#and i have SUCH a chip on my shoulder about it

[hoesformatt]

ASSMATIZED

chris smut, I was staring at my fat ass too much nd then came up w this😝

dom!chris • poc!reader friendly

contains: pet names, no use of y/n, touching/groping, cowgirl, doggy style, spanking, oral (m!receiving), thick!reader (ass, thighs, all that’s nice), raw/unprotected (fiction!)

word count: 1.2k

summary: you and the triplet have been friends for a while now and you’ve been making jokes about how you want Chris to fuck you but this time you weren’t playing and he caught on

We ran around the wally-world (walmart), Chris chasing me down the aisles, dodging the people that were there. “C’mere!” My running made my shorts ride up quickly, causing me to slow down and get caught by Chris “Slow ass” I laughed my ass off, still in Chris’ arms after he tackled me.

“I only slowed down cause my shorts were riding up and my ass was flying out” I pulled down my shorts from my inner thighs to the back, thinking, I should’ve worn tights even with the heat outside.

I had caught a glimpse of Chris salivating at my juicy ass and thunder thighs, he licked his lips taking a gulp before looking forward.

Coming around to find Matt and Nick in the chips & snack aisle, Nick had Matt holding the candies and chip bags, looking for more. “Where were you at? Gone to fuck or something?” Chris was stunned by Nick’s comment, taking a step back.

“She said she bet I can’t catch her” he shrugged his shoulders, glancing back having a smile plastered on his face.

Matt rolled his eyes at our constant bickering. “And what do you gain from that? Nothing” Nick finished getting his stuff after we did, walking with urgency to the check-out.

The four of us got situated in my AMG, I sat in the back with Chris, Matt drove, and Nick was the passenger princess. “Nick play, Throw sum mo” Matt requested “yesss, lemme do my one” I hyped as he grabbed aux to play the song, and Matt instantly began singing along with Nicki.

I unbuckled my seatbelt to turn around when Chris started to complain about how I was moving while Matt was still driving “Don’t hate me cause I’m beautiful plus it’s my car” I rebutted. With my hands on the seat, I began to shake my ass the song, making Nick lean to the back and smack it.

Chris stayed playing around, acting annoyed but he was fighting a smile in the hectic car. “Bro sit back down, you’re making the car shake” he pushed to sit “The car shaking because my ass fat like the sun—” I flicked my tongue at him in a sexual manner “—and don’t act like you can’t have this if you want to” I said the last sentence quieter than the first, winking at him. I sat back down for the rest of the ride to their house.

I playfully walked into the house, placing all the snacks on the counter, jumping beside it and a loud clap came from the cold granite against my large thighs. My thighs stung, but I shrugged it off, rifling through the bags of sweets while Chris watched me in the corner of my eye.

Nick ran off to his room and Matt went off—wherever and then Chris walked between my legs, his hands finding themselves on my thighs that were spread on the counter. “What’s up?” This was the closest Chris has gotten to me, and I was loving it.

I wanted him inside of me, tearing me apart. “You know what you were doing to me in the car,” he reminded me, squeezing my thigh and getting closer to my face.

“What are you talking about?" I played dumb with him, licking my lips still keeping intense eye contact. “Do that shit again and see what happens." He leaned in, gripping my neck as we kissed each other. His tongue slipped into my mouth, tasting me.

Chris pulled back, realizing what we had just done. “C’mon Chris, we’re grown.” I saw sudden disinterest in his lustrous eyes.

Our bodies parted as we heard Nick race downstairs, sliding towards us in his socks. “Cool right? I bought them at Walmart, and I think they’re my best investment yet.” I glanced back at Chris, whose eyes had already departed from mine.

Nick found his way to slide away from us and I had finally got Chris alone again. “Chris c'mere." He bee-lined towards me, as I held his hands in mine putting them on my body after he consented. “Chris I could give you all of this if you let me” His cock noticeably grew in his sweats as he nodded hoisting me from my hips and up carrying me upstairs, entering his bedroom, I knew he was strong but not this strong.

