#Snails pace it's actually frustrating

[fearotica]

Haven't even started coloring Jas, so have Lawrence instead.

[tadeadshihamurder]

I logged into memrise for the first time since ~2016–2017 recently and found that they're basically trying to remove the community-made courses and promoting their own generic, structureless, auto-generated courses and filling the interface with irrelevant ads and videos.

and while duolingo's decline hasn't been as steeply dramatic, their removal of discussion forums and relevant grammar notes along with the removal of the incubator has really disappointed me. also, I'd made it pretty far in my Japanese course a few years ago when it was still linear, but I'd returned recently to find that they reset all my progress when they overturned the course structure and now, I've been stuck relearning the words "hotel" and "convenience store" for weeks.

it's not a great time for language self-study enthusiasts right now :(

[faetreides]

- # 🍁 THE NEMEAN LION !!

feels so ugly when i’m honest

cw: afab reader, ambiguous era, dubcon coded, insp. by this ask, patrick and reader have noncon somno fantasies about the other (so rlly it’s more cnc), patrick is gross and mean, situationship/roommate!patrick, unprotected p in v sex & relying on the pull out method, weed mention and wine mention, art guest star appearance (patrick mentions him), oral (afab reader receiving), hints of: foot fetish, dacryphilia, cnc in general, plus sized!reader, mythological themes, 3k words of me losing my marbles, one use of daddy, we don’t gotta be in love you knowweeeeee i don’t gotta be the oneeee you knowweeeeeeeeew

You’re making him crazy, Patrick knows it. He shouldn’t spend his mornings humping his pillows that you hold in your lap during movie nights. He definitely shouldn’t be stealing your panties and strangling his cock with the lacey fabric that’s going to end up smelling so foul from how much he’ll use the same pair over and over. He thinks he can catch your scent on his clothes when you’ve never actually been close enough to leave a reminder of you behind. Sometimes Patrick gets so frustrated with continuing at this same snail’s pace that he wishes he could just grab your face and smush it into his musky crotch. He’d let you go if you were about to pass out, maybe. You can’t get shit twisted if you’re unconscious.

He’s telling you another one of his stories, hoping to see a twinge of… something swirling in your irises. You just hum too much and squirm a bit, ever the overactive listener. Patrick would cut off his balls if it meant that he could hear anything resembling a moan from you, not just little signs that you’re listening and not speaking. The transformer movie’s reached a point where you don’t really have to pay attention, so you cutely shuffle your mess of blankets around on the couch so you can give Patrick your undivided attention. He’s had to start keeping space in his closet for the large throw blankets you bring along even though you refuse to let him turn the fan off.

“Yeah, I was with Art actually. We ate each other out back in the day, y’know, to see what it was like. He sat on my face and fuckin’ almost broke my neck, his thighs were gripping me so tight.” He coyly tilts his head to the side, pretending to be shy about the whole thing.

He narrows his eyes and analyzes your reaction. You dart your gaze around the room for a split second, struggling to tamper down the blossoming warmth in your stomach and the insecurity that comes with never being able to catch up with Patrick. You’ve confessed to it a couple times, usually after a couple of bottles of whatever cheap alchohol he’s got on hand. His nails shred into his palms with the effort it takes not to give you something to talk about, even if you think they’re only dreams.

“When was the first time someone ate you out? I can’t be the only one shoving my foot in my mouth here.”

God, what he’d give to have your feet in his mouth, and vice versa.

You play with the fluffy black blanket in your lap, making eye contact with one of the cartoon nutcrackers on it and not Patrick as you answer his question. “Oh… I’ve actually never been eaten out, maybe that’s why no one’s made me cum.”

It’s a like his world has been hit by an unexpected asteroid and blown to smithereens, bits of membrane and curdled dna scattered across the milky way. The gross-ness imbued in his bone marrow leaks out into vaccum of space as he processes this truly fucking suprising piece of information. Never in his life has Patrick been told something that just can’t be true, not when there are still good things in the world. Not when that helpful little tidbit will split him open and take over his every waking and sleeping thought.

He shakes his head, blinking rapidly. “What? What the hell do you mean no one’s ever eaten your pussy?”

“I, I don’t know. The people I've been with have just never gone out of their way to do it and I didn't make a big deal out of it.”

His heart’s breaking in half and you clearly have no idea. Patrick scrambles to sit up and grabs your hands to stop them from fiddling with the blanket anymore. There are a thousand things he wants and needs and just has to say but all he can do in the present moment is keep shaking his head and crowding you against the right arm of his tattered gray couch.

“Then they’re so fucking stupid, I can’t believe you don’t know what it feels like to have a tongue up your cunt.” He states, a firm declaration that has you throwing out a hand on his bicep to ground yourself.

Patrick looks crazed above you, dark hair impossibly soft and pupils steadily expanding outward. You slide your hand up his arm (trying to ignore the muscle there, what it’d be like when they flex as he picks you up by your ass) to place it on his firm chest. You open your mouth, trying to cobble together any kind of response you can think of but your mind is blank. Patrick seizes the opportunity and smahes his mouth against yours, when the clashing of your lips is over there’s more blood than spit. He flicks his tongue out to catch the little drops of blood dripping from your lips, moaning after he swallows each one.

You’re catching your breath, “You… you can’t… just do that.”

He rolls his eyes and grins, “I did. I can hear you through the walls at night you know? Rubbing your pussy on one of my pillows that you think I don't know you stole, crying for me.”

Damn, that’s what you get for making risky decisions while you’re ovulating. You knew you washed it and should’ve snuck in while he was out to throw it on his plaid comforter and act like it never happened. The longer you kept it stuffed between your plush thighs, smothering it in the natural scent of your pussy, the more your shyness grew. It was easier to spend your nights like that then explore the possibility of doing something else with your time, but now you’re just wishing that you hopped on Patrick’s stupidly huge dick while he was passed out and snoring and called it a day.

“I… I’m sorry, okay? You can have it back.” You say and keep the grumpiness out of your tone, having to come to terms with hoarding nothing that smells like him anymore.

“Just shut up and be happy, be good for me.” He punctuates it with a mean squeeze to your face, slowly sliding his hand down to hang around your throat and falling to his knees in front of the couch.

Maybe it’s the cheap white wine, maybe it’s the subpar edible you had earlier, but you throw caution to the wind and sink your fingers into Patrick’s hair. Your breath happily flies out of your lungs when he pushes your knees apart, coaxing your white lace panties off with his teeth. The bright lights from the TV cast a glow around him, and you hate how pretty he looks. Like if Hercules was a modern porn star, muscles rippling and eyes spearing through you as he catapults you to the stars.

The roughness of his fingers feels heavenly as he smooths them down your inner thighs, “Nice and fat pussy, dripping all over the place. Saying hi, right? It’d be rude of me to not say anything back.”

So he does, spitting right on your clit and spreading it all over your pussy. Patrick shuffles closer and takes several big lungfuls, humping the air with every whiff of your artificial body wash combined with your much more attractive musk. He opens his mouth wide and latches onto your soaking folds, flattening his tongue and licking broad stripes up your cunt. He laps up your juices sloppily, almost wagging his tongue wildly in an effort to suck up whatever he can.

There’s a coil forming in the pit of your stomach, winding tighter and tighter with every swipe of Patrick’s wet tongue. Your face flames in embarrassment once again, you don’t really know if you look bad from his point of view but you can’t stop yourself from throwing your head back against the couch and scrunching your face up. He gives your asshole an open mouthed kiss, half to tease you even further and half because he just couldn’t resist. It was glistening and winking at him and everything.

“Fuck! Fuck! That’s so- how are you so good at this?” You mewl, raking through his hair thoroughly like you’re searching for something you lost.

Patrick’s ego grows in size and he smiles as he moves to your clit, hollowing his cheeks and suckling rapidly. He buries his face in your pussy and drinks you down in several gulps, picking up speed when you resign yourself to telltale moans about much you need to cum. He flicks the tip of his tongue against your swollen clit and slows down right when you’re apart to fall over the edge. He actually chuckles into your mound and winks when you glare at him. He cuts off whatever bratty retort you armed yourself with by going back to nearly inhaling your clit without warning.

“Ungh- I really-really fucking hate you, but don’t you dare stop, I’ll kill you.”

Each suck sends pulses shooting up your core, and that scary coil in the depth of your guts tightens blissfully. You squirm, the very definition of a hot mess as you grind against his face. The friction was never enough but you keep corralling his nose into your pubic hair, fruitlessly rutting your hips with no end goal other than the urge to hump whatever’s available. You panic for a second that you’ll suffocate him or he’ll be grossed out by you not shaving, but you shouldn’t underestimate him. If anything, Patrick groans at the heady smell. Getting it straight from the source and fucking the air during his suckling.

His eyes never stray from you. Your agonized face straight out of a renaissance painting, too strung out and burning with pleasure to resemble anything normal. Your thick thighs, jiggling with every move you make, you can’t seem to decide between humping his mouth like a bitch in heat or trying to squeeze his head like a watermelon. Your sounds, wails and cries and moans and whines, he’ll have to record you next time, play it anytime and anywhere in case you misunderstand what this is. The first documentation of how much cum and fluid you can paint him in, whatever color or thickness you’ve got for him. He’ll wring it all out of you eventually, film a home movie series to chronicle every squirting session and the like.

Gun to his head, you taste like those old fashioned butterscotch hard candies. Decadent and sweet, if he could he’d sink his teeth into the slippery supple flesh and pull and rip.

After several rounds of cruel edging, your brain whites out so hard, you can almost form the blurry shapes in your peripheral vision into a red spiked tail and horned wings. Patrick’s ruining you entirely, you know that now, and the movie’s already over but you don’t spare the scrawling credits more than a weary glance. Your soul is probably cartoonishly swimming through the putrid air towards your body, but your sweaty body is shaking too much to receive it. There’s a ringing in your ears as you blink yourself into awareness, Patrick unbuckles his jeans and a blunt pressure stretches your hole out.

“Sorry, ‘m out of condoms, I’ll pull out, baby.” He huffs out, praying to whatever’s listening that he doesn’t just start pummeling your shit.

You feel your stomach bunching up before you see Patrick’s dick disappearing into you. The feeling of being split open on something so thick has you reeling, no one else you’ve been with has left you spiraling quite like this. In a room full of dicks you’d be able to spot his, you’d just have to find the one that has the back of your throat tingling and going dry just from a sniff and a look. You’d cry if he pulled out now, it’s already too late for you. This is such a stupid decision, sloppy rough sex with your roomate-turned-situationship on his worn out couch that’s older than the both of you combined.

It’s one hell of a story, and maybe some moments in life should be allowed to boil down to that. The hand loosely wrapped around your throat tightens its hold, you welcome the thumb pushing into your mouth without prompting. The depravity of it all makes you feel owned, has you seriously considering living your life as some guy’s exclusive pet whore. The ‘squelch’s and the ‘schlick’s that come with his savage thrusts and milk white strings connecting the base of his cock to your puffy pussy.

Every breath you think you’re going to be able to take, he steals from you and mocks your whimpery “unh-unh-unh~”’s in his raspy mid-fuck voice.

“This is the only dick you’ll be hanging off of from now on, got it? Can’t let some lousy jackass try to sew his balls to this pussy when it’s not even gonna cream around him.” You say yes to that hissed demand, yes of course, Daddy.

