'll die without them."
Leah winks at you. "Then die."
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ashipiko · 1 month
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—NIKO CIMARRON
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All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆
—MORE UNDER CUT
BASIC INFORMATION:
Class: 2-A
Birthday: October 24
Height: 176cm
Dominant Hand: Right
From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands
Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)
Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis
Best Subject: Animal Languages
Likes: Making a profit
Dislikes: Getting outsmarted
Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things
Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot
Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth
GALLERY:
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VOICE CLAIM:
YUU’S INTERVIEW:
— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —
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for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.
There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.
> You know what I’m here for, Niko.
> Why are you surprised?
No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…
It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡
> I think it matches your vibe.
> You’re one to talk.
Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.
…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.
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> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.
> (…They’re cuter than expected.)
Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.
It’s about time to start though, huh?
> Yeah.
> No more wasting time.
INTERVIEW: START!
1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?
A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.
> No thanks.
> Why not?
They’re tasty, I prommie~.
2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?
Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.
3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?
Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.
If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?
Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.
4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?
Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.
If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.
5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?
Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!
> Not the focus of the question.
> That’s not…!
It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡
> Again, no thanks.
> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.
Keep me in mind~.
6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?
…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.
> You are annoying, but…
> (Would it be mean to say something?)
I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.
Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.
…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡
> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.
> Really, it’s fine, Niko…
Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡
Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?
> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.
> (That was a quick turnaround.)
…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.
INTERVIEW: END!
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> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)
> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)
.
.
.
TRIVIA:
Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if this were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.
He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.
He can be considered a fan of Vil.
Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.
Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone making moves on him.
Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.
He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.
Niko feels very guilting for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.
Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.
Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have.
Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.
More to be added!
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q1ngqve · 3 months
Note
what will fox! aventurine do if he sees his beautiful bunny! reader in a provocative nightgown, laying in bed submissively?
one word: crazy (also the position is not submissive but i think it would still make his head go fuzzy)
CW; bunny! hybrid fem! reader, fox! hybrid aventurine, penetration, lowkey breeding kink
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he’d actually go crazy, his brain short circuiting when he steps into the room after a long day and sees you lying on your shared in a light pink silk nightgown, your arms propping you up as you read a book
his heart skips a beat when he realizes it’s the one he picked out for you, the one that matches his eye color! he could feel his ears twitching as he steps closer to you, running his gloved hands lightly up and along the back of your thigh, making you jump in surprise
aventurine’s hand would wrap around your nape as he leans down to kiss you, urgency in his kiss, wanting to ravage you right this instant. you had no right looking this fucking beautiful on your shared bed!
he can’t help but tug at your fluffy tail, his own tail swishing behind him so quickly, you could feel the wind coming from it. you’d giggle against his lips as he flips you around, making you sit on his lap, facing him
his hands would slide under the nightgown, running them along the curves of your body as he admired the view before him. your ears already droppy and falling along your back with your hair, and your hips, he can’t help but squeeze at them, pulling you closer so that you settle directly atop his pulsing dick
“fuck you’re so beautiful, I just want to eat you up.”
you’d squirm in both fear and anticipation when he bares his fangs, head leaning down to bite on your shoulder before licking and kissing at the spot, you’re just so delectable, he can’t stop himself from wanting to hurt you
usually the type to be patient and make you cum at least twice before pushing himself in, but the low hanging cut of your nightgown that allows him to peek at your breasts each time he looks down has his patience running out
thrusts harshly into you in this position, his cock angled perfectly to kiss your cervix each time he pushes in. you’re a panting and wailing mess by the time he cums inside you, your own orgasm coming seconds after, making him hard again as you clamp down hard around him
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naomiarai · 3 months
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lucky charm? — cyj.