He let me get on my knees, between his legs after I slipped his pants down to his ankles.“Relax baby” My pussy pulse once I had contact with his cock. His cum-glazed tip was laid on my lips, twitching once I put it in. I swirled the tip in my mouth making lewd noises.

I spluttered on his cock trying to take all his inches in while I stroked the base, I gazed up at him suggestively, kissing his throbbing tip. Chris’ hands found themselves gripping my hair to push my head down when I abruptly stuffed his length in my throat.

“Choke on it” Chris got me to put my hands behind back while he guided my head. His eyes slipped close and his lips did the opposite; soft and deep moans escaped his mouth “You’re so fucking good at this mama” He praised with a smirk on his face.

A hand went through his fluffy hair. His chest heaved heavier as he got closer to his climax, fitting every inch in my throat and pulling out repeatedly until I felt his cock twitch and liquids spill into my mouth, streaming down my throat. “Get on fours for me” Chris took control and I got up from my knees, before removing my shorts and climbing onto the bed.

“Arch that back, baby” I did as he said waiting for Chris to line up his dick to my tight hole, “I can feel your warmth.” He pumped his cock a few times, then inserted it in. My wetness made it easier to fit inside, stretching me out with his thick length “Fuck yes”.

His cock filled me up to the brim as he began to slide into me. I loved the feeling when Chris entered me, abusing my walls. “I’ve been thinking about you and this beautiful ass—” He smacks my ass watching it recoil “—all day.”

The thrusts only got harder when Chris’ nails dug into my hips, stinging my skin, but I was taken away from the ecstasy. My skin was prickled with warmth as his skin touched mine, the pace of his motions creating slapping sounds.

The moans coming out of my mouth were inaudible while Chris enjoyed how much of a mess he made of me. “I never thought you could make such sweet noises.” Chris kneaded my ass, being hypnotized by the way my ass moved and snapping his hips rapidly to the point that he had tears coming out of my eyes and my pussy.

I gripped on the sheets like my life depended on them; my legs began to go limp and he held my body up.

He was fucking me up from all angles. I was clenching around Chris making him twitch inside and our orgasms were coming close. I felt the pleasure flow from my heat, along with me saying his name in a high-pitched moan. My cum coated his length as he continued to thrust into me slowly, pulling out to push me cum back inside my cunt with his thumb, licking off the rest.

Chris slightly stroked his dick before coming all over my back and my ass. “I love your body, this is mine." He massaged and squeezed my ass, unable to take his eyes off it.

tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi

[sl0t4matt]

Marc Guiu and reader making up after an argument pls

m. guiu | into it

ik hector doesn’t have his license yet but here he does ok?! also sorry i got carried away and wrote smut :o

warnings: toxic relationship, smut, not proof read

“are you actually fucking kidding me, marc?” you scoff, grabbing your things ready to leave. you were sick of his shit. sick of him taking his anger out on you when you did nothing but support and be there for him. how could be so mean? you understand that him loosing a game would get him upset, but making it seem like it’s your fault, when he should’ve been the one to kick the ball in the net is just not fair.

“yeah run away, like you always do when it gets tough.” he walks after you, shrugging his shoulders. “marc, don’t you take your shit out on me, because the both of us know it’s literally not on me you can’t kick a ball.” you shake your head, clearly having enough of your boyfriends whining. “fuck you can be such a-.” he stops himself before saying something stupid. “yeah, no we’re done. don’t even try to call me because i won’t come back. i mean it this time.”

you walk out the house, catching marc’s sister on the way. “hey, what happened, i heard yelling, are you guys okay?” she gives you an concerned look, probably noticing the tears that have been building up in the corner of your eyes.

before you completely break down in front of her, you decide to give her a nod, before leaving. you couldn’t believe marc. he has gotten mad about his team losing many times, but it has never been this bad. sure you would fight, it’s just something that was part of your relationship, but maybe that isn’t so normal after all.

you were both toxic playing stupid games with each other like how to make the other jealous. you loved it, the fights, the trouble. it’s what kept your relationship entertaining, but now you weren’t so sure anymore.

