#aka the wandering turd?

[women-of-malevolent]

I really like this account because I’ve always thought “hey isnt malevolent kind of terrible with female characters” but never really saw anyone talking about it

💖💖 ty lmao! It was definitely making me feel crazy especially after season 4 was such a stinking turd and the Q+A (I did listen to one supplemental mp3... Just one... For the first time... Because season 4 was so bad and I wanted answers... They had none about Hattie of course LOL. Who cares about Hattie aka girl!Arthur?? Not the author or fans that's for fucking sure!)

Anyways! Thank you, I'm so glad to provide! A lot of people feel similarly and I think they usually just wander off and feel weird, but I really wanted to unpack it and I'm so happy to do it in public

[saja-star]

do you think scientifically-minded villains ever give the robins shit over the fact that a robin's scientific name is turdus

[brownstonearmy]

2019-09-13: Perfume, Piggies, and Piddles

Wednesday June 24 (Morning)

Kalani is still recuperating from their recent journey to Mechanus, but the rest of the party are in stable enough shape to go into work this morning. Along the way, a group of hunters are overheard talking about the bounty for dead gnolls being increased to 2 silver pieces per intact carcass. Once inside the office, the Dave dishes dirt on all the stuff that's been going on during the party's two week absence.

Dave and Tyrik have been working overtime to keep things afloat, and work orders have been piling up. The mayor is running several sessions of a workshop this week called "How To Not Get Kidnapped: A Presentation By Mayor Shepherd Dunwall," and participation is suggested for all municipal staffers. Since the party has already successfully escaped after being kidnapped, Dave is cool with everyone skipping out on the presentation because there are more important things to do.

Strange things happened during the full moon two nights ago. A strong beam of light broke through the clouds and centered itself on the compound where the Order of the Immaculate Shadow are sequestered. This spooked some of the citizens, and caused a dramatic uptick in reported sightings of werewolves. At three separate locations, it was reported that a werewolf-looking creature was defecating and urinating inside the city limits. Cleaning up individual poops and piddle puddles isn't usually handled by SHART, but the citizens are afraid to deal with the mess on their own for fear of catching "Werewolf Disease" (AKA lycanthropy).

Grieg grabs a shovel and a hand cart, and then the party sets out to gather some better work gloves for the occasion. They make a quick jaunt over to Oneida's, a glovemaking shop owned by (you guessed it!) Oneida Cobblepot. Lucky picks up three sets of long embroidered gloves on sale for 1gp, while Grieg gets a pair of plain gloves that come up past the elbow. Q is feeling like calling themselves "Daffodil" today, and spends a bit longer searching for the perfect gloves for today. Q/Daffodil eventually decides on some bright red work gloves with black lace trim. Q wants to accessorize with matching footwear, but Oneida only sells gloves. Oneida tells them that there is an orc named Zagga who makes quality artisanal shoes.

The party opts to proceed to the job sites to clean up the mess instead of getting matching footwear, and they strike out to the northeast portion of town near the fighters guild to assess the situation. Along the way, everyone sees several signs posted on trees and buildings. It's a lost pet poster where the owner of the perfumery, Peggy-Ann Sweetbreeze, is looking for her pig. Although they don't see any signs of the pig on this leg of the journey, the first poop site is not hard to find. There's a sizable turd on the ground next to a building, and a 10-foot chalk circle has been drawn around it to keep people from wandering into the Danger Zone. Also inside the confines of the Danger Zone is a wall covered with a particularly caustic urine splatter. Lucky takes one look at it and prestidigitates it away. Easy peasy!

Except Grieg was hoping to investigate the poop to get more clues about what they're dealing with. There are more poop sites to visit, though, and the party heads south toward the shipping and arts district.

They find the second site without much trouble, but Grieg sees the poop first and swoops in to investigate. He takes a stick and gives it a poke. His determination is that it's from some sort of mammalian carnivore, but that is about the extent of what he can tell. Lucky, on the other hand, notices some greasy-looking black hairs in the dirt. She casts Mage Hand to pick them up and get a closer look. The hairs smell foul and don't look like they belong to some sort of wolf.

Lucky takes out the letter from Half-Nut and suggests that maybe they're actually on the trail of a gnoll instead of a werewolf. The signs match up.

As they're leaving the second site, the party sees Jangles setting up some complicated looking measurement tools near a sewer manhole. Jangles is feeling particularly lady-like today and is collecting calibration data for her next project codenamed "Peppermint Breeze." Jangles asks the party if they would be willing to assist her with temporarily blocking some sewer tunnels with boards in order to pressurize an underground chamber with gas. Although wary of exactly what this experiment might entail, the party agrees to participate.

Q and Grieg clamber down through the manhole and block the tunnel's airflow. Stinky sewer gas begins building up in the chamber. Jangles gives Lucky a small silver cannister with an experimental compound to be opened once the manhole cover is in place. Lucky follows into the chamber and Jangles replaces the manhole cover. The pressurized gas is too much for Q and Grieg to hold back, and the boards fly open. Lucky's Mage Hand uncaps the cannister, which sizzles for a moment before explosively reacting with the sewer gas and blowing the manhole cover sky-high.