Patrick plunges his cock to the hilt into your cunt in one sharp stroke, gasping and gripping your hip to distract himself from the way your walls are clenching around his length. Every part of you is greedy apparently, you’re perfect for each other then. The position he has you in is so filthy, he’s standing and hosting your legs up over his shoulders, folding you in half on the couch. His dirty levi’s pool around his feet and the sound of his belt hitting the floor inspires awful thoughts in you. Your sweat mixes together and trickles down your legs, sticking to his leg hair.

You can have it soft once he’s gotten this demon off his back and out of his system, you can ride him while you’re cozied up in bed, lazily rolling your hips until you get tired a couple minutes later and clinging to the caresses on your love handles. Patrick has to destroy something before he can even stand to think about putting it back together, your insides and you yourself are no exception. Your walls feel like the finest quality silk around his throbbing cock, leaking inside of you as he clutches onto your ankles. The TV’s automatically shut off by now, and the lack of background noise enhances his animalistic grunts and deep moans.

“Gonna fuck your tits next time, fuck-what the fuck-you’re too damn tight, massage them for you after, rub your cunt raw-“

Patrick fucks like he’s staking claim on a spoil of war, you’re learning, as if the pale ferryman’s hot on his heels and this sliver of time is the only sacred thing he’ll ever get in his wretched mortal life. All his, gone limp between bloody jaws and killing hands. He snarls in your face as he pounds your pussy, angling his hips to stab deeper in you than should be medically possible. You don’t when you start tearing up, but Patrick does nothing to wipe away your tears, not even lick them up. He just fucks you to the point where you’re crying, shutting his eyes as he throws his head back so you can’t see that he’s crying too. The both of you borrow from different sources of emotion.

“You sounded so scared when you were cumming, made my balls twitch, was cute.” Patrick tells you in between messy kisses, more focused on almost eating your face than properly locking lips with you.

His tongue hangs out of his mouth as he abruptly yanks himself out of you and lavishes your belly in ropes after ropes of cum. You’d reach down to dip a finger in and taste it, but you’re too annoyed at the thought that he’s depriving you of an orgasm again. You haven’t even decided whether you’re going to pout or flatbout get up and leave when Patrick’s sliding home once more. You give him a punched out gasp, sort of pained and kind of relieved, in response. He hisses through his teeth, grinding them together like it’s burning the flesh on his cock to plunge back into your searing pussy. Actively breaking and remaking you. Both of your muscles tense up as the wave threatens to crash over you.

“You can cry some more, if you want, I'd like that a lot. Beg me to save you from what I’m doing to you, to this tight pussy.”

Happy or sad, doesn’t matter. He knows you like it when he keeps you from fighting back, you suit being manhandled and made to take dick better than anyone else he’s slummed it with.

He hunches his back forward to kiss you again, and you claw red stripes down it as your tongue maps out every inch of his mouth. He pulls back and you spend several seconds like that sharing breath. You don’t realize what you’re saying out loud, things like ‘Holy shit you’re so fucking big-so good-it’s so fucking good’ and ‘Feels better than i thought it would, how is that even possible?’ It’s like your own little sex obsessed podcast, centering every episode around how situationship dick is on another level and will irrevocably destroy you. Patrick chuckles, he can’t wait to hold every treasured compliment from you over your head. You could say you’re done with whatever this is when he leaves the toilet seat up again but he’ll never forget you howling for him and his cock to never leave you.

Patrick will swing himself over the net into overstimulation before the next time your pussy’s clamping down on his thick cock and spasming, but he’ll be damned if you’re not gonna end up passed out and drooling while the sun rises. You can spend future movie nights cockwarming him, if you can stand to endure the sickeningly perfect stretch without being allowed to get your cunt beat. You’re mewling when you froth the base of his dick again, your walls pulse around him like you’re a cat laving up your favorite cream. Tonight’s not the night where you’ll be getting it straight from the source, maybe when you’re willing to take certain risks. His smiles are the most genuine when you drag out your whine to follow the speed in which he pulls out to paint your body. Tangy ribbons hanging over your love handles and dripping down to your ass cheeks.

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 16: Angst-Themed (Saturday Sentence Starters)

wc: 1k | Rated: T | cw: Steve’s parents are arguing (he is overhearing it briefly but there are some descriptions of yelling), toxic family dynamics, unstable marriage, cheating

Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unstable Marriage, Toxic Family Dynamics, Cheating

“I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline,” Steve hears his father bellow from downstairs, “Not tonight.”

He snaps his comic closed and tosses it on the floor.

Steve has no idea what his parents are arguing about. Hell, they don’t even need an excuse these days, he thinks. Someone can so much as fart and it will start a goddamn screaming match.

He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the holidays and his parents are both off work until the beginning of the New Year. It’s snowing heavy out so they can’t go down to the Martens’ house – their best friends-come-buffer zones.

“Oh, John!” his mother chides before there is a lower muffle that he can’t quite make out.

While being hard of hearing allows him not to hear anything below a shout, the broken argument is still frustrating.

His parents might not need an excuse to fight, but he’d still like to know what it’s about. Gain intel for the inevitable coming days of being stuck in the middle.

Steve has a few guesses as to what it could be.

His mother bought a new car with her Christmas bonus finally topping up her bank account and thus justifying an indulgent and expensive purchase. His father always hates that.

Steve smirks.

If his father didn’t like that kind of independence, why did he marry a high-paid lawyer?

But, the more likely scenario considering his father’s apparent insistence he ‘doesn’t want to fight’ is that he is cheating again.

Cindy, his secretary, or someone new – take your pick.

The telltale signs have been there for a month or two. A renewed cheery attitude, longer office hours, a fresh haircut and new clothes.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might be a little bit of a motivator behind his mother’s car purchase too – 

“ – Cindy!” his mother shrieks.

Yep, there it is.

Steve rolls off the bed, planting his feet on the carpet right by his shoes.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, scooping up his keys and wallet from the nightstand.

He’s just about halfway to Forest Hills, driving at a snail’s pace because he can’t see for snow, when he begins to regret his decision to leave the house.

Maybe he shouldn’t just barge in on the Munsons unannounced. Like sure, his friendship with Eddie is… teetering on not being entirely platonic. But this might be too much.

He always thought it was too much when he’d walk down to stay at Carol Perkins’ house for an impromptu sleepover. And there was always this awkward, knowing going on with the Wheeler’s when he was dating Nancy and spending a lot of time just hanging about.

Lingering for too long in the kitchen chatting to Karen or watching a game with Ted until the guy started snoring too loud to hear the commentators.

It was all there but largely unspoken.

Only Robin knows the details. And even then, he’s sure that her father’s friendliness towards him was partly due to his daughter telling him all about the trouble at the ‘ol Harrington house. He doesn’t blame his best friend for likely doing so. And he doesn’t consider it blabbing, either. Robin’s parents – her whole family – are amazing.

But some of his parent’s shit is stupid at best, hard to take at worst.

And he is scared to let Eddie in on it.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

Being a Harrington is too much.

Wayne answers the door with a cup of cocoa that seems glued to his left hand in winter.

“Steve,” he says, voice gruff as ever despite a warm smile.

“Hi,” he replies, looking down at his snow-covered boots, “Eddie in?”

Of course, he’s in, his van is parked outside.

Steve can feel the warmth from inside the trailer. See the twinkle of lights from the Munson’s small, but heavily-decorated, Christmas tree. The smell of cocoa overpowering the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls over his shoulder, “Steve’s here.”

In a flash, Eddie runs to the front door and practically bumps into his uncle.

“Come in!” he insists, wide-eyed as he looks past his shoulder at the falling snow.

And before Steve can even step in, Eddie is pulling him by his parka sleeve. He only just manages to scrape off his boots on the ‘Home Sweet Home’ adorned welcome mat.

“What some cocoa?” Eddie offers, eliciting a grumble from Wayne.

“I asked if you wanted some,” he chides.

“But Steve might want some,” Eddie grins.

“How about I heat up a pot now, and whoever wants some’s got it?” Wayne suggests, pursing his lips at Eddie and moving to the stove before his nephew can make any more requests.

“Follow me,” Eddie says, grabbing his hand, “I made cookies.”

He wiggles his brows and begins leading Steve to the kitchen.

As he is pulled along, Steve tries not to think about the fact that they are holding hands. Or how he wishes his fifteen-minute-ago Self had thought to bring an overnight bag and allowed himself to assume the Munsons would allow him to stay the night.

But it might be even harder to stop himself from squeezing his friend’s hand and lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

Eddie lets go of his hand to gesture to the tray of Christmas-themed shapes, all looking a little too dark for gingerbread as they rest on the kitchen island.

“Pick one, Big Boy,” Eddie beams.

Steve reaches for a reindeer, flexing his fingers as he goes and commits the feeling of Eddie’s rings to memory.

“No!” Eddie shrieks, lightly smacking his hand enough that he drops it, leaving the cookie to snap in half as it falls back onto the tray, “His antlers are broken.”

“Christ, boy!” Wayne curses, stirring the pot on the stovetop.

Okay, a tree then…

“The star is missing!”

A bell?

“That was already snapped in half when I got them out of the oven”, Eddie admits with a tight-lipped smile.

Steve places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. To him, they all look at least a little crumbly – some he would even describe as lightly charred.

“How about you pick one for me then, Betty Crocker?” he chuckles.

Eddie giggles, twirling a lock of his hair as he carefully considers the tray of mostly broken, dry cookies.

He watches Eddie for a long enough time that Wayne pushes a mug into his hand, the warmth of Eddie’s hand remaining in place due to the heat of the cocoa. It’s a Chicago Cubs mug, one that he finds himself holding at some point each time he is here as if Wayne considers it Steve’s own.

He smiles for the first time in three days.

[bluehwale]

I loved that unconventional meeting post could you maybe do a post where they realize that after meeting you for the first time that they might have a crush on you ?

ateez realizing they have a crush on you!

part 2 to unconventional first encounters with ateez (please read this first!)

pairing. ateez x reader (specifically f! reader for seonghwa & jongho)

genre. fluff, humor, teeny tiny angst if you squint

warning(s). injuries, drinking, mint choco ice cream slander, some of the endings are half-assed im sorry

word count. 8.1k oopsies

note. tysm for sending in this request!! and i'm so sorry it took so long to get to you </3 im an ungifted burnout kid so i write and think at a snail's pace lmao bUT i hope u enjoy this one :-D (feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ily all muah)

masterlist

kim hongjoong

here's the thing about hongjoong

he can be really cool with his skateboard and his obscure music taste and whatnot

but

he can also be a little bit out of tune with his feelings (this is a certified testimony from his self-proclaimed best friend, wooyoung)

it's obvious from how he has heart eyes for you but wouldn't make a move

"so when are you taking yn out on a date?"

hongjoong's skateboard halts in an abrupt stop after he suddenly plants a foot on the concrete to take a look at wooyoung as if he's grown two heads. "when am i what??"

and wooyoung’s just kinda staring him down like man, you can't be serious rn,,,,,

everyone and their mothers in this skatepark probably knows that hongjoong is basically head over heels for you because

it's just that obvious!!!!

and wooyoung has to resist from pulling out all of his hair in frustration because the man in question is eyeing him as if he’s the weird one

it all started after your Incident™ (you falling on your ass and having hongjoong help you)

you started to frequent the skatepark with your best friend mingi, and hongjoong even mustered up enough courage to ask you for your number one day

and now you both text each other every day >:-D

he even got you your own skateboard

and he also taught you how to skate hehe

he's so whipped

"hongjoong!"

the boy immediately turns to the direction of your voice (he can recognize it even while asleep) and he sees you waving excitedly at him beside an unfamiliar boy with pink hair

unbeknownst to himself, hongjoong's face lights up at the sight of you and he quickly pushes his foot off the ground to skate towards you

"yn!" he hops off his board and pulls you into a hug, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair that makes him feel all warm and fuzzy before involuntarily pulling away to look at the boy with an all black get up beside you. “who’s this?”