just fucking great! now you have to walk home. you go to walk on the other side of the street, when you suddenly hear a honk, making you jump. you turn to see hectors car stopping beside you. “shit, you scared me! what the hell are you doing here.” you sigh, shaking your head. “came to take you home.” he answers. “i’m f-.” “just get in the damn car, y/n.” hector interrupts you. you roll your eyes, walking to the passenger seat.

you wouldn’t have needed him to drive you if it wasn’t so dark out. “did marc tell you to drive me?” you ask, looking over at him. he doesn’t reply, instead he keeps looking at the road not giving a reaction, so you must take his silence as an answer. “what happened?” you can’t help but scoff. “as if marc didn’t tell you already.” he shakes his head. “he didn’t. he just told me he fucked up again and that i should pick you up.”

“we’ll at least he knows he did.” you breathe out a laugh. “seriously, what happened?” he repeats. “he’s just bitching about the lose of the game and literally behaves like a child, acting like it’s my fault. he also almost called me a bitch… so told him we’re done.” hectors eyes widen, looking like they are about to pop out. “wait what? you broke up with him, like for real this time.”

you giggle, nodding. “i’m just done with all the fights, you know.” you look out the window watching the peaceful road, with almost no cars to be seen. “but you guys love it.” he furrows. “i’m just tired lf it, you know?” he nods. “that’s fair, he’s dumb for treating you like that.” hector says, before shutting the motor down, because you arrived home. “what are you doing right now?” you ask hector, since you guys haven’t talked much previously. “nothing, why?” you smirk. “you have to stay with me! we haven’t had our gossip sessions in so long.” you nudge him. “yeah, if that makes you feel better.” he smiles shrugging. “definitely. god, there’s so much tea!!” you walk over to your house

…

“i still love him, even if he does stupid shit like that you know.” you tell hector, while stuffing the chips in your mouth. you would probably die if anyone saw you like this, but it’s only hector, he’s seen you your worst times. even though he’s marc’s best friend, he never told him anything when you would talk about him. that’s why you can talk so openly with him about anything, he just won’t tell anyone. “then why don’t you get back with him?” hector asks. a knock on the door cuts in your conversation. “y/n?” you hear marc’s voice, making hectors mouth drop in a gasp.

shit, this looks so wrong right now, with hector laying in your bed as well as yourself. you walk over to the door, opening it a tiny bit to see his sad looking face. he genuinely looks like he’s sorry. you look back to hector that sits dumbfound in your bed. “who’s in there?” marc asks. you shake your head. “no one.” you answer way too quick. he pushes open your door, revealing hector that is sat on your bed. you look him in the eyes to see an hint of reaction, but he doesn’t show any.

“why is he here?” marc asks, way too calm, it’s almost scaring you. “we just talked.” you say your eyes meeting with the ground, mentally preparing yourself for the yelling. “okay.” he just nods. you look up at him, a furrow on your face. have you heard that right? “can i talk to you..alone?” marc scratches the back of his head, nervously. you nod following him out.

“did you fuck him?” woah straight to it marc! also what the fuck? “what the fuck, no!” you exclaim. “okay.” he nods. “marc, can you explain yourself other than replying with an “okay”. why are you here?” he just keeps head low. he almost looks like.. he’s intimidated by you.

“i wanted to apologise.” he finally looks at you. suddenly hector comes out of your room. he points to the door awkwardly, mentioning he’s gonna leave. you give him a smile before looking back at marc.