Dazed and deafened, the party emerges from the sewer to find an excited Jangles. The experiment was a massive success! She pays the party 100GP per person, hands over a Handy Spice Pouch, and gives Lucky a sample of the X-Ray Tincture she had commissioned Jangles to create. Jangles packs up her things and the party heads off to deal with the last known werewolf poop sighting.

The third poop is located in a densely-populated working class neighborhood in the warehouse district on the riverwalk. Crowds of people are going about their daily business, though there is a curiously empty spot that everyone seems to be avoiding. Grieg pushes his way through the crowd. "Everybody back up! I'm the Pee-Pee Poo-Poo Man!" he yells. Audible gasps erupt from the crowd. Is someone going to deal with this awkwardly-dropped turd on someone's doorstep?

Members of the crowd are afraid for the safety of the approaching party members. Grieg assures the crowd with a wave of his hand. "I'm an orc; I don't get Werewolf Sick." He makes enough space for Lucky and Q to get through. Lucky blasts the area with Prestidigitation to clean things up, and the crowd cheers.

A tearful lady emerges from the house. She had been trapped in her house for two whole days because of the Poop on the Stoop. With that contagious werewolf dropping disposed of, she is free to live her life as she intended.

By now the party is pretty convinced that the serial shitter is a gnoll, and they trek south of the river toward the perfumery to speak with Peggy-Ann. Grieg notices some relatively recent pig tracks as they cross the bridge. Time to head into the woods in search of pig and/or gnolls!

South of the perfumery and sawmill, Q hears the sound of an animal whining. Following Q's keen ears, the party comes upon a cream-colored pig foraging for food. Unbeknownst to the pig, four hyenas are sneaking up on it.

Lucky casts Minor Illusion to make the sound of a roaring dragon, which causes a tiny stampede as both the pig and the hyenas flee from the sound. Lucky makes a signal to Grieg, and he grabs her with one hand and starts sprinting toward the pigs. Q dashes after the pig to keep it safe from the hyenas.

Lucky creates another illusion, this time of a large pile of apples. Missy Piggums stops in surprise and tries to nibble unsuccessfully on the illusory apples. Grieg drops Lucky, who fishes a real apple out of her bag and offers it to the pig. Over the next several minutes, the party lures Missy Piggums back to the perfumery.

Peggy-Ann is thrilled to see her beloved Missy Piggums returned safely. Peggy-Ann is preparing for the launch of her new perfume tonight, but the event preparation hasn't been going smoothly because she's been so preoccupied with finding Missy. Also, she hired a relatively famous Elven bard named Caelynn Tilathana for the event, but she disappeared last night and there's not a lot of time to find a replacement. Peggy-Ann notices that Q is of the bardic persuasion, and asks if they would be amenable to performing as Caelynn just so Peggy doesn't have to change the posters she's set up all over town. Q agrees on the condition that the rest of the party be able to attend the function.

Lucky volunteers to be Q/Caelynn's bodyguard, provided she can invite Hilaria as her +1. Grieg will also be an entertainer, one who specializes in interesting feats of pure skill and athleticism. The event starts just after sundown, so everyone makes plans to meet back at the perfumery by then.

As the party walks back toward home, there is a thundering crash of trees being knocked over. It is a house that walks atop four massive chicken legs! The house comes to a stop in front of Lucky and opens the door. Two humans Lucky has never seen before poke their heads out. From their unusual speech patterns, Lucky figures out that this is Kosja and her clutchmate, Turalisoth. They have transformed themselves into "soft-skins" thanks to Jangles' Jumble Juice. Now that they can pass as humans, they have decided to open up a restaurant in town.

Unsure of what to offer at a human restaurant, Kosja asks for advice. Lucky suggests eggs, while Grieg suggests salads with cheese. Kosja understands the appeal of eggs, but a bowl full of sad leaves is not as readily understandable. And cheese is a completely foreign concept. Grieg considers trying to explain what cheese is, but opts to avoid an in-depth discussion of the social implications of cheese and the game concludes for the evening.

How will this situation get resolved? Stay tuned next time for more!

[dr-owo]

Log: A Long Time Comin’ | Chapter 5

The night was a quiet one. Not a lot of people seemed to run into each other which was shocking considering the small space that they all now inhabited. However, there was something strange about this night, and that strangeness began with a bizarre message from Sorakuma. It was about midnight when everyone’s E-Watches lit up.

“Hey, hey HEY! Haven’t any of you guys noticed that there is a dead body in the hallway? Like jeez are you all just sleepin’ or something? Come on, hop to it! We don’t have all day!”

...

...

A dead body?

Almost immediately, everyone rose from where they were and quickly ambled out into the hallway where they were faced with a sight that was a long time coming...

Shichiro Kamiya, AKA Leviathan, was dead.