“oh! this is seonghwa!” the boy with pink hair nods at hongjoong and gives him a friendly wave in greeting. “he’s mingi’s cousin. he’s visiting for a little while.”

“oh hello, cool skateboard!” hongjoong greets in return, gesturing to the pink skateboard by the boy's feet that contrasts his dark outfit and quiet personality, “i’m hongjoong! i hope we can be good friends!”

maybe not

hongjoong doesn’t know the reason why, but he feels this really uncomfortable sinking feeling in his chest whenever he sees you together with seonghwa

despite his pink hair, the boy looks very intimidating and it seems like he doesn’t talk to anyone except you

and whenever he’s with you, there’s a happy grin permanently etched on his face and you both just look so happy together—

“they probably like each other.”

hongjoong snaps his head to glare at wooyoung who’s munching on a pack of strawberry pocky sticks as he watches you and seonghwa before innocently looking back at hongjoong with a shrug, “what? i’m just saying.”

and hongjoong starts sulking because you know what,, wooyoung might be right :-( 

(you, wooyoung, seonghwa, and mingi actually devised a plan to act upon your crush on hongjoong) ((and wooyoung's role is the catalyst to set the plan in motion))

and you know what,,,, maybe hongjoong does have a crush on you. yeah, but just a little bit—

“oof!” wooyoung winces when he sees you land a particularly harsh fall from your skateboard that leaves you lying face first on the ground, and he scrambles to shove the remaining pocky sticks in his mouth before thrusting hongjoong’s first aid kit towards the shell-shocked owner. “dude, go! this is your chance!”

hongjoong was just zipping up his first aid kit after grabbing his can of antiseptic spray and band aids and was ready to run to you until he sees seonghwa already tending to your wounds as he sits beside you

:-( he’s a second too late

(it looks like you two are talking about something or someone as both of your eyes discreetly flicker to hongjoong (who’s too upset to notice))

what he diD notice, however, is the pack of band aids in seonghwa’s hands

and he kinda has to crouch and put his hands on his knees so that his squinted eyes can see better 

are thoSE

ARE THOSE BLACK STAR WARS BAND AIDS???

he thought cute graphic band aids were his– and only his– thing !!!!

dang it, and they look super cool too !! :-(

his own pack of pink disney princesses band aids fall to the ground as he dejectedly walks back to where wooyoung is and he slumps to the ground to place back his first aid stuff back inside the kit

looks like he won’t be needing them anymore :-(

but he still finds himself heading to where you are, and he can’t help it when he worriedly takes in your scraped elbows and knees that are covered by the black band aids. “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m good,” you say, and hongjoong’s too distracted to notice you glancing at seonghwa who gives you an encouraging nod. you nervously twiddle your thumbs, “uhH, hongjoong, uhm. listen, do you– i MEAN, would you want to maybe grab some milkshake with me sometimes?”

“oh sure! who else is gonna be there?”

…………..

(on the other side of the park, wooyoung rips out the headpiece that taps into seonghwa’s hidden microphone and almost bashes his binoculars in frustration)

just then, hongjoong feels shivers run down his spine as he feels a pair of dark eyes glaring daggers into his back and he can feel the devil on his shoulder whisper harshly into his ear, “they’re asking you out on a date, idiot.”

(spoiler alert: it’s seonghwa)

“i was thinking maybe it could just be the two of us? you know? aHa but it’s totally fine if you don’t want to—!”

“no nO, of course !!! i’d love to!!!” hongjoong exclaims, shooting up from the ground from sheer excitement at the thought of getting milkshake with you

this is the best day of his life

“great, it’s a date then :-D OH SHIT—”

(another spoiler alert: hongjoong fainted)

park seonghwa

seonghwa can definitely see himself marrying you

but not during moments like this

"shh, don't move."

seonghwa lets out a startled noise when he's suddenly awakened by a weight on him, and he almost screams his head off until his bleary eyes slowly open to see your figure straddling his torso with what seems to be an ice cream stick (?) held in your hand while you inch closer to his face

oh! it's just you! :-D (he thought it'd be his sleep paralysis demon)

it had been your idea to buy a house and live together after he nervously got on one knee on your fifth date; which seems all too soon but it appeases both of your parents enough for them to shut up on the marriage talk, much to your and seonghwa’s relief

and after six months of living together, he's proud to declare that you're his best friend or more specifically, his soulmate :-D

which is why you both are comfortable enough to do oddly domestic things together

"baby," he rasps, voice still thick with sleep, before placing his hands on your hips to circle the skin over your nightgown with his thumbs. he lets slip an amused chuckle when he sees your furrowed brows as he holds you off from coming near him. "what are you trying to do, hm?"

"i'm waxing your brows."

seonghwa's eyes almost gouged out of their sockets

"you're what???" he snaps his head to look at the clock at the far end of the wall, all the while trying to push you off him. "why are you trying to wax my brows at… 2 in the morning??!!!!"

"no, because—" you breathlessly giggle at the panic on his face, struggling to get his grip off your wrists. "you'll thank me for this!!! trust me!"

seonghwa, mortified at the thought of you shaping his brows with only a single ambient light aiding your sight in the dark bedroom, thrashes his legs under you like a petulant child. "i'll have you know that my eyebrows get compliments all the time >:-( !!! now get off me !!"

"huh. they must be lying because you kinda look like the red angry bird, dude :-/"

∑(O_O;) !!!!

the image of the cartoon character pops up in his head; the red bird with thick furrowed brows comically pelting towards a wall of green pigs, stupefying his thoughts

his movements falter

"do- do i really.... look like an angry bird?"

"a cute angry bird," you reassure him, gently running your fingers through his hair when you see him pout after his grip on you loosen and his arms fall limply to his sides on the bed. "now, hold still okay? i'm gonna make you look super pretty!"

you dip the wooden stick into the pot of melted wax in the still plugged-in wax heater sitting on the nightstand, prepping the pink wax around the stick before leaning closer to seonghwa's face

"it's pink?" he softly asks, referring to the wax that he's only just now paying attention to, and you nod in reply

"of course! :-D it's your favorite color."

you miss the endearing blush overtaking his cheeks as you lightly slather the wax on his skin before moving to take a muslin wax strip from the pack beside you

seonghwa's hands are back on your hips (this time for his own comfort) as his wide doe eyes nervously peer up at you who's sticking the strip onto the slowly hardening wax on his skin, ready to pull

"w-will it hurt?"

"nah, you won't even feel a single thing. no need to worry :-D"

rip!

"yAAAAAOOOOOOOOwwWWwWCCcHCHHHHHCH !!!!!!! THAT HURTS !!!!!"

his head twists side to side dramatically and you have to prop your hands on his chest to regain balance on his shaking body and your own from laughing

"you said it wouldn't hurt!" he exclaims with an exaggerated pout, rubbing at the sore skin and his eyebrows furrow when you wouldn't stop laughing. "this is serious! you're hurting your future husband!"

"shut up," you playfully roll your eyes, the smile that seonghwa adores lighting up your face. "don't have to remind me that i'm stuck with your ass forever."

he grumbles, pulling the blanket to cover half of his face and hide the growing smile threatening to take over his face. "i'm calling off our engagement."

you dip the stick back in the melted wax as you hum, "you love me too much to do that."

"that's true."

this time, your cheeks grow hot as you attempt to recover from almost losing your grip on the stick, his statement having caught you off guard. he smirks at your reaction and you playfully swat his arm, earning a small ow! as you sarcastically quip, "how romantic."

you return to applying the wax on the areas of his brows that needs cleanup after your fingers forcefully drag the upturned corners of his lips downwards

"you know... i figured i'll just marry the first person my parents set me up with," he breathes, a soft smile lingering on his lips at your focused expression. "but if it hadn't been you, i'd go through– hm– i’d willingly go through 219 horrible ! horrible ! dates just so i could be with you."

"oh please," you snort, raising an eyebrow at his statement. "you'd probably end up with someone else if you went on 219 dates." 

"you're right.... who could ever resist this scrumptious, absolutely handsome face–"

"i'm gonna make sure the next strip hurts twice as much :-)"

"yN ahaha PLEASE DON'T ahahah I WAS JUST JOKING—"

jeong yunho

"tonight is your first mission."

wooyoung twirls the pointing stick in his hand before slapping it against his open palm, calmly sauntering across the leeway in front of the big whiteboard in the coworking space he rented. "today's topic will cover everything you need to know, so i need you to listen very closely."

amidst the numerous empty chairs behind the large meeting table sits an eager boy with soft brown hair, his wide eyes taking in each and every word on the board while his right hand grips a pen— ready to take notes on the very important lecture wooyoung's presenting today

"but first, a pop quiz!" wooyoung suddenly smacks his pointing stick against the board, smudging the writing that reads dealing with drunk yn 101 written in pink dry erase marker and effectively startling the poor boy from the loud noise

"a- a pop quiz?" baffled, yunho feels the grip on his high-quality japanese brand pen slip. he scrambles over the table littered with his best stationery to prepare a crisp spiderman themed loose leaf paper, "but-but i haven't even learned anything yet!"

"hush, this is to test out your prior knowledge. now, i'll begin with a case study."

jeong yunho, a widely-known overachiever, strives to be the best; especially when it comes to things for you– which is why he currently remains unblinking out of sheer focus on wanting to get his answers right

he has to get it right!!!

"you're both in a cab to go home when suddenly," wooyoung aggressively taps on the stickman drawing that poorly resembles you on the board, "drunk yn sees a claw machine on the side of the road and wants you to win a stuffed animal for them. what would you do?"

what would i do? yunho can feel the sweat beading on his forehead as he desperately racks his brain for an answer that would please the red haired boy who has an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips

think, jeong yunho! think!

"i would... politely ask for the taxi man to stop and accompany yn to the claw machine—"

"WRONG. ddaeng !!!! man, how are you so down bad– sigh,,,,, dude," wooyoung turns to lean his forehead against the whiteboard and sighs before pulling out his wallet and moves to step out of the room. "i'm gonna extend another hour for this meeting room, brb."

turns out, nothing, not even wooyoung's 4 hour lecture, could ever prepare yunho for havoc personified

a.k.a. drunk you after a night of celebrating the end of your midterms

"noooo!!! oof-" you stumble against your dresser as you try to run away from the wide-eyed boy standing dumbfoundedly in the middle of your bedroom, your bottle of cleansing oil tightly gripped in one of his hand and your cleanser in the other

yunho rapidly shakes his head like a cartoon character to get his muddled brain back on earth when you ungracefully fall onto your carpeted floor and make no move to get up. he moves closer to gently pull you off the floor as he sighs, "you'll regret not removing your makeup when you wake up tomorrow."