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summary : give your boyfriend another reason to win won't you?
genre : smut, fluff
wc : 2.2k
pairing : basketball player!yeonjun × afab! reader, established relationship
warnings : dom!jjun, sub!reader, kind of wall fucking?, creampie, ass slapping, praise, oral (m.rec), pet names (angel, pretty, princess), kind of exhibitionism
disclaimer : idk how i feel abt it
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the fogg in the air moves to disappear as the you make the outline of your star player, his coloured hair so easily spottable. your eyes meet his fox ones as you wave with a big smile, clearly excited to see him.
yeonjun jogs up to you, removing his jacket in the process and draping it over your shoulders.
“i told you i’d pick you up, princess, it's freezing outside” he says with a slight frown.
you simply giggle at his gesture, taking a good look at his face. he seems to have caught you staring as he brings his face close to yours, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“did practice go well?” you ask as you wrap your hands around his torso, pulling him closer.
“it was going well, until it started raining” he says with a chuckle, looking at you with endearing eyes.
the boys have been practicing endlessly; the semi-finals for the match was on the upcoming weekend, a perfect day for you since you had all the time in the world to watch them play. either way, if yeonjun feels like he accomplished something after a match, you feel like you accomplished something too.
you're his lucky charm as he says, whether it's a peck on the cheek or a really tight hug before a match, you're his complete motivation. “do you think i could steal you for a bit?” you ask hopefully.
he looks at you with a suspicious grin, tilting his head to the side, “i suppose..” he says and you visibly lighten up, but he starts again, “if i get a kiss?” he asks squinting his eyes.
you mirror the same expression, staring for a good minute before crashing your lips into his abruptly. he pulls you closer, leaning down to kiss you deeper before you pull away, “satiated enough? i wanna show you something” you say as you lace your fingers with his, dragging him out of the court.
“where are we going?” he asks abruptly as you run along with him, “my apartment, i wanna show you something plus we can stay there for tonight?” you say and look back for a moment to see if he'd agree, yeonjun simply smiles with a nod. reaching the entrance of your building, both of you slow down, going in to take the elevator.
it's empty, leaving you both to practically do whatever you wanted. you live pretty high up, it was always annoying to take the elevator that high with a bunch of people in it. but this time you have your dear boyfriend snd his antics of course.
you simply stare the mirror like ceiling, purposely not paying any attention to the very obviously staring at you yeonjun, smiling to yourself. he seems to notice it, his hands go to your jaw, about to turn it to kiss you, just when the doors open. you walk off with a proud scoff, trying to hold yourself from laughing.
you hear him laugh from irritatedly behind you, catching up to you before he stops you with a hand on your waist. “did you really try to run away?” he says with faux anger, before placing the much awaited kiss on your lips.
you chuckle as you push in the keys to your apartment, a creaking noise emitting as you push it open. it's been a while since yeonjun's been in your place since you're usually at his. he stares at certain things a little longer, taking in what he hasn't in a long time. “give me a minute jjun, i'll be right back” you say as you disappear inside your room.
∆∆∆—
you reappear as you carry a box in your hands, wrapped in red foil wrap as you walk your way to his figure on the couch, taking a seat beside him. he looks at you with wide eyes and a surprised expression on his face clearly not expecting it. before he could say anything, you speak up, “look, i know it's not really a gift for you, but it is something you've been wanting for me” you say with a pause in-between.
he eyes go up to the side for a moment, thinking all the possibilities on what it could be before he gives up. “you really didn't have to get anything in the first place, but seriously ____, thank you” he says genuinely
you watch with anticipation as he unravels the ribbon on top, nails clawing into the edge of the lid to pry it open. his eyes land on the bright jersey, embedded with his name and the number 13. you almost immediately see his lips curl up into his signature grin, throwing his head back with pure laughter.
“holy shit!, that looks amazing” he squeals with joy holding stretched out in the air, as you stare at him delightfully, this was probably the most memorable thing you thought of. “gon' go try it on for me?” he asks you, still staring at it.
“let me surprise you”, you say, “i’ll wear it on the day of the competition?”. his eyes finally look back at yours, smiling at the suggestion, it’d be a lovely surprise.
you watch him carefully fold it and put it back inside, fixing on the lid before placing it next to him.