As one of the survivors of the first killing game, many had believed he would make it through again. However, now it seemed that at long last, Shichiro has joined the ranks of his fallen Future Foundation comrades.

Ding Dong Ding Dong!

“A body has been discovered! After a brief period of investigation, you are to all gather at the Gymnasium to begin the Classroom Trial! The body this time was discovered in the Hallway!”

At this point, Sorakuma wandered in.

“Yes!!! Yes at last!! Someone finally wiped out that annoying little turd! It took so long but finally Kamiya Shichiro-san is dead! Man, it finally feels good to have another one of those annoying Future Foundation assholes 6 feet under.”

Sorakuma could barely contain his glee.

“Alright you guys, you know the drill! Get to investigating! I will summon you all to the gymnasium when time is up! Good luck you guys, I believe in you! Oh, also, just as a heads up! Since there are so few of you left, the body discovery clause no longer applies. That way, you cannot narrow down the murderer! Kyahaha!”

It was time to investigate the murder of Shichiro Kamiya.

[hewn-of-hecate]

Heyo! So I got tagged by the lovely @trolldockan again for the little ‘about me tag’ (ps I’ll reply to either account no worries lol 😉 wrath-of-dawn was just made so I would stop spamming my friend’s dashes).

So here we go I guess?

Name: Ashley

Nickname(s): Ash and (though not anymore) Hughesy

Height: 5"6

Orientation: she/her heterosexual

Nationality: Canadian born and raised but I sometimes slip into a British accent when I’m more tired because Mum is English and Dad’s an Aussie.

Favourite fruit: Apples

Favourite scent: maple syrup or maple ginger

Favourite colour: hmm, either a nice warm green or blue.

Favourite animal: I’m a huge animal lover so this is hard but based on my pic I’d better go with fox otherwise bats (so cute) or ravens (so smart).

Coffee, tea or hot chocolate: hot chocolate hands down.

Average sleep hours: it used to be around 3 hours every school night and then like 13 on the weekends but I’ve recently been put on some medication and it’s been making me super tired so more like 6 on a school night and 10 on the weekends. Idk.

Dog or cat: dogs but I love pretty much any animal.

Favourite fictional character: dear Lord! This is the hardest question to ask me buuuuut, given my other blog I’m gonna go for a safe bet and say Yona or Hak….. Maybe Rhys from acowar… Damn this is hard.

How many blankets do you sleep with: I sleep with one thin blanket and a light duvet, I tend to run hot so I usually have everything up under my chin but with all of my legs sticking out so I don’t overheat.

Dream trip: honestly I’ve been dying to go anywhere in Scandinavia and I’m SUPER jealous of my brother going there this year. I’d also really like to go to the mountainous regions (no thank you cities) of Japan at some point.

Blog created: uhhhh, sometime around 2 years ago for this account and 2 months with wrath-of-dawn.

Followers: wanderer-of-open-skies = 66, while wrath-of-dawn has 180 lol.

Random fact: the most remote country I’ve ever been to is Vanuatu (a small archipelago off the east coast of Australia) because we went back to Aore where my dad was born with my grandmother just this past summer. My grandmother lived down at the mission there for awhile a let me tell you for an 80 year old she is still very adventurous as we rode on the back of trucks holding on to nothing more than the roof. 😂

Bonus fact: I have two guinea pigs who are sisters that we adopted about 3 years ago now called Lily and Poppy. Otherwise known as Roosterbutt and little turd respectively and they are both cuddly and pampered babies.

Not sure if I’m supposed to do the rest of the question so I guess i’ll just do them anyways?

Relationship status: single

Lipstick or chapstick: lipstick (I find it lasts longer)

Last song I listened to: Siúil a rún covered by Celtic Women

Last movie I watched: Your Name (aka Kimi No Na Wa)

Top 3 shows: akatsuki no yona/yona of the dawn, murdock mysteries and kuroshitsuji/black butler? (Im using a lot of question marks because im bad at making decisions because there’s a lot of choices)

Top 3 bands: the classic crime, jónsi and emily portman?

Books I’m reading: just finishing off The Gypsy King, The Girl from the Other Side, and various manga, webtoons and fics simultaneously (Books and stories are my life, particularly; historical, fantasy/mythos, romance adventure types).

Rules: tag 9 people you want to know better or just because you feel like it.

Ummm diddley ummm diddlie how about I ask @contagiousbr , @aligrump , @gh0stgril , @raven-bishop , @dani677 , @sorasan000 ?

Sorry if I’m bothering you guys by repeatedly tagging you. Hope you have fun and to learn more about you guys!