"no !!!" you lift your head up at his words, your pleading eyes look close to tears and yunho panics at the sight. "i don't wanna! my eye makeup looks so pretty today!! i don't want it gone :-("

yunho had to refrain from grabbing one of your pillows and stuffing it in his mouth to muffle the scream that almost slipped out at your cuteness

he also almost screamed fuck it! and hop on the bed to cuddle you to sleep right then and there but he remembers that wooyoung would probably be disappointed in him and he also doesn't want you to be uncomfortable from the smudged makeup the next morning :-(

so he stands his ground and tries to think of something that would get your makeup off while still making you happy

"how about we take some pictures?"

and that's how you both end up having a full blown out photoshoot in your bedroom, with yunho lying down on the floor at a funny angle to take pictures of you posing on the bed with your phone while his own phone rests between his armpits (... don’t ask) to shine its flashlight for extra lighting

he can't help his own chuckles from escaping his mouth as he hears your giggles, his chest warming at the sound

after an estimate of 241 pictures taken, you're finally satisfied and allows him to help take your makeup off

"am i doing this right?" yunho nervously asks, gently rubbing the cleansing oil into your skin that slowly blends with your makeup as you dazedly nod, prompting him to take a hold of your chin to minimize your movement and causing you to giggle

"why are you laughing?" he smiles, watching your eyes crinkle as you continue to giggle softly 

"i don't know. i just really really reeeeallly like you."

he knows you're drunk and it might just be a mindless statement and yet still, he can't help but freeze as he feels his heart skip a beat

he stops massaging the oil on your face

you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him—!

“uh,, actually that’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you. i- i like you too—“

“yEah yeah, i know!” yunho feels your hand blindly slap all over his face until you finally muffle his mouth, earning a glare from the boy. “you can tell me that tomorrow. noW get back to cLeansing!!”

yunho huffs and playfully rolls his eyes at you, trying to stop himself from grinning ear to ear while inching you closer to the sink so he can rinse off the oil, “aye aye ma’am.”

“noW uhguh–” you sputter out some water that got into your mouth, earning an oops from yunho, “you have to double cleanse with tHat cleanser,” you point at the tube of cleanser on your sink, “for at least 60 seconds.”

and when he finally lathers the face wash on your skin, he actually starts counting, “one, two, three, four, five, six—”

he'd do anything for you

kang yeosang

there are two things yeosang absolutely hates in this world

number one: your job

“i have to get to work, yeo,” you chuckle, “you gotta let me go.”

the android in question is glued to your arm, refusing to let you out the door by clinging to your arm and snuggling his face into your shoulder in an attempt of convincing you to stay

“You always leave,” the blonde pouts, his eyes glistening at the thought of always being left alone from every weekday morning to wait for you to come back at night. “Why must you go to work? Can’t you just stay here?”

sometimes, you forget that your android is supposed to be a boyfriend android – which is probably why he craves your company all the time

ok you feel a bit guilty now :-(

but you’re gonna have to work because !!! unfortunately, you need money to survive !!!!

“well, unfortunately–” you struggle to untangle yourself from his grip as you try to put on your shoes, “i have to work to get money so that i can buy food to live and pay for my electricity bills that keeps your battery charged.”

he grumbles and lets out a small yelp when you successfully unlatched yourself from him, “That’s so unfair!”

you shrug as your fingers grasp the doorknob to swing your apartment door open, “mhm, it’s called capitalism. see you tonight!”

you come home from work only to find yeosang missing

just as you were about to have your second mental breakdown, you spot a lilac post it stuck to your fridge that reads I’ll be out late. Dinner’s in the fridge. :-) in perfectly aligned and neat handwriting with proper punctuation– it’s definitely yeosang

but where could he have gone to???? you don’t even know if he knows his way around the city !! omg what if he’s lost and can’t find his way back home–

you hear the sound of your front door slamming shut

“Honey, I’m home!”

you immediately rush to your entrance door, ready to reprimand him for going out until so late at night, only to pause when you see yeosang dressed in a… bright pink polo shirt… with a blue apron that covers his front… and a matching blue cap that sits atop his mop of golden hair and wait a minute is that the baskin robbins logo???

“I got a job,” he grins at you, proudly tapping on the circular logo with the initials BR that rests smack dab right above the pocket of his blue apron. “They pay me to scoop ice cream into cups for tiny humans all day! Now you won’t have to work anymore!”

he’s so proud of himself :-D

this way, you won’t be as tired and he also gets to hangout with you all day long at home !! hehe

“you know… if you have a job, that means you’re gonna have to go work everyday,,, so,, you can’t really be with me either way :-/”

his face crumples at the realization

“Do you know the number of the Baskin Robbins down the street? I’ll have to tell them that I’m quitting.”

another thing yeosang hates the most in the world is: you going on dates

“strawberry for golden boy. target located and is currently approaching the table. do you copy? over.”

yeosang can’t really remember why he agreed on showing up with a fake mustache plastered above his lips and a black fedora hiding his blonde hair in the restaurant where you are to meet the guy you’ve been talking to on tinder for days

but anything to make you happy, he guess

sitting in a few tables away from yours, yeosang nonchalantly stirs the spoon in his overpriced cup of hot chocolate as he brings the dollar store walkie talkie upon his lips, “Are the codenames really necessary?”

“…”

he sighs, “Over.”

“of course they are! we don’t want our identities compromised! wait shit he’s getting closer now, i’ll talk to you later. over and out.”

yeosang squints at the guy sitting in front of you, scanning his admittedly handsome face to quickly run a background check on him

.... for safety purposes, of course

choi jongho. born in seoul. went to seoul national university. graduated magna cum laude. is currently pursuing his masters. non-existent criminal record. does environmental volunteer work on a monthly basis. can also ?? break an apple with his bare hands ??

yeosang gulps

this guy is basically perfect

his eyes flits back to you, the sight of you laughing at something jongho said making his stomach churn

and his eyebrows furrow because ?? he’s an android ?? he doesn’t even have an actual stomach so how is he even experiencing all of these overwhelming emotions— oh.

he’s jealous

“—and did you see the way he smiled at me?” you gush excitedly all the way back home, making sure your skips are on par with yeosang’s brisk walk. “he’s adorable! we already planned second date for next week and i’m so excited—”

“52 percent.”

you pause at your tracks, turning to look at yeosang who abruptly stopped walking. “huh? what was that?”

“You’re 52% compatible with Choi Jongho.”

“oh ! i guess that’s not too shabby. although, i thought it’d be a lot higher,” you bring a finger to your chin, deep in thought

“...You’re 96% compatible with me.”

THERE he finally said it

his electric motor is probably overheating from how flustered he is but, according to his system, it’s advised to confess to the person you like instead of holding back your feelings (source: wikihow)

so, he’s doing just that

it’s a good thing that he doesn’t have sweat glands because he’s pretty sure this street would’ve been flooded by now from how nervous he is as he asks, “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

you stood in front of him with your eyes comically widened, and based on your silence, he can kinda guess what’s coming next

aha, looks like he's gonna have to shut down for the next 168 hours!

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you can forget it. I just wanted to let you know—“ “sure” “—that I like you– ...I’m sorry, what?”

you chuckle at his shocked expression, “i said yes, yeosang. i’ve actually been waiting for you to ask me that.”

(you ended up having to bring yeosang in for maintenance and pay a $150 fee because yeosang literally short circuited at your answer)

choi san

san finds it kinda hilarious how you’ve become his best friend, seeing as you seem to be the complete opposite of him

“what do you mean you hate mint choco??” san gawks, both of his palms lying flat against the glass encasing the freezer lined with tubs of various ice cream flavors as he turns to you with an incredulous look. “how could you even say that?!!!!!”

unbeknownst to san, the blonde baskin robbins employee behind the cashier register scowls at him, annoyed that he’s going to have to clean the fingerprint marks left on the glass

you snort, “everyone knows that cookie dough is superior,” you stick your tongue out at him, eliciting a dramatic gasp from the dark haired boy, “mint chocolate tastes like eating toothpaste with chocolate chips anyway. big yuck.”

“that’s ridiculous!” san, the official defender of the controversial green ice cream, exclaims. “how are you even comparing an oral hygienic product to food?? that’s not fair!! they don’t even taste remotely alike !!!”

“mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night, sannie,” you yawn, purposely flapping a hand over your open mouth to annoy him and you giggle once he starts to pout

“Excuse me," the inhumanely gorgeous cashier calls, surprising both you and san out of the little bubble that seems to form whenever the two of you are together, "are you ready to order? You’re holding up the line.” the blonde says, a grim look on his face

you smile apologetically at the employee who has a blue circular sticker on his uniform that reads new hire and you move to tell him the ice cream you want

while waiting for the employee to scoop your ice cream into a cup, you grimace when you look behind you to see a long line of teary-eyed kids with their glaring parents, probably because it's taking too long to get their ice cream

oopsies

you and san immediately booked out of there after he was done paying

“as i was saying,” san pops in a spoonful of his ice cream before continuing, “mint choco doesn’t taste like toothpaste,” you open your mouth, ready to object, but san took this chance to shovel a spoon of the dessert into your mouth, making you sputter in disgust of the taste and effectively shutting you up, “it’s toothpaste that taste like mint chocolate.”

you pause your steps before turning to look at him in disbelief, “are you even hearing yourself right now?”

he said what he said okay!! and he’ll stand by it ┐( ˘ ､ ˘ )┌

“sometimes…. i wonder what goes on in your brain… because dude, that does nOt make any sense at all.”

ok no, you know what doesn’t make sense?

it doesn’t make sense how san seems to think of you 24/7

when he strolls around the park and sees a golden retriever quietly mingling? that’s you.

the smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee when he steps into his university cafe? he loves it because he thinks it smells exactly like you.

someone’s music leaking through their headphones in the hallways? oh wait, you two blasted this song in his car once.

grocery shopping alone? he better grab some of those birthday cake flavored oreos for you even though he hates them because he thinks they’re too sweet.

it’s just what friends do, right?

“what are we watching tonight?”

ever since you two became friends, it’s become a tradition to hold a weekly movie night at your place

and without fail, san always uses this time to try and convert you to become a mint choco ice cream lover

this would be his 12th attempt

“can we watch inside out?” you say, already munching on your microwave popcorn as you lounge next to him on the loveseat in your living room. “i feel like crying today.”

san almost jumps out of the couch to do his little dance

because you know what they say,,,,,,,,,

when you’re sad, eat ice cream!

and he’s gonna make sure you eat some ice cream, alright!! :-D

specifically, his favorite ice cream flavor that he's got in your freezer :-D

so, in the middle of the movie, right after bing bong tragically disappears into the abyss (san still sheds a tear despite this being his twentieth time watching the film) and he hears your tell-tale sniffles, he dashes off to your fridge and grabs the pint of ice cream he brought for tonight along with two spoons before returning back to stand in front of the tv screen

“fear not!” san announces, holding the pint of ice cream above his head while the other hand that is gripping the spoons is placed on his hip. “i have just the right thing to make you feel better!”

he excitedly pries the lid of the pint open and you groan as you wipe the tears under your eyes, “san, i’m really not in the mood to have mint choco ice cream shoved into my throat today—”

you’re cut off by san almost shooting through your apartment roof as he blankly stares inside the pint, “hUH?”

he furrows his brows when instead of the mint green ice cream, he’s greeted by the thick consistency of creamy soft brown ice cream with chocolate chips

it can’t be

why did he get your favorite ice cream flavor instead of his own?????

he hates cookie dough ice cream, and he’s a hundred percent sure he got a pint of mint choco chip ice cream— wait a minute,

“woah, they’re really everywhere,” san mutters to himself while looking at the shelves as he pushes the grocery store cart, “yn would love this!”

“love what?” his roommate, mingi, pops up, dropping a pack of a party sized barbeque chips into the cart

“yn would love this grocery store,” he says, referring to the newly opened grocery store they're in as he hums, “there's every product that’s endorsed by their favorite k-pop group in here. i’d have to take them here sometime.”