“marc..” you start. “no please, don’t say anything, just hear me out. i shouldn’t have talked to you the way that i did. it was stupid of me to take everything out on you, because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and i would never want you to feel guilty of something that i did. i understand that you probably never wanna talk to me again, but i just need to make sure that despite what i said, you know that i love you.” something in the way he’s saying it makes you believe him, but you’re not sure if you can forgive him so soon.

but fuck, he has no right to look this good right now, you’re supposed to be mad at him! his lips plump and red from the way he’s been biting on them nervously, his biceps broad and strong as he crosses his arms and his eyes looking lowly down on you. how can you be mad at him, when he looks like that? “you’re on probation, i guess.” marc’s eyes light up. “what’s that supposed to mean? please. are you ever going to forgive me?” he asks, needing to know. “like i said, you’re on probation.” you reply, getting closer to him. “that isn’t a yes, y/n. do i need to get on my knees and beg for you?” you can’t help but smirk. “getting on your knees wouldn’t be such a bad idea, actually.”

“fucking hell, well we can always make that happen, ma.” his hand makes its way to your waist, pulling you onto him. in a matter of seconds his lips are on your’s. he tightens his hands on your waist and runs the other up your back, pressing you harder into his chest. your hands move in his hair, pulling him closer, if that’s even possible. he parts your lips with his tongue, to deepen the kiss. his hand on your waist loosens and trails down the side of your body, until he turns it to grab your ass. he lets out a low groan, bringing his other hand also down on your ass. you pull on his bottom lip slightly, making him smile in the kiss before reconnecting them again.

he squeezes your butt, muttering a quick “jump.” before picking you up and carrying you to your bed. he sits down, your legs each spread as you straddle him. he grips your hips, moving them back and forth so you’ll grind on him.

he groans as you feel his dick twitching under your cunt. he unbuttons his pants, making you slide your hand in them to feel his hard and veiny dick. you always forget how big he is.

he groans, taking your hand out of his boxers. “i want to make you feel good.” can he get any hotter? you smile at him, while dropping beside him on the bed. he lifts your arms before taking off your top and throwing it on the ground. he begins sucking and kissing your neck, most likely in order to cause hicky’s so everyone knows who you belong to, but it feels too good right now, to care about. his hand slides down to your loose pyjama shorts, touching your clit. you let out a whimper. you forgot how well he knew what you liked. “you look so good, ma.” he now kisses your tits also sucking on them like a newborn.

his mouth moves back on your’s, when he slides his cold fingers into your shorts, forming goosebumps on your skin. he immediately finds your hole pushing his fingers inside of you without an warning. he keeps stretching your walls, causing you to moan in his mouth. you part your mouth in the kiss, marc taking the opportunity to bite on your button lip, tasting your cherry flavoured lipgloss. he plumps his fingers in and out of you, whispering sweet words in your ear, in order to show his love for you.

his mouth moves from your face, down to your body, where you need him the most. he starts eating you out like his live depends on it licking and sucking in all your juices. you push his head deeper in your cunt, needing to feel him deeper. “marc i need your dick, please.” you moan. he looks up to you, eyes glistening, having waited for you to say that. as soon as the words left your mouth, he instantly turns you around, having your face meet with the pillow. he pulls your pants down, following with his own. you turn your head to watch him pull out his dick. lord, you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to his size.

he stretches your cunt as he slides into you, having you bite in the pillow in order to not let embarrassing sounds out of you. he fills you up moving, his dick in and out of you. your eyes almost fall to the back of your head, from rolling them as he fucks into you relentlessly. “fuck, so tight, ma.” he groans. you move your ass up, for yourself to feel him deeper, according to the fact he isn’t fully in you yet. “fuck, y/n. if you do that one more time i’m gonna come.” he curses.

he buries his dick deeper inside of you, his balls hitting your butt, making you whine of pleasure. he spanks your ass, fastening his peace. “marc!” you cry, as you feel him hitting your g spot. he moves rapidly, squeezing your waist. your legs begin shaking, signalling marc that, you’re gonna come. “do it.” he demands. with a cry, you cum around his cock, making him twist inside of you and pull out, coming on your belly.

he breathes heavily, his sweaty chest rising and falling with each breathe he takes. “fuck.” he mutters before getting up to take a towel from your bathroom. you look on your cum covered stomach, then back at marc that’s coming back with the towel. he smiles slightly, as he wipes it all off of you. “how are you?” he goes to lay beside you, his arms naturally finding their way to your waist, hugging you. “for a person that won’t be able to walk for the next hours, i’m doing great actually.” he laughs, pecking your shoulder.