[myjaebutt]

#blessed

Yoongi x Jimin [Yoonmin] + Jin x Namjoon [Namjin] Word Count: 3911 Genre: Crack/Fluff Summary: “are...are you…” yoongi has to stop and take a breath. is he even allowed to ask this? jimin stops giggling and stares at yoongi expectantly, “am i what?” “are you…are you an angel?” (or sugamon get wasted af and yoongi suffers. yoongi always suffers.) [AO3]

to say yoongi is done is an understatement. he’s sure his brain has melted and the sloshing sound is from the mush moving around in his skull rather than the soju he’s carrying. he’s also sure the strange smell he keeps on getting whiffs of as he walks is coming from him and not the strange puddle of what he thought was turd earlier.  

the wary and slightly alarmed looks he keeps getting from passersby also confirms that he looks as shit (if not worse) as he feels. he can’t seem to remember the last time he took a shower let alone change his clothes. with a sigh he furrows into his (jimin’s) hoodie and rushes to namjoon’s apartment. showers can wait. right now yoongi needs to get wasted. he needs to fuckin celebrate surviving finals week. namjoon can deal with a little smell.

***

“hyung you have the alcohol?” namjoon opens the door looking all types of clean and put together yoongi hasn’t felt in days, weeks, ever.

“of course i have the alcohol. do i look like hoseok to you” yoongi pushes his way into the apartment and falls unceremoniously onto the couch. he could really use a nap, for like two years, maybe even three.

“two feet too short to be hobi hyung” namjoon snorts to himself , walking into the kitchen to receive what yoongi hopes is some sort of sustenance. his stomach feels emptier than his wallet after valentine's day (jimin is more high maintenance than he ever expected and no this does not make him whipped thank you for your unnecessary opinion kim taehyung).

“i would kick your ass for such disrespect but i don’t think i can get up” yoongi glares at the younger boy who shuffles back into the living room, arms piled high with various greasy and fattening snacks. perfect.

“if you could reach my ass” namjoon mumbles to himself and yoongi really would and could kick his ass but he’s much too preoccupied stuffing his face with shrimp chips. ass kicking could wait till later.

***

5 bottles of soju later, namjoon and yoongi are what jungkook would label “wasted af”. yoongi would care to disagree because he’s fine, totally fine, except for the small fact that namjoon keeps on spinning in front of his eyes and he doesn’t know how to make it stop.  

but other than that he’s fine, peachy, still stuffing his face with shrimp chips and trying to not look at namjoon for too long. which is kind of difficult when namjoon keeps on trying to get his attention to tell him about something his dog said. wait, his dog can’t speak. right?

“hyungggggg are you even listeninggggg” when yoongi doesn’t reply namjoon latches onto his arm and starts pulling to get his attention.

“listennnnnn to meeeeee”

yoongi would smack namjoon for pulling on his arm but all that comes out of his mouth is, “joon your dog can’t speak….right?”

a silence spreads around them and namjoon slowly backs away from yoongi, eyes wide and mouth scrunched up, almost as if he was trying not to cry.

“i.... i don’t know hyung. can he?” namjoon whispers to yoongi, looking all types of confused.

“it’s your dog namjoon how the fuck would i know?” annoyed for some reason he can’t understand yoongi starts opening another bottle. he’s too sober for this conversation.

“should i call jin hyung and ask? would he know?” namjoon mutters to himself, squinting at his phone.

yoongi leaves namjoon to his confusion and wanders off to hoseok’s room, bottled cradled in his arms like a newborn baby.

the stench of weed hits him through his drunk stupor the moment the door opens and yoongi remembers why he moved out in the first place. hoseok; resident sunshine, part-time best friend, notorious screamer in every and all moments of life and the campuses very own...weed king. yoongi doesn’t care for the fact that his friend likes to spend 80% of his week high or semi-high, even though he himself isn’t that big of a fan.

what prompted him to move out in the end was jimin; current boyfriend, has the nicest ass yoongi’s ever laid eyes on, an actual cinnamon roll and notoriously sensitive to just about everything. all it took was one off-hand comment 2 months into their relationship that the smell of weed hurt his head and yoongi moved out the next month (yoongi swears he’s not whipped though you can shut your mouth hole kim taehyung).

yoongi’s aimlessly walking around the room when namjoon pops his head into the room with a goofy smile on his face.

“jin hyung said rapmonnie can’t talk”

“that’s good?” yoongi’s like 95% sure dogs aren’t supposed to talk anyways.

“yeah. hey. hobi hyung said he got a new stash earlier this week. something special. wanna try it?” namjoon has a mischievous glint to his eyes and yoongi knows they’re both too drunk to do something stupid like getting high, but he can’t help it. it’s been a long week, and even longer month.

so without another thought yoongi finds himself nodding along and making way for namjoon to clamber into the room. he gets a weird knot in his stomach when he sees namjoon scoot under the bed. this is not going to end well.

after stumbling around under the bed for a few minutes namjoon tries to back out and ends up bumping his head on the edge. yoongi snickers from his place near the end of bed and makes no move to help his clumsy friend, this is what the punk gets for making fun of his height.

namjoon glares at him once he emerges from under the bed but yoongi’s too busy staring at the box in his hand to mind the younger boy, not that namjoon’s surprised.

without a word yoongi promptly turns away and walks back into the living room, bottle still cradled in his arms.

with a roll of his eyes namjoon follows behind and falls onto the couch, facing yoongi and tucking his long legs under him. he places the box between them and stares at yoongi.