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it’s d-day, the sun seems to cover the whole court in its golden rays, you still haven't seen yeonjun yet, he’s probably getting ready  in the locker room.
you smoothen out the jersey, it fit you perfectly, and you just know he would too. the boys had about an hour before their match, they've been practicing steadily the last few days, you're sure they'll do well.
you decide not to waste any of the time you had left to see him, quickly sprinting to the locker room.
you enter slowly, eyes landing on yeonjun; the only one in the room. you don't question where the others ran off to, simply tip toeing your way towards him, in order to wrap your hands around him.
the closer you got to him, you realized he was checking his phone, his thumb about to hit the call button on your number. seeing this, you immediately wrap your arms around his waist, very obviously startling him.
“oh what the— oh my god!” he says as he takes a look at the your figure behind him, letting out a blissful giggle at your attire. your eyes sink into crescent moons, a silent smile plastered on your face, opening your mouth to ask, “do you like it? does it look good?” you say as you look down at yourself again. “you look good, so fucking good” he replies back almost instantly; you could tell the way his voice got a little hazy at the end. you were definitely doing something to him.
you wrap your arms around his neck, inching closer. yeonjun looks at you intently, his lips are curled into the prettiest grin you've seen and it makes you giggle at him. you go up to kiss him, lips melting into each other as he tightens his grip on your lower back. he propels his tongue inside your mouth, fostering a whine from you.
you pull back to catch your breath, but from his expression he clearly doesn't want that. “jjun- you have less than an hour left, keep it in your pants” you say half earnestly. he tilts his head to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, “what? you think i can’t make you cum in less than an hour? i can double that” he says confidently.
you don't doubt his words, you gravely don't. you're simply making excuses that even you don't want, to keep you guys away from latently getting caught fucking before his game. but yeonjun has always had his way, if he wants it, he'll get.
“yeonjun.. what if someone walks in or..comes looking for you?” you say pleadingly, you're playing good girl right now, but you're so fucking wet. he gives you a kiss on your neck, “i’ll lock the door, who would come looking for me right now? no one has a reason to, and i can tell you're wet, baby” he says his voice deeper.
oh god, you really shouldn't, but it'll be quick right? its not like anyone would walk in without knocking anyways—, fuck it.
you don't say another word, turning your back on him to lock the door shut before coming back to slam your lips against his, you feel him smile into it. yeonjun loves it when you're just as eager as he is during sex, he finds it hot. his hands down to your thighs to hoist you up onto the bench, followed by spreading your legs to stand in-between them.
“you look so fucking good in this” he mumbles at your lips as your hands go down to pull his shorts down, rubbing his dick with the palm of your hand. he hisses at it, whispering a “fuck” to himself. “wan’ suck your cock, please-” you say breathily, a tone of pure begging in your words. and that works for yeonjun, he looks at you proudly, fucking yes, he'll give you his cock.
he drags out a chair as you quickly pull his shorts and boxers down to his knees, veiny cock in the open. if you weren't wet before, you were soaked now. getting on your knees, you grab at the base of his cock, giving kitten licks at his red tip. “don't fucking tease and get to it” he commands as you proceed to take half of it inside your mouth, sucking endlessly. one of the reasons you love sucking yeonjun off are the pornographic moans and whimpers he lets out, it just makes you want to do it more.
you circle your tongue around his base, your fingertips slightly squeezing it. “god, good girl— good fucking girl” he groans out, you feel him twitch inside your mouth and before you know it, his white seed fills up your mouth. he doesn't say anything but you're clearly expected to do something. you swallow every last drop, you've gone this too many times to not follow up with it.
yeonjun grabs your chin, kissing you passionately as he gets you to stand up and pushing your front towards the wall. he lifts up your jersey, staring with awe at how wet you were, “you're so wet angel, all for me? got you so worked up huh?” he says, giving your ass a slap.