[syeren]

WARZONE.

Megumi couldn’t help it— Help his slight and ever-so-growing obsession over you, that is.

Ever since you, a new student, transferred to the Tokyo Metropolitan location of Jujutsu High he couldn’t help but be curious. Sure, it’s always the talk of the school if a new face shows up out of the blue… But you? It felt weird to him. He plastered on his signature stoic expression as he waltzed down the halls from his dorm, letting a faint yawn escape him as he neared Yuji’s door.

“Coming in, you better be wearing clothes or else,” he forewarned the boy, opening the door lazily and slowly removing his shoes. As he placed it neatly to the side of the door, an unfamiliar voice caught his attention.

“You don’t wear clothes? So you just walk around butt-naked and everything?”

The sound of Yuji’s whining instantly pierced his ears right after. “No! Megumi only enters my room after my shower, so technically… Not my fault!”

The boy in question rolled his eyes and walked around the corner of the entrance, seeing you and Yuji situated at his PC.

Megumi let out a soft sigh of relief and muttered out, “Just so you know, normal people wear clothes after they take a shower.”

“W-Why are you still acting like I’m completely naked?” Yuji groaned out, slumping in his gamer chair with a loud huff. “I had socks on.”

Megumi could see your expression in the corner of his eyes, a look of disbelief and pure confusion.

“… Socks?” You reiterated, blinking blankly at the boy in front of you.

“Yeah. Socks,” Yuji replied, perhaps a little too proud of his statement. A soft slap sound from Megumi’s palm met his forehead as he shook his head.

“But you didn’t think underwear would be the priority?” he deadpanned.

“My feet get cold,” Yuji replied and casually grabbed a nearby chip packet from his drawer of endless snacks. “Anyway, whatcha doin’ here Megumi?”

This time, Megumi looked around in thought, pondering about why the heck he was even there in the first place.

“I need some paper,” he boredly responded, making a beeline to the opposite side of the room in a hurry. Hell, he had no idea if his only chance to not look like a fool in front of you was actually going to be there, but with little hope, he continued to stride over to Yuji’s messy bookshelf.

He scanned from top to bottom, bottom to top, side to side, his eyes were getting overstimulated with how much Yuji had stuffed all kinds of trinkets on the ledge of the shelves.

“Lined? Blank? Ooh, or these fancy eco-friendly ones I made?” Yuji called out to Megumi, shuffling out three small stacks of different types of paper. Megumi let out a shaky breath, of course they would be at his desk. The very area he wanted to avoid. He turned around and reluctantly hobbled back.

“Lined.”

Taking one sheet from the stack, he swivelled his stature away again to the entrance, obviously leaving you and Yuji bewildered.

“Just one sheet of paper?” You asked Megumi, who was struggling to step into his boots.

“Yeah,” he muttered, grunting as he finally slipped his foot in after struggling for what felt like a century. He could already feel a thin layer of cold sweat form along his nape as you spoke.

Yuji turned to you and shrugged his shoulders, before patting you roughly on the arm. “Can you force him to stay? I need another person on my team for Warzone.”

“Why don’t you ask him? He’s still here—“

The sound of the door shutting at the front was enough for you to shut up instantly.

“— Nevermind.”

At your words, the pink-haired boy stretched his arms up and stood on his feet, rolling his shoulders as if he was preparing to lunge into battle. The mischievous glint in his eyes gave you the impression that he was, in fact, going to fight off his dear friend for him to play a game… Or prepare himself to be beat up, and then plead his surrender. As much as you wanted to watch the gruesome battle between two teenaged boys have a bickering show-down, you interrupted Yuji and pushed him back into his chair.

“Fine, let me talk to him,” you sighed, before heading your way to the entrance. Yuji on the other hand squealed in delight, following right behind you before grabbing hold of your wrist to high-five his hand with yours.