“at this point just date yn already.”

san glares at his friend, blindly reaching for what he thinks is a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream with the thought of you stuck in his head, as always, “i don’t even talk about them that often !!!”

“sure you don’t.”

“is that…. cookie dough?”

“yeah, i guess— oof!” he falls to the ground when you literally jump on him

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BEST FRIEND?!!!”

after san’s reassured you that he’s still him and not some anti-mint choco san clone, you happily eat up the pint of cookie dough ice cream throughout the rest of the movie while san tries to reflect on the new found revelation that he has a crush on you

now, whenever he looks at you, everything seems to fade away and cartoonish pink flowers would appear around you and start blooming (he also hears a soft tune that goes lalalala~ in the background)

oh, and he also thinks he’d stop eating mint chocolate chip ice cream just to appease you

his friends are right, he is a simp

song mingi

long story short… you decided to move into mingi’s 2 bedroom apartment to escape from your insufferable roommate !! :-D

it had been the boy’s idea because you two meet each other literally every single day and so he thought hey, living together doesn’t sound so bad !!! you should just move in with me!! i have a spare bedroom that’s been empty for a while !! 

and so you immediately packed your things, left your roommate gaping when she saw her previous one night stand awkwardly waving at her as he helped you load your things to his car, and never looked back 

now you’re both currently skipping down the street en route to the local farmer’s market because mingi swears that they have cheaper and fresher produce compared to any grocery store out there

you both stop at the first stall you see

“dude, check it out :O” you point at one of the corns on display, “that one totally looks like nanami :O”

he tilts his head as he tries his best to discern any similarities between the crop and your favorite jujutsu kaisen character………. only to come up with nothing

“hm. i don’t see it.”

“no, no!” you jump up and down, hands flailing everywhere as you try to gesture out corn nanami’s features. “you see! the corn hair is, well, obviously his hair, and the green jacket kinda looks like his suit don’t you think? and oh–”

to any nearing passerby, it seems like you two are a pair of excited newlyweds who were highschool sweethearts as mingi gazes at you fondly as you continue to ramble on about the corn-nanami doppelganger

which sounds totally stupid, but he doesn't mind at all

having been too entranced by whatever it was you were saying, mingi only snaps out of his fixation on you when he realized you caught on to his staring

he clears his suddenly dry throat and his eyes flick to anywhere except you. “ehm, e–EHm yeah right,, i guess he kinda looks like, uh, that corn.”

you playfully bump your side into his arm as you exclaim an “I KNOW RIGHT” and you accidentally start a bump fight when mingi starts practically shoving you back (he sometimes forget just how big he is) and you’re both just giggling at each other like stupid kids until—

“what a good-looking couple! i’ll give you two a discount! :-D”

mingi feels you freeze up against him and shake your head at lightning speed, “oh, we’re not… we’re not a—“

“how much? :-D” he interrupts, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer as he grins at the stall owner who starts cooing

meanwhile, you resist the tempting act of whacking him with your reusable tote bag

and you may be trying to tone down the heat on your cheeks bUT that’s besides the point !!!

you’re not a couple

yet

“how cute!” the stall owner squeals, and you can nearly see the dollar signs in her eyes as gullible mingi fails to see beyond her sly marketing ploy. she hums in contemplation, “hm, maybe i shouldn’t favor you two. wouldn’t be fair for the singles out there, am i right?”

you nervously chuckle, “that’s perfectly fine!” you try to push mingi to move along the market but it’s like his feet are immediately rooted to the ground once he hears compliments directed at you both. “psst mingi, move your ass— aha i’m pretty sure we still have some corn back home anyways—“

“do we really look cute together? :-D”

cue you smacking your palm against your forehead

“why of course!” the woman nods her head eagerly, “absolutely adorable. and especially with a fine handsome young man like you!” she turns to look at you, “he’s a good one. don’t lose him, dear.”

dang, maybe you should ask her which business school she went to because her marketing skills are just straight up fire

mingi knocks his head back as he lets out a hearty belly laugh and if you squint hard enough, you can spot the pink dusting his cheeks. “ah, you flatter me too much, ma’am!.... please tell us more about how cute we look together! :-D”

… he ended up lugging an abnormally large sack of corn all the way home

“people probably think we look like a cute couple all the time, huh?” mingi grins to himself during dinner, eliciting a glare from you as you take another hesitant bite of the… weirdly edible grilled corn salad

your bowls of corn soup and corn rice bowl (don’t ask) along with a cup of sweetened corn for dessert remains untouched while mingi scarfs down his own like a mad man

you don’t even want to know how he’s been surviving on his own

“remind me to never let you grocery shop again,” you grumble, stabbing your fork into the bowl of corn salad as mingi stares at you, finding your anger cute somehow

huh… that’s weird

why does he think your furrowed brows and the aggressive chewing behind your pouty lips are the cutest things ever right now?

uh oh

your heart practically leaped out of your chest as you yelp in surprise when mingi suddenly stands up from the dining chair and sprints to his room without a word

???

you resume back to eating your food

meanwhile, mingi grabs his laptop and looks up a love meter website to calculate love percentage while trying to calm down his erratic heart rate

he quickly types in his and your names into the website and crosses his fingers with his eyes shut as he waits for the results

ding!

he opens his eyes and excitedly reads the words on the screen

90%! Love is in the air!

:-D <3 !!!

“mingi… why are you sitting on my lap.”

“i think i’m in love with you.”

jung wooyoung

“i’m feeling lonely ♫ oh i wish i’d find a lover that could hold me ♫ now i’m crying in my room ♫ so skeptical of love ♫ but still i want it more, more, mOre ♫ i give a second chance to cUPID–”

“sing that song one more time and i will shoot you with an actual arrow.”

“hmph, meanie :-(“

usually, wooyoung would sing along to that stupidly addicting cupid song you always sing whenever you’re with him 

but right now, he’s a man on a mission !! and he’s very serious about it

“i need absolute silence,” he mutters quietly, his eyes zeroing at the very serious task in hand with his brows furrowed in concentration

“you’re being dramatic.”

his head snaps up to look at you with a glare. “excuSe me? i’m sorry that i’m the only one who obviously has a passion for art here!!”

and by art, he means frosting heart-shaped sugar cookies

this is like, one of the first few human activities he’s doing !! so he wants to actually be good at this !! (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

he doesn’t know why but he really wants to make you proud :-(

you stifle a giggle when you see his hands practically tremble as he continues to squeeze out the pastel pink frosting from the piping bag onto the heart-shaped cookies

how cute

you walk over to him and gently wrap your hand around his that’s currently holding the piping bag with a death grip, making him let out a small yelp in surprise

“you need to relax,” you softly chide, helping him loosen up his grip to gently guide him into pressing the piping bag properly

meanwhile, wooyoung’s trying to refrain himself from jumping out of your apartment window and flying to mount olympus because he can feel your breath on his neck and his heart is beating a little too fast and omg you’re so close to him &:&;;’js!

honestly, this isn’t the first time wooyoung’s felt this way towards you

it’s just,, he just feels so carefree and himself whenever he’s with you 

and also because he thinks you’re the best human ever

and that you have the most beautiful smile

and that if he tries to personify love, the first thing that’d pop up in his head would be an image of you with crinkled eyes and a smile, your twinkly laughter ringing in his ears

but he’d rather let zeus zap him on the butt with a thunderbolt than admit that

“see!” you let go of his hand to excitedly gesture towards the pink cookie you helped him with, “you can do it if you let yourself have fun a little ! this one actually looks pretty decent :-D”

he already misses the warmth of your hand

“are you saying the ones i did before look bad?” he raises a brow, and your eyes nervously flicker to the tray of heart-shaped cookies that looks like it’s been frosted by a kindergartner

you start sweating

“nO of course not aha!!!! haha!!!!” he narrows his eyes at you. “okay not even gonna lie but, they do look kinda bad I’M SORRY”

he huffs, offended. “it's aBstract!”

“it’s lopsided.”

gasp D-:

you laugh when he aggressively rips off his apron before sulking, “i hate baking.”

but he knows that he’d do anything to become human; to leave his cupid errands just so he could be a regular boy who dreams of opening a bakery down the street

and in this alternate universe he’s envisioned, he’d actually manage to do it and that’s where he would first meet you

with his hands coated with flour and him sporting a messy apron, a boyish grin on his lips as he tells you that the small bag of pastry in your hands is on the house and he’d watch as your cheeks endearingly heat up

and then this alternate universe wooyoung would lean against his sleek car as he waits for you outside your apartment for a set date to an amusement park, where he’d win a giant teddy bear for you from one of those rigged game stalls

and he would try his best to make you the happiest you can be every single day

but in this life, he can only distract himself for so long from your fate that's set in stone by the red string intertwined on your pinky finger that stretches out long and far outside your apartment door— a painful reminder of the first thing his mother’s ever told him about love,

that it is never fair.

(he looks at his own gray string looped around his pinky with its short length frayed around the edges before glancing over to you who’s packing the cookies in a tupperware for him to bring while he does his cupid errands, and he knows he doesn’t regret falling for you even though he knows how it’ll end.)

choi jongho

“what do you mean you can’t go????”

jongho may or may not have tears in his eyes right now

“look, man. i really am sorry, i know we planned this weeks ago but it’s an emergency,” mingi sighs from the other line of the call, sounding genuinely regretful. “i really can’t go.”

“the new jujutsu kaisen movie drop isn’t an emergency, hyung.”

“it is !!!!!” mingi exclaims, and jongho wonders whether he’s actually a year older than him. “and i have to be one of the first people who watches it so i’m not exchanging my movie ticket for anything else.”

wow

this hurts even more than the top 10 anime betrayals :-( 

“you know what? you should go do it with yn instead. you two look cute together.”

record scratch

jongho almost drops his phone placed on his ear as he feels his cheeks flush a bright beet red. “whAt !!” he squeaks.

“‘kay! i’ll talk to you soon !!!! have fun on the date hehe :-D” beep.

see… the thing is…

jongho really looks up to mingi

he’s his favorite frat brother !!!!!

and so, he finds himself sitting on the couch of your apartment right after the call, obediently following his hyung’s suggestion

curse his soft, compliant heart

“choi jongho, are you asking me out on a date?”

“-!” jongho chokes on his saliva, sputtering out unpleasant noises before bringing his fist to his chest, “n-not a date!” he manages to choke out and you grin cheekily at him. “it’s just a paint & wine class that i was supposed to go with mingi hyung but he ended up bailing, a-and it’s non-refundable and i’ve already paid in full so i’m basically forced to take you instead–”

“yeah yeah,” you dismissively wave a hand at him, already sprinting to your bedroom to get ready. “whatever. i guess i’ll agree to go on a date with you.”

“IT’S NOT A DATE!”

jongho doesn’t know when it all started

after his frat party, you two somehow always meet each other in every party he goes to and you’d both hangout in the corner of the room together, enjoying each other’s company and leaving together when the bass of the loud music finally deafens your ears

and soon enough, you have his number and he has yours, and the party hangouts turn into lunch hangouts that happens almost every day (he looks forward to it and will sulk when he doesn’t meet you at least once a day)

you also like to give him free iced americano and savory pastries from the cafe you work at !! :-D

safe to say, jongho likes you

uH, as a friend !!! of course

yeah

just as a friend

mhm

“psssst, jongho,” you whisper from across the table, stifling a giggle as you eye the other people attending the paint & wine class. “i think you need new prescription glasses.”