“what the fuck you looking at?” yoongi turns and mimics the younger’s actions and places the bottle in the space between his legs.

“open it” namjoon pushes the box closer to yoongi.

“why do i have to do it?” a scowl appears on yoongi’s face, what game was namjoon trying to play.

“cuz hobi hyung won’t kill you when he finds out” namjoon uses his long ass legs to push the box against yoongi and yoongi’s scowl deepens even though he knows namjoon is 100% right.

“fine whatever” he plucks the box off the couch and swats namjoons leg away, curse namjoon and his abnormally long legs.

he spills the contents in front of him and with finessed fingers wraps up a good sized joint. the whole time namjoon watches him with enlarged eyes, amazed by yoongi’s lithe hands at work and yoongi can’t help but smirk.

***

an hour later and the joint long gone, namjoon and yoongi are definitely what jungkook would call ‘wasted af’.  

yoongi can make out namjoon speaking, some philosophical bullshit about how humans lack happiness because they care too much about others definition of happiness, but yoongi easily blocks him out (the nerd quotes socrates on a good day). instead yoongi focuses on the object in his hand (or tries to, he’s kind of worried why everything keeps shaking like all of those homemade videos taehyung likes to make of his dog). he knows it's his phone, namjoon’s own is precariously hanging off the edge of the couch, but he’s not so sure who it is on his lock screen. it has to be someone he knows, since it is his phone after all, but he can’t seem to place a name to the face and honestly it’s pissing him off. the dude on his lock screen is Hot with a capital h and yoongi is kind of in love.

“hey joon, ya know who this is?” yoongi leans over and shoves the phone into namjoon’s face.

“uhhh…. a-a-a friend?” namjoon stutters, eyes going cross-eyed as he stares at the phone.

“you are useless” yoongi grumbles curling back into his side of the couch, phone clutched to his chest.

“and i quote, ‘it’s none of my business what people say of me and think of me’” namjoon looks at yoongi, a faraway look in his eyes.

“joon, don’t you dare start this” yoongi warns.

“i am what i am and i do what i do”

“namjoon.”

“i expect nothing and accept everything”

“kim namjoon.” yoongi leans in. namjoon gulps. “shut up before i shut you up forever”

“haters gon’ hate and playas gon’ play. mufuckas keep mufuckin all day” silence engulfs the room as namjoon clasps both hands over his mouth, eyes going wide as he waits for yoongi to do something. anything.

and really yoongi could, and most definitely should, kick namjoon’s ass right about now (he may be “smol” as all his assholes friends like to remind him every single fuckin day but all those years of taekwondo weren’t for nothing).

however just as yoongi’s about to make his way over to teach namjoon a lesson about shutting the fuck up when your elders tell you to, yoongi’s phone vibrates with a message notification. and really a message wouldn’t usually stop yoongi from ladling out a well deserved ass whooping but said message is from the totally hot boy on his lock screen and yoongi scrambles to unlock his phone.

he momentarily stops to wonder why hot boy is saved in his contacts as jibooty. like what does that even mean. but all is forgotten when he opens the message and is greeted, read blessed, by a selfie from said hot boy aka jibooty. a blindingly cute picture in which his eyes are closed into crescents as he smiles widely at the camera. yoongi gasps, free hand coming up to clutch at his chest, how dare totally hot boy also be totally cute too.

from the corner of his eye yoongi sees namjoon start to move and turns to glare at the younger boy again, all was not forgotten. namjoon quickly retreats back to holding his mouth and yoongi nods once before turning back to his phone. namjoon should be thankful to this jibooty guy, he practically saved his life.

yoongi’s still staring at his phone when he hears the front door open and a shrill voice speak out, “oh my god it stinks in here.”

another voice, slightly softer, laughs out, “hobi hyung is gonna be so mad.”

the second voice sounds strangely familiar and yoongi turns to namjoon who simply shrugs his shoulders, hands still clasped over his mouth. yoongi doesn’t even know why he bothered. all a wasted namjoon do was quote dead guys.

with a roll of his eyes yoongi turns back around and instantly freezes the fuck up. because right there, a few feet away stands the totally hot dude aka jibooty aka the dude with the cutest fuckin smile yoongi’s ever been blessed to see and he’s not sure what’s real anymore (there’s another totally gorgeous guy next to jibooty but yoongi’s a loyal type of guy).

yoongi looks down at his phone and back up, and then back down and he’s not sure if this is some wet dream of his but he’s totally down. jibooty is even more hot in person. “fuck me.”

and then the most magical thing in yoongi’s whole life happens (well maybe, he can’t actually remember anything before this morning so who really knows, not yoongi for sure). totally hot dude let’s out the cutest giggle ever and yoongi’s whipped af, for a fuckin giggle. he would gladly give up his entire life savings, his house, his parents, heck he’d even give up his cat (if he had a cat) to hear that giggle again.

then totally hot boy strikes again. the cutest fuckin smile yoongi’s ever seen in his life returns, all wide and way too big with his eyes turning into crescents and yoongi feels attacked. his heart is racing, his palms are sweaty and honestly yoongi  feels as if he’s run a marathon and he's not sure if he should curl up into himself or fling himself at the boy (he really wants to fling himself at the boy). thankfully yoongi has some sort of control and crawls towards namjoon instead. he's still thinking about flinging himself into the arms of the boy though. he's pretty sure he could catch him because damn those arms though (yoongi wills his entire existence to not to think of those thighs because god help him he's gonna lose it).