“Great because I was really not looking forward to another argument— I mean, I would win of course… But I would feel bad for Megumi if he lost! Soooooo… I’ll let you talk to him,” Yuji exclaimed, boastfully leaning against the doorframe with his chin held high. You stood outside his dorm room and shut the door in his face, before walking to Megumi’s room right beside his.

You knocked once. Twice. Possibly three times, you’ve lost count, until it finally opened. Megumi opened the door with a grumble, not bothering to look up as he barked, “I don’t need anymore paper—“

“Not about paper,” you added, peeking your head around the slight crack he managed to pry open. “Come play Warzone.”

Megumi eyed you blankly and you couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out. Was there a strand of hair sticking up? Something wrong with your face? No, it was him trying to calm his nerves and train his brain to go back into his zen state of mind for a moment— Just for a second! So he can actually talk to you properly without worrying about stammering his words. Thankfully, it’s something he’s good at.

“Warzone?” he questioned before sighing, “Did Yuji ask you to do this?”

“Yes and no,” you glanced back at Yuji’s closed door, before turning your attention to Megumi again. “I guess he was pre-planning to ask you and it seemed like he was really getting into it, so I just offered.”

Megumi stiffened. If there was one other thing Yuji was good at, it was be subconsciously picking up on emotions at the right times (only the right times, he’s not giving him that much credit), and perhaps he had caught on to Megumi’s white lie he suddenly used. It was a stupid cover-up, he had tons of paper in his room already.

“Ahh, I see,” he mumbled before quietly stepping out of his room and closing the door behind him. You smiled at his acceptance to your invitation and walked back to Yuji’s room with Megumi trailing behind.

“… You’re new, right?” he asked, stuffing one hand in his pocket and using the free one to reach out to open the door for you.

You quickly thanked him, entering Yuji’s bedroom and hearing his screams. He must be in a practice game by now waiting for the both of you. The muffled sounds of gunshots and comms gave you enough context.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” you said playfully with a laugh, making your way inside and opting to sit on Yuji’s bed. Megumi trailed in and flopped onto the free chair next to Yuji, and continued to talk to you. “You seemed the type to be in his own world”

“Well, I am… But, I did,” he responded to you quietly with his eyes locked onto the screen. A faint ‘nice kill’ emerged from his lips as he watched Yuji’s fingers fly across the desk with his mouse, headshotting an opponent. His eyes flicked back to you in intervals and tapped the tips of his fingers on top of the desk. He cleared a lump in his throat before breaking the awkward silence between you two.

“So, why did you transfer here?— To this school I mean. Not in a rude way,” he stammered, briefly looking at your face and turned back to look at Yuji’s screen. He wanted so badly to crush his forehead into the wall.

“Came here from the Kyoto region, I think Gojo wanted me to be here,” you mumbled, watching Yuji completely get demolished in the game.

“If Gojo sees potential in you, you must seem like a well-adaptable individual,” he added, eyes still glued to the screen. “That being said— he also has the urge to take someone under his wing if you’re substantially adorable to him and are in need of his ‘educational expertise’… As so he would call it.”

You let out chuckle, letting your gaze wander to the two bodies haunched over the screen; Yuji, childishly hogging the keyboard even though he wanted Megumi to play with him, and Megumi, not caring in the slightest. As you looked at him, the subtle glance of your eye caught you off guard— He was already looking at you.

“What?” you mouthed at him, narrowing your gaze until he shakes his head. A hand comes up to gently rub his cheeks, covering the slight smile you didn’t see. The faintest hue of pink dusted his cheeks, reaching down to the column of his neck.

“Nothing.”

____________

AN; SYEREN here! been a while, how’ve you been? :3

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Cookies | Kim Hongjoong

-> Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

-> Request: No. This is a repost from my old account. It was from my Christmas celebration but it doesn't mention Christmas.

-> Synopsis: Baking cookies goes wrong.

-> Warnings: pure domestic bliss.

-> Word Count: 772

-> Requests: Open.

ATEEZ Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead.

Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong asks his girlfriend as he walks into the kitchen after hearing her let out a string of curse words. He’s unsure if he should have asked anything when he spots the tray of burnt cookies in on the kitchen counter.   

“I was trying to make cookies for our movie night and for you to take back to the dorms for the guys,” she rambles. When she looks at him defeated and about to give up, he steps in, grabs a tea towel and picks up the tray of burnt cookies. He makes his way over to the rubbish bin and tosses the cookies into it.  

“Let’s try again,” he says placing the tray back on the kitchen counter and rips off some baking paper from the roll lying beside the ingredients. “Where’s the recipe?”   

“I was going by memory of how eomma makes them,” she tells him, going through the ingredients.  

“Why don’t you just ask her for the recipe?” he asks looking over the ingredients.  

“I did have the recipe,” she admits with a sigh. “I lost it.”  

“How did you lose it?” He questions as he starts searching for the piece of paper covered in ingredients from all the other times she’s used it. When he can’t find it, he goes back to over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders he looks deep into her eyes. “We’ll just have to wing it. Are you willing to give it one more shot?”  

“Only if you help me,” she nods, feeling slightly better that he wasn’t making a big deal about the missing recipe and the last batch of burnt cookies.   

“That’s what I’m here for,” he says pulling her in for a hug and kisses the top of her head. “Now what’s the first step?” He says, moving to the sink to wash his hands.  

“2 cups of flour,” she says remembering that part clearly. She grabs the bag of flour and pours it into the measuring cup.   

While she does that, Hongjoong grabs the sieve and puts it over the bowl. Y/N then pours the flour into the sieve before measuring the next couple. Relief filled her when there’s just enough flour to fill the second cup. Hongjoong sifts the flour as she moves on the sugar and salt before moving on to soften the butter.  

An hour and a trip to the grocery store later, both Hongjoong and Y/N have batter smeared on their faces, their clothes are covered in flour, salt and sugar, two burnt batches of cookies are in the bin and they’re looking skeptically at the gloop that is meant to be cookie dough in the bowl.   

“I think we should ask your eomma for the recipe again,” Hongjoong scrunches his face up, feeling gross and in need of a shower. “I need a shower.”  

“I’ll call her tomorrow,” she agrees, feeling the same. “I have cookies in the cupboard we can have instead.”  

Hongjoong eyes widen as a look of frustration crosses his features. “Yah! Why have we been trying to make cookies this whole time?”  

“Homemade cookies always taste better than store bought,” she shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “And I thought it would be fun. And then you decided to help me out so I thought that could be even more fun. But I lost my eomma’s recipe and now we’re both a mess and have to use the store-bought ones,” she pouts slightly.   

Hongjoong lets out a breath. “Let’s clean this up, go shower, get into something comfier, and eat those store-bought cookies while watching a movie?”   

“Sounds good to me,” she agrees again.   

They quickly clean up and have a shower and get dressed into some pajamas. As Hongjoong makes them some hot drinks, Y/N grabs the chocolate chip cookies she has stored in her pantry. She takes them into the lounge, places them on the coffee table and takes the blanket hanging over the back of the couch and unfolds it.   

Hongjoong joins her in the lounge, carrying both cups of hot chocolate. He hands her cup to her once she’s settled on the couch and sits down next to her. She turns on the tv and finds a movie they both like to watch.   

“Thank you for helping me try to make cookies when you didn’t have to,” she rests her head on his shoulder, quietly thanking him a few minutes into the movie.   

“I had fun,” he smiles kissing the top of her head. “And I’d do it all over again. Let's just make sure we have the recipe next time.” 

TAGGING: @staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea

@rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie – @hollxe1

@laylasbunbunny – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things - @everythingboutkpop -

@trinxt

RED means I wasn't able to tag you or that your blog didn't come up when I tried to tag you (sometimes it happens after the post is posted - if that's the case please let me know if you got the notification). please make sure to check your settings. I have a post on my pinned post if you need help.

[bizlybebo]

jrwi headcannond

?