“if you ever mention this to wooyoung hyung, i’ll revoke our friendship,” he grits out before chugging his glass of red wine, the tip of his ears flushed red

turns out, jongho had accidentally booked two spots for a paint & wine class reserved for the elderly (which, jongho thinks, is a stupid idea because why would they let old people have a night of free-flow wine????)

the painting instructor actually felt so bad for him that they allowed you two to join the class anyways

so here you are, sitting in the two seat table smackdab in the middle of the room with everyone’s eyes on you

it also doesn’t help that you two decided to dress super fancy as a joke for the night, with jongho wearing a crisp dark gray suit over a white button up that’s barely buttoned and you with a white floor-length evening dress under the apron they gave you

it looks like you both just ditched a wedding or something

which is precisely the look you two are going for !!! :-D 

and honestly, his hyungs can tease him all they want for all the mini adventures he does with you but he’s truly the happiest when he’s with you (he will never say this to your face)

“look at what i painted!”

jongho looks up from his canvas to see you pursing your lips in concentration over yours, your hand tightly gripping one of the paintbrushes as you finish up some small details before turning the easel to proudly present the A4 canvas to him. “tadaa!”

the reference for today’s class is an acrylic portrait of a brown kitten and jongho personally thinks he nailed his own rendition of the painting projected on the projection screen in front of the room so he’s really excited to see yours!!!

uhm

“...........yn, that’s not the painting we’re doing today.”

you nod, “i know.”

on your canvas, you’ve painted what looks like a hut with three beds all in different sizes, a dining table with three different sized bowls of porridge, and a family of brown bears with a little blonde boy—

"did you seriously paint me as goldilocks?”

you grin cutely at him, “i did!” you point at goldilocks-jongho on your painting, “you’re with your bear family now! isn’t it cute? :3”

(jongho’s trying his best to not bash his head through the canvas because !!!! nu uh nope nO, he definitely does not like you !!! not at all !!!! it’s just the wine doing things to his brain—)

“and i also painted the bears’ bed sheets purple because it’s your favorite color! and— oh shit.”

a loud clink echoes throughout the room, making everyone's heads (yes, the paint instructor as well) turn to look at your table

…………………

you accidentally plunged your paintbrush in your wine glass instead of the plastic cup of water beside it

both of your eyes widen at the sight of the purple paint staining the red liquid in the expensive glass

and honestly, you can probably just ask for a new glass of wine and apologize for this tiny mistake and it’ll be like nothing ever happened (except for the fact that you'll be embarrassed for the rest of the night)

but where’s the fun in that?

you exchange glances before jongho abruptly stands up from his chair, grab both of your canvases in one hand, and interlaces the other with yours as you two run out of the room, both of your laughters ringing throughout the hallway

“that’s so embarrassing!” you yelp, slamming jongho’s car door behind you before he turns on the engine, quickly backing up from the parking lot to drive away from the building. you groan as you lean back on the passenger seat, “please don’t ever take me to another paint & wine class again.”

jongho can’t help but chuckle at your flustered expression as he carefully place the canvases on the backseat without his eyes leaving the road, “i actually think that was pretty fun.”

“should we get dinner?”

“sure, i know a place. we could pretend we’re having our first anniversary so that they’d give us free chocolate lava cake.”

“are you just using this chance to pretend to be my boyfriend again?” you tease, trying to hide the smile on your face

“why are you so shy about it? we literally made out once–”

“I TOLD YOU TO NEVER BRING THAT UP AGAIN!!!!”

taglist. @ad0rechuu @diorwoo @jaehunnyy

[maerinhearts]

Anything For You

Your boyfriend gets some wild advice from his closest friend and decides to bring it to fruition. Only it's incredibly embarrassing and not at all what you're into... Or so you thought...

Warnings: dom!bokuto, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, creampie, fem!bodied reader

Minors DNI.

All characters are 18+.

2100+ words.

Smut is below the cut as always.

A/N: I've never written for Bokuto before, so I'm a little nervous putting this out there. Please let me know if y'all like it!

 “I want to watch.”

Your hands stop their ministrations in his hair, eyes peeling away from the movie you were watching together to glance down at the man between your legs, his eyes wide and curious. You must have had a funny look on your face at his statement because he turns around, kneeling before you and sliding his hands up your outer thighs, resting his cheek against your right knee.

“Watch me what?” you ask, genuinely confused and curious as to what the actual hell he was asking for. Watch you cook? He did that already. And you were already watching a movie together. What could he possibly want?

He inhales deeply, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I want to watch you,” he answers.

You feel yourself getting annoyed with how vague he is being. You narrow your eyes at him. “Why are you being so weird about telling me the answer? Just tell me what you want to watch me do.”

He sits back on his knees, hands leaving your body briefly before he’s grabbing your knees and shoving your legs apart. You yelp in surprise, heat rushing primarily to your core at his roughness, but a touch of pink dusts your cheeks.

“I want to watch you touch yourself,” he says softly. He peeks up at you through his eyelashes. “Can I?”

You stare at him blankly, cogs turning rapidly in your mind. Watch you? Touch? Yourself? He… wants that? But why? Where is this even coming from? Now that you think about it, him and Kuroo had gone to dinner the other night to catch up while they had the time. Were they talking about their girlfriends? Did this come up during dinner? Only Kuroo would tell your boyfriend how hot something like this was. And he would soak up every single word that bastard spewed at him. Kuroo and his girlfriend were notoriously kinky. You knew this because his girlfriend was a close friend of yours and you heard all about it every time the two of you got together.

Anyway, there was no possible way you were going to let him watch you touch yourself. No way in hell. How embarrassing…

Is what you thought…

So why…

Why are you sitting against the arm of the couch with your legs spread wide, your bare pussy on display for him? He sits across the couch from you, leaning back against his own armrest as he watches your fingers dance across your clit.

“Slowly, Y/N,” he says softly.

You lean your head back to stare at the ceiling, tears fogging your vision. You slow your fingers to a snail pace, groaning in frustration as your body starts to calm down from a steady build up. This bastard… He isn’t even touching himself! Even though he is clearly hard as a rock. You lift your head back up to glare at him, fingers stopping altogether.

“Don’t stop,” he snaps, making direct eye contact.

You bite your lips, a tear making its way down your face as your fingers begin circling your clit again. You moan as you make eye contact with him, fingers dipping down to collect the essence that was leaking out and rubbing it back into your swollen clit.

“One finger,” he says now. “Put one finger inside of you.”

You listen so well, he thinks, as he watches you slowly slide your middle finger into your hole. You whimper as your finger disappears completely inside you and your head falls back. He wants to fuck you so bad right now, but watching you obey his every command while you touch yourself is so hot, he wants to drag this out for as long as possible.

You stay still, walls fluttering around your finger as you try to dial your orgasm back.

“If you come without permission, don’t expect me to fuck you,” he had said when you started.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you attempt to calm yourself.

“Finger yourself,” he instructs you. His voice is firm.

You meet his gaze again, eyes pleading to just either let you come or to come fuck you already. Nevertheless, you slowly begin thrusting your finger into your pussy, moaning freely now as you feel your finger enter and leave your body. Every time you pull your finger out, you can feel your walls suck it right back in. As you pick up your pace, you begin to hear just how wet you are.

“Ko, please,” you beg, voice breathless.

“Slow down,” he says simply.

You whine as you still your finger inside of you, orgasm floating away from your grasp once again. You nearly cry as your body starts shaking.

“Please,” you beg again. “Ko, please come fuck me.” Your face is covered in your tears with more threatening to spill out.

He wishes he could take a picture of you just like this. Your finger buried knuckle deep inside your own pussy, your face wet with tears, it’s so sexy.

He smirks at you. “Add another finger,” he says, ignoring your pleas.

You nearly begin sobbing as you pull your finger out and shove your ring finger back in with it. Your brain is pure mush as you begin fucking yourself with two fingers now. You can’t think straight as squelching noises fill your ears. It feels so good, body shaking as your orgasm begins building up once again. You cry out, head falling back once again.

“Please, let me come,” you try again, words barely leaving your lips.

“No,” he replies sternly and like the good girl he knows you are, you pull your fingers free from your sex to stop yourself from coming.

You ball your hands up into fists, chest heaving as your orgasm gets further and further from your grasp.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you softly.

You lift your head up, nearly jumping out of your skin when you see how close he is to you. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears, breathing so heavy, that you didn’t hear him move closer to you.

He cups your face in his hands, thumb pulling at your chin to open your mouth as he leans in to devour you. His tongue dives quickly into your mouth, stroking against your own. You sob into him, fingers tangling into his hair to hold him against you. Not that it did any good, the beefy asshole. He pulls away from you easily.

“Fuck me, please,” you beg as he looms over you. Without thinking, you shove your hand into the waistband of his sweats, fingers wrapping firmly around his cock. He stiffens above you. “Kotaro, I’m begging you, please. Fuck me.”

He presses his forehead into yours as you slowly stroke his cock. “How bad do you want it?” he asks. He was really dragging this out.

“So bad,” you tell him. Your mouth was moving of its own accord. You were saying anything just to get his dick inside you. “Please.”

He pulls away to yank his shirt off and pull his dick out. He doesn’t even bother taking off his pants.

“Since my baby has been so good, I better give her what she wants,” he says simply before he fully sheathes himself inside you.

You gasp out in surprise as an orgasm rakes through your body just from him entering you. You cry out, hands wrapping around his wrists as more tears fall from your eyes. He grunts from above you, closing his eyes as he feels your pussy convulse around him.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He stays still until he’s sure you’re done coming, not wanting to overstimulate you so early. As you calm down, the smirk returns to his face and you know the teasing is about to come full force. You cover your face with your hands. “All that just from me shoving my dick into you? What do you have to say for yourself, angel?”

He grabs you by your waist and pulls your body down so your back is flush with the couch cushions. He pries your hands away from your face and pins them to the couch.

“Hmm?” he hums, kissing the underside of your jaw.

You don’t answer, opting to turn your face away from his gaze. In response, he pulls all the way out and slams himself back into you. You cry out as the head of his cock grazes your cervix.

“Too deep,” you gasp out.

“Answer me,” he demands as he begins thrusting his cock into you.

You moan out as he thrusts repeatedly into the spot that has you seeing stars, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the immense pleasure he was giving you. You aren’t sure what kind of answer he is looking for and you aren’t sure how you should even answer his question. Especially when he is fucking you so relentlessly like this.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, Y/N,” he groans. “Feels so good.”

You moan out in response, pussy involuntarily clenching around him at his words and he sucks in a breath at the feeling.

His hands find their way underneath your knees, pressing them into your chest. In this position, he reaches a new depth inside of you and you throw your head back in pleasure, mouth wide open in a silent scream as he continues to relentlessly fuck you.

“You take me so damn well,” he praises. “Your pussy keeps sucking me right back in.”

His thrusts turn sloppy, moans picking up as his orgasm quickly approaches.

“Look at you,” he grounds out. “So fucking sexy.”

“Come,” you squeak out in warning, hands pushing at his shoulders as pleasure overwhelms you.

“You gonna come again?” he asks. “Come for me. Open your eyes and look at me, I want to watch you come.”

You pry your eyes open to find his heated gaze. As your eyes meet, your orgasm washes over you again, body shaking as he continues to fuck you. His moans pick up before he follows with his own orgasm, spilling his seed right into you.

You both try to catch your breaths as he lets go of your legs. Your body feels like jell-o, you’re not even sure how you’re going to move from this very couch.