“pstt. joon. i think the hot guy from my phone just came to life” yoongi whispers towards namjoon, eyes still trained on the guy. his heart almost stops when he sees the boy blush and hide a shy smile behind his hand and yoongi realizes much too late that his whispering is fuckin useless if it can be heard across the room.

“omg hyung. he even brought a friend” namjoon whispers, read screams, back at yoongi.

yoongi rolls his eyes at his friend and whispers, or so he thinks, “shhhh joon. they can hear you”

“but hyung. he’s hot. like really hot.”

“well im glad you think so” the taller guy smiles sweetly as he walks over to the couch and sits next to namjoon.

yoongi watches in shock as the guy carefully picks up the phone hanging on the edge of couch and dumps it in namjoon’s lap. he then slowly smooths back namjoon’s hair, still smiling way too sweetly.

“im flattered that you find your boyfriend to be ho.” he says with a smirk as he leans back against the couch.

“my boyfriend?!” namjoon chokes out the same time yoongi screeches,

“his boyfriend?!”

the guy just rolls his eyes and resumes petting namjoon’s head.

“what the fuck” yoongi deadpans before turning to stare at jibooty who’s trying really hard not laugh out loud, and failing miserably.

“what the actual fuck”

“ho--how?” namjoon stutters, unconsciously moving closer to the tall guy.

“how what?” the guy asks, an amused smile on his face.

“how did i get so lucky?” namjoon asks with all seriousness, staring up at the guy as if he was afraid he would disappear if he blinked.

“oh my god. jin-hyung i think namjoon-hyung just fell for you again” jibooty gives up on holding back his laughter and almost doubles over at the force of his own laugh.

“i wouldn’t laugh so hard jimin. the first thing yoongi said when he saw you was and i quote, ‘fuck me’.”

yoongi watches in awe as jibooty, aka jimin, stops laughing and starts spluttering as he flushes bright red. the flush spread all the way across jimin’s face and down his neck and yoongi can’t help but wonder how far down it goes (yoongi isn't a pervert he swears).

jimin’s face gets so red yoongi can’t help but wonder how hot his face would be if he touched it right now. so yoongi does what any sane person would do, totally. he slowly walks over to jimin, who simply watches him with a slightly amused looked.

and then when yoongi gets close enough he reaches out and places his hand on jimin’s cheek. totally normal, yup. jimin jumps slightly at the contact and flushes even more.

“wow. you’re really hot.” yoongi deadpans as he cradles jimin’s warm cheek in his palm. (yoongi also screams internally at how soft jimin’s cheeks are but no one needs to know that).

he can hear namjoon and the jin guy laughing, obnoxiously loud, in the back but he doesn’t really care. not when jimin is smiling at him, all big and wide and yoongi’s heart does that weird pounding thing when he runs after taehyung for eating all his cereal.

“i am?” jimin raises his eyebrow at yoongi and yoongi finally realizes what he said. fuck yoongi and his lack of brain activity when wasted.

still cradling jimin’s cheek yoongi tries to amend the situation. “well yeah. your face is like really warm and red right now. but you’re also like hot, like hot hot not warm hot. ya know?”

a moment passes as jimin stares at yoongi and yoongi wonders if he fucked up with the totally hot hot guy. his asshole best friend and his new, supposed to be old, boyfriend laughing like this is the comedy sketch of the century isn’t helping either.

then something wonderful happens and jimin starts giggling. he fuckin starts giggling like yoongi said the funniest thing ever and yoongi needs to fight his mom for telling him angels don’t exist. because she’s wrong. dead wrong. yoongi is like 300% sure jimin is an angel.

“are...are you…” yoongi has to stop and take a breath. is he even allowed to ask this?

jimin stops giggling and stares at yoongi expectantly, “am i what?”

“are you…are you an angel?”

the room is so quiet yoongi can hear namjoon gulping for air as he tries to stop himself from hyperventilating, and failing miserably. good. yoongi hopes he chokes on air.

jimin’s staring at him, a look that’s so sweet and intimate yoongi has to retreat his hand. he can feel the beginning of a blush spreading across his own face.

then jimin starts giggling again and the two idiots in the back are back to laughing way too loud and yoongi’s sure namjoon’s about to choke any second (serves that asshole right, he was supposed to be yoongi’s best friend wth). but none of that really matters because yoongi is now 400% sure jimin is an angel.