“please— please fuck me, 'm so wet for you, need your cock” you babble, too horny for your own good as it is. he pulls your drenched lace panties to the side, cunt glistening in slick as he runs his calloused fingers over it, earning a whiny moan from you. you let out a sigh as he rubs his tip against your folds, smothering it in stickyness as he pushes it inside abruptly. your breath hitches, voice caught in your throat as you process the movement of his cock inside of you.
“ah..ah! faster! hnng-” you groan as your finger nails claw at the wall infront of you, thighs shaking as he picks up his speed. the room fills up with the lewd and wet noises of skin slapping against skin, your mind completely hazy. “you feels so good, so tight, shit-” he whines, slamming his hips harder against yours.
you feel the knot inside your stomach tighten, getting so, so close to bursting, just when you hear beomgyu's voice outside knocking on the door, hyung? are you inside? . your body halts for a moment, panic settling into your senses as you crane your neck to look at yeonjun with wide eyes. he looks completely calm, slowing down to answer beomgyu, “i’ll be out in a bit, go ahead” he says.
it seems to have him leave as yeonjun picks up his pace again, “look at you, clenching so hard, fuck did that turn you on?, you wished he walked in on us didn't you? dirty girl” he says with a smirk. you don't reply, the coil inside your stomach building up again, this time, seconds away from snapping. “wanna cum!– please, hah gonna cum-” you say, tears pricing at your eyes.
“yeah? fuck– gonna cum for me? do it, i'll fill you up” he says bending over to whisper inside your ear, kissing your earlobe. and that does it for you,; your vision goes into a blanket of white as you feel yeonjun pant behind you, his cum filling you up. after a couple minutes, he pulls out, grabbing a wet towel to clean you up, “i think i'll have to go now baby, you'll get back safely won't you?” he asks you solemnly.
“mhm, i'll be fine jjun, go ahead” you assure him as he heads out for the match.
<3
of course the boys won; they played incredibly, you watch with a genuine smile as they come together for a hug. you meet him after, running up to him to give him a tight hug, congratualting him immensely. “you did so well! good job” you say as he simply smiles at you,
“so what about a celebratory fuck?” he says grinning.
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dbs-scans · 5 months
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Christmas Event 2023 — Santa Claus of Love
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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! ❄️☃️
As a special gift to all of our lovely tumblr fans, we have compiled the event hosted this Christmas on AidaIro’s Twitter account for your viewing pleasure. We hope you like it!
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Good evening! This is Yashiro Nene, Santa Claus of Love! Christmas is drawing near, and my mission is to give sound advice to all of the lost little lambs who are still having trouble choosing a present for their loved ones!✨ All right, I’ll do my best!
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I’ve already found my first troubled little lamb!
Hmm... So she wants to give her childhood friend a present, but she's overthinking it and can't make up her mind! Leave it to me! The Santa Claus of Love will help you decide on the perfect present! You should get him...
POLL:
A home-made treat baked with love 💖 ✅
Be bold and present yourself as the gift! 💕
An arrow
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Happy Christmas! Let's celebrate the genesis of a happy new couple, everyone!
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Now I’ve found an energetic little lamb!
Hoho! So he's having trouble finding a gift for someone whose relationship with him can't be described succinctly. Leave it to the Santa Claus of Love to choose the perfect present for you! You should get...
POLL:
Chicken for the growing boy 🍗
A matching amulet 💕 ✅
An arrow
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Happy Christmas! Let's celebrate the joyous genesis of a new matching duo, everyone!
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My next little lamb is a large one!
Oh? His coworker, a fox, is threatening that she'll bite him if she doesn't get a present? Just leave it to the Santa Claus of Love to choose the perfect present for you! You should give...
POLL:
A special treat to enjoy with booze 😋 ✅
Nothing says Christmas like an ugly sweater! 🎄 
An arrow
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Happy Christmas! Pretty sweet sweater he’s got on, huh? Let's celebrate a joyous banquet between two drinking buddies, everyone!