Kotaro leans down to kiss your forehead before pulling away from your body. You feel his come start to slip out of you and you hurriedly cover yourself with your hands to try to catch it before it hits your couch. That would be a hard stain to remove, and an embarrassing one for someone to see.

He comes back with a warm cloth and gently moves your hands out of the way to clean you up. You smile tiredly as he takes care of you, gently wiping your sex and taking the utmost care to thoroughly clean you.

Then he’s hoisting you up into his arms and carrying you to bed. He disappears to dispose of the rag before silently climbing in beside you and pulling you to his chest.

You sigh contentedly before he breaks the silence. “We should do that again,” he comments.

“What?!” you exclaim, sitting up to look at him. “Did you like it that much?! It was so embarrassing!”

He grins at you. “You seemed to be into it,” he says as he brushes your hair out of your face. “Am I wrong?”

You feel your face heat up and avert your gaze.

“That damn Kuroo,” you mutter as you lay back down and turn away from him.

“What about him?” Kotaro asks as his arms snake around your body.

You glare at the wall. “I know he told you about doing that with his girlfriend and that’s what gave you the idea.”

He’s silent behind you.

“Look at you, can’t even deny it,” you mumble.

“Well, he was damn right about it being the sexiest thing ever,” he admits with a shrug.

“How was that even remotely sexy?!”

He hums from behind you, lips pressing into the back of your neck. “You were so wet, I could hear it just from your fingers,” he murmurs into your ear. “And the look on your face? The way your eyes begged me to just fuck you, your little eyebrows furrowing in pleasure. Your body tense as you waited for my next command.” His hands begin fondling your breasts, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. You begin panting. “The way your pussy glistened in the light. Fuck.” He presses his hips firmly into you and you can feel he’s hard again. “It was so hard not to touch myself.”

Your brain is reduced to mush once again, face hot as you ask him to fuck you again. He chuckles from behind you as he pulls himself from his sweats and enters you from behind in one thrust.

“Anything for you.”

[gurofushi]

sex education

꣑୧ marius von hagen x fem! reader x vyn richter

summary; marius von hagen's private tutor, vyn richter, doesn't quite approve of how your boyfriend recklessly toys with your body. luckily, mr. vin has a master's degree in sex education and he's more than willing to share a thing or two for today's lesson.

warnings; nsfw, cuckolding (i guess?? marius is ur bf but vyn's doing most of the work)

a/n; i've had this in my drafts for probably like a year now?? 😭 i don't play tot anymore i apologize if i depicted any elements included in this imagine incorrectly!

(apologies for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language^^)

“no, that's not quite right, you're not supposed to pet it like that. don't tell me that's how you treat actual cats?”

vyn sighs, watching as marius toy with your clit, moving his thumb in quick and tight circles. groaning in frustration, he stops and pulls his hand away from your wet cunt.

“shut up, vyn. if you're so good at making girls cum, then prove it.” he hisses, completely ignoring your whines of displeasure when he diverted his attention away from you.

you silently huff as you watch them bicker on and on about how bad of a job marius is doing– or about how vyn is acting like he ‘enjoys having a stick up his ass’ when he ‘brags about how great he is at making girls cum on his ugly shoes.’

if it wasn't for the way your own juices dripped onto the sheets from your aching pussy, you'd already be laughing your heart out at your boyfriend's inappropriate remarks.

with a small smile adorning his lips, vyn takes off his glasses and makes his way towards the bed where you and marius laid on.

“if you'll have me.”

marius grumbles and moved to sit beside you– not without rolling his eyes, of course. taking a hold of your hand, he squeezes it tightly and pecks your forehead. the gesture made your heart flutter.

he was obviously jealous and didn't like the idea of having to share you. but he brushed off his own thoughts away, taking advantage of the opportunity to properly learn how to please you.

you didn't have a problem with the way marius made love to you, but it was endearing to see how willing he was to bring you into more pleasure.

smiling at your sweet exchange, vyn averts his gaze back onto you. he settles on the spot between your legs and starts to caress your thighs gently, gliding his hands up and down your sides before finally taking your clit between his thumb and pointer finger.

you could immediately tell the difference between the way the two men treated you. when it comes to sex, marius' always moves with a sense of urgency and desire. he absolutely adores you and your body, so when you two got in the mood, he'd always run his hands all over your body. relishing in the way your soft skin reacted to his touches, he focuses on giving you as much simulation as he can offer, just so he can have you begging him to stop while his fingers abuses your insides relentlessly.

meanwhile, vyn likes to take his time. he takes pride in being able to have his significant other writhing under him, pleading for him to go faster. he's like a snail, going at a frustratingly slow pace while leaving tracks of his saliva on their body. he knows what he's doing, of course. he takes pleasure in watching his partner bounce on his cock as they plead for release, he always stays still until he sees those pretty tears slide down their cheeks, before immediately gripping onto their hips and mercilessly thrusting up into them.

you didn't realize it at the time, but maybe you really did enjoy the change of pace. vyn's handwork was thorough but efficient, and before you knew it, you had your hips lifting off the bed as the sweet feeling of release finally buzzes through your whole body.

“see, that wasn't so hard was it?” vyn chuckled in amusement, though it wasn't clear if he was talking to you for finally cumming or to marius for finally making me cum.

marius huffs, rolling his eyes whilst brushing his fingers through your hair. “whatever, richter. lesson's over.”

vyn laughs at your boyfriend's angry tone, before promptly getting up to gather his belongings.

“i hope you've learned something, von hagen. i'll see you during our next lesson.” he said as he approaches us for the last time, giving your sensitive cunt a small pat before he leaves the room altogether– making marius even more upset at the way you responded to the gesture with a whimper.

silence overcomes the room for a brief moment, nothing but your laboured breathing filling the hot atmosphere of the painter's room. feeling exposed as the cold gust of wind from the air conditioner hits your inner thighs, you close your legs, quietly lifting your head up to marius to see how he's holding up.

“. . . fuck that guy. open your legs again, i can make you cum in whatever way i want.”

[aaron-m-geist-ff]

F = Favorite position (alphabet game)

It’s actually quite difficult for Mahito to pick a favorite. He has so much fun experimenting and trying different things with you. But, if he had to choose, it would likely be riding.

He loves the sight of your female human body hovering over his powerful curse form. The sinful way that your pussy clenches down on his aching erection. Your breasts jiggling slightly with every hesitant thrust that you give. He doesn’t even care about the size of your breasts, honestly. His hands will be on them, big or small.

If he gets too frustrated then he will simply thrust into you from below, his eyes watching your reactions intently because it turns him on so so much.

There is also a psychological aspect to this position. Mahito is so used to abusing your cute pussy and simply thrusting as much as he likes. However, when you get on top, he is able to clearly see just how weak your human body is.

His hands grip your hips as he remains still, paying close attention to the way that your thighs shake and tremble every time you try to move up and down. He can tell that you get tired easily and it fascinates him because he doesn’t experience that kind of fatigue as a powerful cursed spirit.

He would never be able to come from your pathetic snail pace, but he enjoys the show nonetheless.

Having you ride him is the only time that Mahito is reminded of the strength imbalance. He enjoys watching as you grow tired and even counting in his head to see how long you can manage to ride him before you slump against his chest. He wants to test your limits before he pounds you into the mattress. It arouses him so much to think of how much weaker you are compared to him.

Read more Mahito here

[j0cto]

Evil Sanji AU

I'll preface this by saying, it's my first time ever actually writing some sort of fanfiction. This will also have some Wano arc spoilers! But nothing too big I don't think.. I wanted to make a comic based on this idea but I'm not skilled enough to do it lolol

Well then, let's get in to it!

After the final battles of Wano were finished and the days of celebration had died down, Sanji was still nowhere to be found. The crew tried their best to find him, or even his body, even though a couple blockheads refused to believe they’d find the latter. 

Zoro walked through the burnt remains of Onigashima. It was hard to get through it due to the damage. He looked everywhere for any signs of the blond man, even a strand of hair would help. Zoro was getting frustrated, lifting every piece of rubble out of his way to find something.  

“Cook!” he shouted. “Too embarrassed to show your face?” Zoro tried what he knew best, to provoke his rival. To get a nasty comment back and start bickering with him again. No matter how much he hated his swirly brow and weirdly handsome face, Zoro still longed to see it again. Walking through the now very familiar area, checking every room and behind every corner in case he missed something last time. Or the time before that, or before that. At this point Zoro wasn’t sure how many times he’d walked through the entirety of Onigashima, hoping to find anything he’d missed last time. But never finding anything. The words Sanji told him over the transponder snail echoing through his head the whole time. It had been the last time they spoke, and their conversation made Zoro even more worried of what he might find. 

“You gotta be here somewhere.” Zoro muttered to himself, feeling more and more desperate with every step. “Sanji!” He shouted out. This might’ve been the first time ever he’d said the cook’s name, he thought to himself. Suddenly, a very familiar voice responded. “He’s not here anymore.” Zoro stopped in his steps, staring in the direction he’d heard the voice come from. Slowly, a tall figure walks towards him. Zoro waited for the figure to come closer. He knew for sure who it was, but something was wrong. The tone of his voice wasn’t right, the pace at which he was walking had a strange pattern to it and the words that came out of his mouth? It couldn’t be right. The figure finally comes close enough for Zoro to properly see him. He was right. Something is wrong.  

“San..ji...” Zoro managed to breathe out. Furrowing his curly brow the figure responded, “I just told you, he isn’t here.” Zoro didn’t say anything, he continued to stare at the man in disbelief. After days of searching, he’d finally found him. After listening to the others telling him to stop searching even just this morning, he’d finally be able to prove them wrong. But still, something wasn’t right. Even in the darkness he could see something was off. The figure calmly pulled out a cigarette and a lighter to light it up. During that moment, you could see it. His hair was completely black, and his eyebrow was all wrong. Zoro would know, he’s the most familiar with it. Zoro felt his heart sink. He straightened up to be at eye level with the formerly blond man.  

Zoro remembered the promise he made with Sanji. The bit of happiness of finally finding the man after days of nonstop search, washed away immediately. He reached for his bandana wrapped around his left arm and put it on. The black-haired man watched his every move while smoking his cigarette. “I won’t hesitate to kill you, like my former self would’ve.” the man said as he dropped his half-smoked cigarette. “I know.” Zoro responded as he pulled out his swords, placing one in his mouth.  

______________________________________________________________

Sanji’s final kick slammed Zoro to the ground, he felt all his remaining energy creep out of his body. He didn’t have enough strength to lift a single finger, let alone breathe properly. Sanji’s blue flames disappeared as he landed next to Zoro. Slightly panting, he stared down at the beaten man locking eyes with him. He stepped over Zoro’s body, so he was standing over him. Lighting yet another cigarette, his voice low he spoke “I told you. I’m not the man you once knew, and he’s not coming back.” Getting no response from the bleeding man, he continued. “You were the only one who could've beaten me y’know. The captain won't do it.” Sanji got down on one knee and blew smoke in Zoro’s face, making the man cough. “I’ll see you in Hell, pirate hunter.” Watching the man’s eyes darken as he breathed his last, Sanji felt something tighten in his chest. He got up and clicked his tongue at himself.  