“can i see your wings?” yoongi softly asks, hands coming up unconsciously to grasp at the air between them.

with a smile jimin holds yoongi’s hands in his own and yoongi has to literally stop himself from cooing out loud. jimin has to have the smallest and cutest hands yoongi’s ever seen. holding his hands feel like a blessing. jimin the angel has blessed poor min yoongi’s sad life. he is cured, he will prosper, he will never be sad.

#blessed

yoongi has to force himself to look up from jimin’s hands when he hears him talking again.

“only my boyfriend can see them”

what kind of bullshit is that, yoongi thinks grumpily.

“but...i wanna see…” yoongi grumbles, lips pursing out into a non-pout, because min yoongi does not pout. ever.

“sorry. it’s the rules hyung” jimin squeezes yoongi’s hands in what would be a comforting gesture but all yoongi can think about is seeing some angel wings.

“can’t you like, you know...break up with him. and like, you know...be my boyfriend?” it’s a great idea. min yoongi is a problem solver. a genius. his mother would be proud.

“break up with him?” jimin is smiling at yoongi weirdly and maybe yoongi should know by now that this is a bad idea but he like really, really, REALLY wants to see them angel wings.

“yeah. i’m a great catch, i swear. i can’t cook, but i don’t burn my ramen’s so that’s pretty good. i haven’t graduated yet but i have a part-time job and i rap and people say its good. also i don’t break everything like namjoon. and im like super low maintenance. like all i need is cuddles and a couple kisses a day and im good….yeah” yoongi kinda wishes a black hole would spontaneously appear and suck him away. it would be probably less painful than the embarrassment he feels right now.

“hmmm. maybe i should.”

screw embarrassment. yoongi was getting himself a man. “yes. call him right now. do it.”

to yoongi’s delight jimin takes out his phone and starts dialing.

“get it hyung!” namjoon cheers from the back and yoongi smiles despite himself. he was definitely getting it.

a vibration in yoongi’s pocket startles him and he reluctantly lets go of one of jimin’s hands to take his phone out of his pocket.

“why are you calling me?” yoongi looks up at jimin incredulously. “you’re supposed to call your boyfriend so you can date me.”

jimin laughs before hanging up. “well you see hyung. we’re kind of already dating.”

“wait. are you like, you know, for real right now?”

“very”

“holy shit”

yoongi slowly turns around to look at namjoon.

“joon. im fuckin dating an angel”

“holy shit hyung”

jin and jimin break out into laughter and yoongi whips around to stare at jimin. he’s dating an angel. min yoongi is dating an angel. a totally hot and totally cute angel. min yoongi is truly blessed.

#blessed

***

yoongi wakes up the next morning feeling like he’s been left out to dry in the sun and then continuously pounded in the head with a bucket. his throat is drier than namjoon’s hair after a bleach and his eyes, once he prys them open, feel as if someone's been blowing into them. overall yoongi feels like shit. absolute shit.

just when yoongi thinks it couldn’t get any worse he feels someone stirring next. in a state of panic yoongi freezes up and prays to all gods out there that he didn’t fuck things up more than he already thinks. he slowly look down and lets out the biggest sigh when he realizes it’s just jimin. thank fuck, yoongi really didn’t wanna die today. and trust him, there was a long list of people who would gladly kill him if he fucked up. even though he knows just taehyung and jungkook are enough to kill and dispose of his body without anyone finding out.

he’s just about to relax when everything from yesterday floods back and yoongi groans. “fuck me.”

“wow hyung. you’re really asking for it again” a sleepy jimin smirks at yoongi. and yoongi would totally tell him to shut up, but he’s weak for sleepy bed-haired jimin (he’s weak for jimin in all and every state tbh).

“im gonna kill namjoon and then myself” yoongi deadpans running a hand across his face.

“it wasn’t that bad hyung” jimin giggles into his neck and yoongi can already feel himself melting.

“i called you an angel and then told you to break up with me so you could date me. just so i could see your wings”

“well... it was pretty bad”

yoongi groans. “im never drinking or smoking or even going near namjoon again. our friendship is over. im never fixing another door for him again”

yoongi hears jimin shuffling next to him and then next thing he knows jimin's straddling him and smiling all wide and beautiful and yoongi can’t help but smile back. he never can. he’s weak. sue him.

“it’s okay hyung. you were very cute. i totally fell for you again. total boyfriend material. would date. 10/10”

“oh shut up”

“hey don’t be mean. i won’t show you my wings otherwise”

yoongi rolls his eyes before pulling jimin down for a kiss. fuck hangover/morning breath. yoongi was gonna kiss his angel if he wanted to.

min yoongi may make stupid choices, and have friends who make even stupider choices. but he knows an angel when he sees one, and yoongi was definitely dating an angel named park jimin.