And that leaves me with three arrows left over.
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Okay! I'm going shooting!
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Gotta aim niiiice and steady...
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That should do it! Whoever is struck by these arrows of romance will fall in love with the first person they see. The effect lasts only 24 hours, so just to be safe I struck him with all three. Christmas tomorrow is gonna be lovey-dovey, guaranteed! Oh! And I also brought a very special present.
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Take these...
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The newest volume of Toilet-bound Hanako-kun, Volume 21, as well as Volume 2 of After-school Hanako-kun will release on February 27th! Happy Christmas! We hope you all continue to support TBHK in the coming year!
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ravstars · 1 month
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Let's get outta here.ᐟ
⌇Wanderer/ Scaramouche x Reader.ᐟ
જ⁀➴Spicy fluff: Wanderer and you go out on a coffee date and he can't stop teasing you... Modern AU, Wanderer/ Scaramouche refered to as Kuni~
a/n: This is a little more spicy.... I'm gathering courage writing more spicy online so please enjoy!! Thank you for all the love <33
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"Kuni... not here...!" You whisper-yell to your boyfriend, your hand stopping his from moving further up your thigh. He just snickers, coming closer to your ear.
"Why not? 's not like anyone can see. Unless, well, you want people to see." He teases you, his brow quirking up and matching the smirk on his alluring lips. His features are divine, you note, the mole under his right eye making his already fox-like visage appear even more magnificent.
His hand wiggles out under yours, now brushing up and down your thigh slowly, enticingly. His breath fans over your neck, and you don't want to guess how red you are right now.
You're starting to regret going on this coffee date with him now, already feeling some eyes on your trembling shape. You can feel Wanderer's complacent aura radiating off of him and bouncing off of your skin, it was too much.
You lower your head and take a deep breath and he only uses this new opportunity to lean in even closer and bite your ear lobe softly, just enough for you to feel his teeth. Galvanising pleasure blooms through you, making you bite your bottom lip to stifle the compromising sound that was about to leave you.
"Ha! I got you." He pokes his nose into your cheek, grinning like a cheshire cat, as you were practically drowning in embarrassment at the very same time.
You lift your head and turn it to him, with him still so close making the whole situation way more intimate than before.
"Not here. Please." You try and not sound too worked up, your eyes narrowing down on his feverishly. It seems this new found closeness has taken at least the tiniest toll on him, as his breath hitches and his eyes look down onto your lips. Contrary to your words you can't help but press your lips together, pressing your soft lips onto his perfect ones. He smiles into the kiss, a small, small smile only you'd be able to recognise after years of decoding and solving him and his thoughts.
You pull away and when you realise that you're pressing your thighs together, mentally slapping yourself for taking it way too far. You cough in an attempt to break the tension before hesitantly looking back at him.
"Don't look at me like that," wiping your lips you mumble, "Let's just pay and get out of here."
He gets the clue. You're sure by the way he immediately gets up to pay the bill.
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ohisms · 7 months
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↪   ᵀᴴᴱ 𝑀𝐼𝐶𝐾 .    (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  season  1  of fox's sitcom ,  “ the mick ” .   adjust  phrasing  as  necessary . will be updated !  )
oh my god , why do you have gasoline ?!
we're fine , not that it's any of your concern .
stay out of trouble .
no , you're not coming in with me .
you're embarrassing . you embarrass me . i'm embarrassed of you .
can i bum a smoke , please ?
it's okay , i already have a dollar .
i get the sense that you're in need a lot .
i don't have a problem . you do , otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation .
what do you mean ? you invited me .
i got into yale , that doesn't mean i'm going .
the scales of justice tip in favor of the wealthy .
if we throw enough money at this thing , i'm sure it'll go away .
let's catch up in ten years when you need another loan .
i feel like we got off on the wrong foot .