“Luffy wait up!” Usopp shouted running behind Luffy. Apparently, he had seen something go down in Onigashima. Running as quickly as he could through the rubble and destroyed floors, Luffy could almost smell some cigarette smoke in the air. Heart beating faster with every step, he found his way through the obstacles to a larger area. Trying to catch his breath, he looked around the room, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness. Then something flickered in the distance. Just as Usopp caught up with Luffy, he started running again. “Oh c'mon, can’t you stop for just a moment?” Usopp watched Luffy stop in the middle of the large area. He jogged up to Luffy to see what he had found. Both of them froze, looking at the floor. All that was left behind of the captain’s wings’ final battle, were the broken swords of Zoro and a fresh cigarette stump. Luffy crouched down and picked up the hilt of Wado Ichimonji with only a little bit of the steel left on it. Usopp fell to his knees next to him, still trying to grasp the situation. He looked over to Luffy, only to see a blank expression on his face. In this moment, there was nothing he could’ve said, so he stayed silent, letting the reality of what might’ve happened slowly sink in. 

[film-in-my-soul]

Sterek ▪︎ Pacific Rim AU ▪︎ "You and I are drift-compatible."

Stiles is floating on air; his blood is pumping through his veins like he's got music running alongside it, but all the same, he's scowling, stalking after Derek Hale through the Shatterdome halls.

"Would you slow the fuck down?" Stiles calls after him, rubbing his already sore elbow as he ducks around two scientists who'd already thrown themselves to the walls when Derek stomped between them, shoulders hunched all the way to his ears, looking infuriatingly attractive in his tanktop.

Derek, though Stiles hadn't expected any differently, doesn't respond. He only picks up his pace but thankfully seems reluctant to actually run away from Stiles. Stiles uses that to his advantage; he doesn't have enough shame left in his body not to jog to catch up. When he gets his hand around Derek's wrist to stop him, the other man yanks himself away but, apparently realizing that Stiles isn't going to stop, pivots and gets right into his space, his face a thunderstorm of agitation.

As he does with most things, Stiles recognizes that pushing is probably not the brightest idea and does it anyway.

"You are an I drift-compatible." Stiles starts, proud of how he doesn't shrink away when, magically, Derek's expression only darkens, twisting into a grimace. "So what the fuck is your problem?"

At first, Stiles doesn't think Derek will answer, especially not when he seems to realize just how close they are and puts a good foot of additional space between them. But, to Stiles's surprise, he does, voice low with frustrated resignation.

"It doesn't matter. Drift-compatible or not, it won't work." He sounds so sure, and more than that, he sounds like he kind of hates it. Stiles is banking on the hate being for whatever isn't working and not for the fact that they'd be so fucking good together. He inches closer, trying to make himself softer at the edges- open. Tentatively, he reaches to touch Derek's arm again, asking permission with the snail's pace he moves.

"You don't know that." Stiles's fingertips brush against Derek's skin. He feels the other man jolt, watching Derek's eyebrows come together in an intense furrow, some of the anger draining off of him but none of the tension.

He meets Stiles's eyes and backs away, shaking his head.

"I do." Derek's mouth flattens into a hard line. "I don't want you in my head."

When Derek walks away for a second time, Stiles doesn't follow. There is a thickness in the back of his throat, and his eyes sting for reasons he doesn't want to examine. Because when Derek had said, 'I don't want you in my head.' It had sounded, to Stiles, a lot closer to 'I don't want you to see me and be disappointed.'

a ship, trope, & a sentence

[valhallavalkyrie9]

Crochet community, please answer a question for me.... how did ya'll learn when all the tutorials I've found are dogshit. Like no hate to these people, I dont think they realize where they're lacking in their videos but damn, they suck pretty bad a lot of the time.

Like seriously, so many people will title things as "easy" or "beginner" but don't explain terminology at all. Or they go fast... all the time. Like if I'm a beginner I need snails pace to actually be able to see what's going on so I can understand exactly what I'm doing. Just going slow compared to what you're used to is not enough, it needs to be EXTREMELY slow.

.......This frustration may have to do with me following my first pattern and immediately needing to learn to treble crochet into a magic circle... which I can't because nobody seems to show clear enough how to do that.

Like where do I hold the circle the keep its shape EXACTLY. Show me specifically what threads and why. How do you get that first chain after the circle done so easily? And then, how do I actually treble into the damn circle?

Im totally not frustrated crying rn after trying over and over and over and over and.....

[chaikajpeg]

I thought I grew out of my I-need-to-apologise-for-posting-so-rarely emo phase, but it seems I didn't, so here I am and my excuses!

As a bonus, if you scroll below, you'll get to hear me venting about my artistic skills and laziness! (the conclusion is positive though)

Bonus vent!

I've been regularly drawing and posting my works on the internet since 2015, and all this time I've only been messing around, desperately avoiding actually studying what I'm drawing, which, uh, led to lots of complexes I have today! (art-wise). It's really hard to force myself to learn, partly because feeling how little I actually know and can draw is frustrating as hell. I keep thinking about how much better I would've been had I started studying earlier, and how far behind I am other people who weren't as lazy as me, etc etc... On top of that, self-studying requires time-management skills and self-control, which I don't have, so I'm really moving at a snail's pace here.

Don't get the wrong impression btw, even though I'm being so critical of myself, I'm still kinda trying to show myself in a better light, meaning I probably do even less than you think. :DD And, as much as I don't want to admit it, I'm trying to manipulate you into giving me compliments and encouragement (...which all artists do, I think? My envy for other artists alienated me from the art community so I don't know what's normal anymore lol)

As a conclusion for this post, I tried to write some encouraging advice for people who feel a similar way, but it ended up being soaked in my own inferiority complex, so the only advice I can give you is: don't listen to me. And be mindful when you listen to other sad artists. But do listen to the kind art teachers on youtube who want you to enjoy every second you spend drawing, who want you to take your time, to see art as your freedom and to let it make you a happy person

[lnkedmyheart]

Me losing interest in bsd and skk because the anime isnt worth watching given that it fucks over any actual meaningful development/storyline and the manga arc is slow as fuck and is moving at the pace of a dead decomposing snail but mostly because I have so much pent up frustration and I cant actually vent about it to anyone.

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn ~ Thank you for being a lighthouse in our wilderness! I write fiction and signed with my literary agent almost fifteen months ago. She has 13 clients and a young child. That said, she takes *months* between emails. Nudges don’t seem to make a difference. (We’ve done a few revisions; I’m very happy with them). However, I cannot understand the snail’s pace of both her working speed and correspondence, and I’m concerned about how she’ll deal with my future publisher if she’s soooo slloowww to respond to things. Or is this the general pace of the industry in general? Are editors the same? Are YOU the same with your clients?

It's generally a very slow industry. Yes, many editors/publishers are the same way. I might hear "I love this, and I want to make an offer" -- but then weeks or months pass before that offer actually comes. I might GET an offer, and then weeks or months pass before that negotiation is concluded and the offer actually closes. I might close a deal and then months and more months pass before a contract comes. Etc, etc. You get the picture.

SOMETIMES any or all of this will be quicker -- I've certainly also gotten offers in a day, resolved negotiations in a week, and gotten the contract swiftly -- but swiftness is sadly not the norm, and I really don't blink when it takes weeks or months (sometimes many, many months) to resolve something. Anything. Things that seem easy. Yes, it's frustrating. No, there's virtually nothing I can do to really speed things up that don't want to be sped up.

Basically, in the world of publishing, ASAP often means "later this week at best", "tomorrow" means "next week-ish" -- "this week or next" means "this month or next", "in a few weeks" means "in a few months", "in a few months" means "six months from now", "around Spring " means "end of summer probably" -- "around Fall" means "in the new year" -- ETC.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm guilty of this too -- but I am, sometimes, for sure. Particularly if what needs doing is something that involves other people - like, I'm sharing such-and-such with somebody else, or I'm trying to get an answer out of so-and-so, or whatever - a lot of times I simply DO NOT have answers, and it takes a really long time to get them. (And editing takes me a long time, tbh!) -- But I do try to be as speedy as possible when it's a question where I DO know the answers or when something is a priority, like there is money, a pending offer, etc, involved.

ALL THAT SAID: I don't know whether your agent is being slow on ALL things, or if she's generally on-the-ball but slow on turning around edits (maybe understandable) -- or if she's not responding when she just doesn't have a response yet because of other people needing to chime in, or what, you know? You don't say if you've already been on submission or not -- submissions can be REALLY excruciatingly slow, and no news is just... no... news. You don't say if she's slow answering things that really are actually quick things that don't involve others. Soooo... I don't know if your agent's slowness with one type of correspondence means she'd also be slow with publishers (probably not, but idk!) -- or if she is "slow but in the fairly normal way that everything in publishing can be slow" or "slow because she's forgotten about you" or something else.

I DO know that if you are generally speaking happy (the edits are good, you like her, etc) -- but this lack of communication is making you quite unhappy, you need to have a conversation where you get a bead on what's happening with her, and ask for changes, or SOMETHING. Maybe "Hey, I love what we've done together with editing this ms, and I am totally aware that everything in publishing is slow as molasses, but I have to admit, my anxiety is through the roof when you don't reply to me for a long time. Can you possibly just acknowledge receipt of emails, and maybe give an ETA of when you think you'll have an answer? That would help my anxious brain immensely!" Or "I know submissions can take a lifetime, and "no news is no news" -- but my anxiety is in overdrive -- can we schedule a time to chat?" (OR SOMETHING!)

I am sure you don't want to be pushy, but if you don't ask, you don't get. You are allowed to ask for what you need. If she can't or won't try to 'meet you where you live', at least, maybe it's time to figure out whether the good parts of this relationship outweigh the bad parts, what you can live with and what you can't, and go from there.

[brawlcloud]

EXTREMELY frustrating how people have started to see the job of the NHS as restricting access to care - that the long waiting times and grudging attitude towards prescription aren't a glaring failure of a negligent government but instead a necessary check on those silly young people who think they need help with ADHD or transitioning, to the point where private clinics that actually function at more than a snails pace are seen as reckless!

[keitheaverage]

sorry, you guys mind if I vent a little?

tbh in just the last year or so both world and life events have scrambled my brain so thoroughly I feel a bit like I'm truly losing it. Most good days I've had since the year started have been upended by one thing or another. My favorite neighborhood porch cat was taken by our neighbors when they moved. Something's wrong with our pipes and now I have to take a shower at my neighbor's house because water isn't coming out of any of our faucets and nothing can be done about it until the weekend at least. There's a literal gnocide going on continents away but the actual TV news sources we rely on are being so passive and dismissive about it that I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. My grandpa passed away last summer and things just haven't felt quite right since. Among other things that I don't have much control or say in.

I feel simultaneously overwhelmed and under-stimulated. I'm so behind on my artwork, something that gives me both personal joy and connection with others, but my mind's been on like three other things during this span of time and I can hardly focus on the things I actually want to do, let alone come up with something I'm proud of. I can't believe just a few years ago I was drawing and putting up new artwork like every day for almost a year. God I wish that were me now. I've slowed down to a snail's pace and I'm so frustrated by it.

Some days it feels like I'm just the comic relief character in one of God's sitcoms and he keeps putting me in situations that would maybe be funny if they were happening to someone else. Like I'm not trying to be all doom and gloom about it, for the most part things are, in fact, okay, or at least fixable, and I have to remember that before I slip into some high school-era meltdown. But man. It sure would be nice to just have like. One day where I feel accomplished and just, like. Okay. Devoid of dread. Unbothered, unencumbered. Nobody or thing comes up behind me when I'm actually feeling good and ruins it with bad news. Maybe I just need a new hobby. Or just need to stop staying up past midnight.

I'll be okay. I've just had a lot of little things going on and I feel a bit weighed down by it all. I gotta just gotta wait it out with hope that there is an end to it. That good and better days are coming. Just hope that time is sooner than later, y'know?