#blessed

[piprandom]

Poop

You are my arch nemesis. I see you wandering around as I go about my IT Computer Nerd business: Tall. Middle Eastern. Pot Belly. We catch each others eye every now and then and give each other a slight nod. I know you, I know what you do and I am on to your games. I saw you this morning, we made eye contact. You nodded and took another bite of whatever Death-Ass producing garbage you fuel up on that makes the bathroom, smell like the inside of a dead monkey's colon, and nodded at me. I got you this time, fucker. I give you my icy grin and nod back, then hurry back to my office. It's almost noon, and that's the time you like to run to the toilet and preform your daily ASS JIHAD on all the people just trying to wash their hands. Maybe in your country there is no common sense that would tell you that lunch time = hand wash time. People want to get clean and eat, not be fumigated with the high octane liquid shit attack you subjugate them too. But I got you this time. Yeah fucker I GOT SOMETHING COOKING UP FOR YOU! Two egg sandwiches with cheese. Greasy sausage patties. A couple glasses of Tang. Some leftover Chinese food. A Twix. Root Beer Soda. Some steamed broccoli I had in the fridge. A Hot Pocket with peperoni and cheese. A Chocolate Pop tart. And like a cherry on top ... a McDonald's quarterpounder with cheese. I never eat this shit, it's all greasy and fucking nasty, but today is the day I fight back. I go out for a quick mile jog and almost die. My stomach feels like there are two midgets fighting to the death inside there. I walk back to work, ass clenched tighter than a virgin's thighs at Church. Great. The hot chick from next door wants to chat. She assumes the sweat on my face and arms is from running. She doesn't realize that it's a cold sweat induced by my severe sphincter trauma. She finally shuts up and I stagger to the Death Ass Arena. You are there already in your favorite stall: The one right next to the fucking sinks. You stupid, socially retarded fuck. Fine. You have yet to begin your daily purge of Middle Eastern Ass Stew. I enter the stall next to you and drop my pants in preparation of the upcoming battle. Your opening salvo is fired: A sloppy wet fart with a solid-shot closer. I laugh and show you the power of Advanced American Foodstuffs. The tuba fart I unleash echos off the walls and shrinks my waistline about an inch. The guy at the urinal laughs as I slap the wall between you and I and say "Back to YOU, Kajid!". You are silent, I assume you know who I am and that the time has come for us to battle. I know you are summoning your intestinal fortitude for full out war. You do not disappoint me. With a hissing "SSSShhhhhzzzzzzzzz!" you squirt out a deadly spray of ass juice that pollutes the air and makes my head swim. The pisser at the urinal is no longer laughing, he quickly zips up and runs for the door. He did not stop to wash his hands, instead opting to head for the hills. I cover my mouth and nose with my shirt and the black spots disappear from my vision. My head clears. I am ready. "AAaaaaaaaRRRRRGGGHHH!" I yell, as I drop Big Tim. That's short for "Big Timber" ... AKA "Mississippi Butt Log". Quick-fire farts stutter out of my ass, as I push the monster log from the Shit Dimension into our reality. The beefy, yeasty stench easily overpowers the Indian Ass Gutter oder of your previous attack. Mega Turd hits the water in the bowl with a mighty splash, the reek is that of a dead whale slowly ripening in the hot, tropical sun. I catch my breath and wipe my brow, and start to pat myself on the back. I should have known the battle was not over. The only thing I can think of is that you must has completely unzipped your ass to your elbow. That's the only way I could begin to explain the lumpy, creamy splashes falling out of your ass into the toilet. It sounds like you are pouring a gallon of strawberry shake with whole strawberries in it into the shitter. I see the hairs on my arms start to curl from the horrid stench wafting up from under your stall. I shudder and sway on my throne, unsure if I will survive. I have no choice. I must employ the Deal Breaker. I hunker down and clench my hands together. My fingers twitch and entwine like a nest of snakes, almost like I am running through a series of ancient Ninja Hand Symbols. My feet lift up onto the toes and my legs start to shake. "You want to play??" I growls. A low moaning comes from my stomach, like a dinosaur calling into a swampy, foggy night. "YOU GOT IT! AAAAAAHHHHHH!" Like Cloud summoning The Knights of the Round in Final Fantasy 7, I summon the Excalibur of Turd Demons to destroy my enemy. Hot magma-like shit rockets out of my ass, releasing a noxious, sticky cloud of deadly rectal perfume. I hear you gag and see your feet shuffle around, but you can't get away, can you? No. You can't. Veins throb on my neck and temples as the turd monster tears itself from my bowels. My lips skin back from my now clenched teeth and I try not to scream. Your roll of toilet paper rolls into my stall. You must have torn it from the wall with numb fingers in an attempt to "Wipe and Scoot". Too late. MUCH too late! Oder's pound you with merciless fists: Rotten Fruitcake stuffed with boiled chicken assholes. Hammered shit-logs served on a bed of week old white rice. Rosie O'Donnel's rancid crotch farts. The smell of your mom's dank, hairy Middle Eastern armpits. Your stall door bangs open and you stagger out. You take three unsteady steps to the door and can barely open it wide enough to slip out. I laugh at you before you leave. "Yeah! RUN, Fucker!" I yell, and laugh again. You say nothing. It's all over except for the clean up. Fuck with me again, you shit filled Anal Terrorist. Me and my ass will be waiting.