i want you to come to me with boy problems . or girl problems , i don't assume .
i know you think you're pretty clever with this plan to drink me under the table , but there's two problems ... you're not , .. & you can't .
she's not dead , i can see her breathing .
i cannot count the number of times i've been ripped off a barstool & thrown in a cage .
i should probably get out of the house , yesterday kinda got away from me .
i don't like these people . but i like you .
why are we at a poor person's restaurant ?
don't touch my stuff , psycho .
no , i don't believe you . you're lying .
uh , i don't know , maybe because you're a lying bitch .
okay , look , i understand this stuff is really hard to hear .
let's just keep our voices down , okay ?
you think i care about these idiots ?
what is wrong with you ? you're making a scene .
how's that for a scene ?! dinner & a show !
i know what you're up to , & you're not gonna get away with it .
i'm sorry , you think you're in charge ?
once all this is gone , all that's left is this . & nobody wants just this .
wait , wait , wait ! i'm coming with you !
i will only go if i have your blessing .
if you need anything at all , do not hesitate to call 911 .
[ name ] , my beautiful angel !
i heard about that little accident you had .
so , this is it ! home sweet home .
holy crap , you're alive ...
what are you doing here ? are you living at my place ?
okay , i'm sensing some major hostility here .
i thought you were dead !
don't pay attention to him , he's no one .
— i'm just kidding ! oh , i'm so sorry , your face ...
no ... you're joking — this is a joke , right ?
i'm gonna go freshen up , this'll be fun !
my legs are heavy , but my mind is light ...
wait , why is my window open ?
do i look like i'm playing games ?
we both burnt that bridge , it doesn't matter who lit the match .
i need you to do me a favor , i did you a favor .
oh , thank god you're here . you've gotta help us .
oh , i'm not going anywhere .
what do you want me to do about it ?
knock - knock ... can i come in ?
oh ... i get it . you're jealous .
enough with the guessing games , i'm freaking out over here .
fine . i'll fix this myself .
i thought we agreed i'm the boss ?!
if you saw my silence as agreeing with you , that's on you .
don't take it personally , his heart just isn't for sale .
not now , [ name ] , i'm gloating .
[ name ] ?! since when do you smoke ?
HEY .. !! [ name ] . just the person i wanted to see .
i haven't gone this long without a smoke in years .
either be part of the solution or get the hell out .
well , now i feel like you're lying .
regardless of how we got here , i'm having a really good time .
is it ? is it creepy to be ahead of everybody at all times ?
i want to squeeze you around your neck until you can't breathe .
i said that forever ago when i was young and dumb .
if i were you , i would take this opportunity to lay low .
that's the opposite of what i just suggested .
[ name ] , you've been overruled .
i don't mean to offend you , you don't fit the [ surname ] brand .
it's already happening , we're becoming socially radioactive .
i'm sorry , that night is a blur of bad pinot and intolerable conversation .
oh , so you're a liar too ?
i was sitting at home , and then i remembered you're not my boss .
what's the matter ? little plan didn't work ?
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hotvintagepoll · 4 months
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Propaganda
Ronald Colman (Arrowsmith, Random Harvest, Prisoner of Zenda)—"God! Ronnie Colman! Wasn't he marvelous? He had the greatest movie technique I've ever known in my life!" -Vincent Price
James Dean (Rebel Without A Cause, East of Eden)—can i just say that while james dean was horrendously hot, he also had a i-want-to-pick-him-up-and-carry-him-around-in-my-pocket-slash-hoodie-and-feed-him-treats kind of vibe to him? maybe it was because he was only 5'7, or maybe it was because (to me, at least) he constantly looked like a sopping wet poor little meow meow, or maybe it's because his eyebrows looked like they were too big for him. whatever it was, i'm beginning to understand why people still have posters of him in their rooms.
This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]
James Dean propaganda:
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Ronald Colman propaganda:
No one, not even Douglas Fairbanks, could match Ronald Colman's screen close-ups. They were marvellous because he had a beautiful face, and because he had a deep but gentle masculinity: the ideal of the dark Englishman. — Laurence Olivier
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Ronnie became not just an actor for me, but a way of life. — Vincent Price
"I wanna give some propaganda for Ronald Colman! His face acting made him a star in the silent era but when the arrival of the talkie brought one megastar after another down to earth he was one of the only ones to become more popular due to his voice, and became the blueprint for the ��mellifluous voiced Englishman” type that Laurence Olivier and James Mason would later become known for. And to prove it here he is reading Shakespeare"
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"1920s heartthrob to 1930s matinée idol to 1940s silver fox Oscar winner to 1950s comedy radio star, this man could do it ALL. I feel he is unfairly neglected today despite his smile making it into P.G. Wodehouse novels and the knee-melting qualities of his voice making it into a Rodgers & Hammerstein musical. A women's college made him the winner in their hottest celebrity poll in 1942, and I am right there with them. He was by all accounts an absolutely lovely person, as well, but I recognize that this poll is about the hotness and I think that Ronald Colman deserves more recognition for being ridiculously handsome and doing heartbreaking face-acting and having weaponizable quantities of charm. Also he saved David Niven's life (according to the latter's memoir) by shooting a shark once. Very sexy of him."
He was a wonderful friend; steady, true, full of wisdom and humour. He was generous and completely unbitchy unlike so many actors. A great actor, the master of the understated playing, and one many people (including me) tried hard to copy. A glorious speaking voice, dirty great brown 'fan' eyes, a smile that lit up the whole of Beverly Hills, and a man who could give a lame dog or a struggling actor a lift with never a thought of self-congratulation. — David Niven
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dvrcos · 2 months
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Thinking about the Foxes dying their hair orange for finals. Like it starts with the girls doing orange highlights/Renee dying the tips of her hair orange during death matches
And then Matt and Nicky rope themselves in because they think it’s cool as fuck and they want to be apart of it. So Allison and Renee help them bleach their hair and Dan watches for moral support. They dye the tips of Matt’s hair and give Nicky chunky highlights
They try to convince Neil next and it doesn’t work until Matt asks and then he hesitantly agrees. They give him just a little streak of orange right at the front and it just looks like his normal hair but a bit brighter
Kevin is the next to join in because he’s superstitious as fuck and would think if half the team is already doing it than the whole team has to for good luck. Allison and Renee give him a nice ombré of orange over the tips of his hair
The twins are the hardest to convince by far. Kevin and the entire team hound them for a week. Aaron agrees finally just so Kevin stops bitching at him every spare breath and somehow Neil gets Andrew on board because he’s Neil and “just asked”
Aaron dyes the undercut of his hair orange and Andrew gets little fox paw prints on the shaved part of his head (so he can shave them off as soon as the seasons over). The orange is bright as fuck on their hair too since their natural hair is so light. And they both think it’s obnoxious but are team players
It definitely becomes a tradition after that and if they make it to finals Wymack and Abby surprise them by dying their hair (and Wymack temporarily dyes his beard)
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Suvi, a child of the Citadel and a soldier, made the right call. Her feelings were legitimate. Her worldview and upbringing dictates the split second calls she makes. Love and friendship in conflict with loyalty and duty, and she defaults to her training.
Ame, a witch and a wild one (not in the Honored Friend sense but just a wild person), made the right call. Her life was in danger, and these people part of the cage closing around her. An animal backed into the corner. Far too much of her still matching the fox to be tame and graceful in a world of artifice
Eursulon, a protector and an Honored Friend, made the right call. One friend in danger, hunted, with so few she can trust. The other in ostensibly the safest place in the world for her. But a place he could not stay, a trap for himself too. To go. And to protect.
All three made arguably bad choices. All three made arguably the right choice. And all three definitely made choices 100% in character.
I love the complications in this story and the characters and Brennan playing them into their own little traps
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