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY HII ANONNN

this is such an awesome fucking ask to get. ouguohigohoh i’m about to RAMBLE

plspls let me know if the post doesn’t minimize so i can add a “read more” thing i don’t wanna clog peoples dashes

I’ve really only watched PD and Riptide so. take these ^__^ (SPOILERS UP TO RIPTIDE EP109 AND UP TO PD S2 EP19)

Riptide:

- Chip tried to teach Gillion sign language, but he was very confused at first. He didn’t get it because signing “sun” didn’t make a literal sun, etc. He even thought they were magic spells/incantations at one point. Eventually, though, Gill finally understood them— most prominently, the sign for “I love you”. He signed it to Jay during that moment in ep 53, and Chip found the slightest bit of strength during that moment in 109 to curl two fingers in and sign “I love you” to his crew, with what he thought was the last of his strength.

- Mae (May?) Ferin has very curly hair, which was brown but greyed with age. Jay got the vibrant orange hair from her father, but in my brain she has the curls from her mother, and to me that symbolizes how she strikes a balance between being a Ferin and being her own person, following what her mother wants for her (which is just to be happy).

^^^(Ava Ferin had the same hair as her father. She was the spitting image of what a navy captain was meant to be. She was like a mini Jayson growing up.)

- All the Ferins have wings. That’s it. Jayson’s, Jay’s, Ava’s, etc. are white, slightly blue-ish feathers. Drey’s wings are brown and black. His wings are pretty out of shape now, he can’t really fly anymore, but he can still lift them enough to put them over Jay’s, or Ollie’s, or Finn’s shoulders, and it’s like a blanket. He does it to Earl sometimes just because Earl hates it lmao

- Gillion has very long hair and prides himself on all the ways he can braid it into the traditional styles of the Undersea. It’s a slightly different way of braiding than on the oversea, though, so he taught his way of braiding to Jay, who taught her way of braiding to him. They also taught Ollie. who does Drey’s hair for him and occasionally Chip’s if he can be convinced.

- Hair is also a very sacred thing in the Undersea— one only cuts their hair when they have lost a battle, and so long hair is very respectable. When Gill first was exiled to the Oversea, his hip-length hair got cut very short, up to his chin. It grew out gradually over the campaign, but he tried to cut it after the events of 53, only being convinced not to by Jay when she fully understood why he was doing it. Gillion prides himself very much on his hair.

- Jay is dyslexic. In the Feywild, during that one segment, she lost the ability to read because the magic was preying on one of her insecurities, in a sense. Dyslexic Jay the headcanon i truth most.

- Chip has mild apraxia. It’s real to me.

- Also all of albatrio has/had speech impediments cause I said so. Gillion has rhotacism, Jay has a stutter, and Chip had a lisp growing up which still slips out occasionally.

-Joke headcanon that slowly became real to me: Gillion did Chip’s top surgery in ep 15

Prime Defenders:

- MORE SPEECH IMPEDIMENT HEADCANONS CAUSE I LOVE PROJECTING !! Dakota has a lisp/stutter, and Ashe has a general speech disruption. Ashe also has selective mutism ^__^

- To me, Summer and Cantrip had an enemies to lovers sideplot in early to mid season 2. I think Doug probably mentioned how when he was a villain, he worked with this girl Cantrip, who was Ruby’s sister, and Summer got curious and was like “damn. I wonder where she is now” and sought her out to try and talk to her. And literally their early dynamic was Jade going “kys” and Summer being like “i can fix her!!!”

- Xavier and Jade are mlm wlw hostility. Summer and Doug are mlm wlw hostility. Not reaaaally a headcanon but i had to say it.

- William’s family was very religious growing up. He also came from one of those small, Southern hunting towns and so he has the accent and everything (moomin infected my brain with this one <3).

- The PD season 1 finale took place a few days before Halloween, and the four of them had matching costumes planned out together but never did get to wear them.

- Also, to me, the greyscale arc takes place on or very close to Christmas.

- Dakota didn’t really celebrate his birthday nor Christmas for many years because of how lonely those holidays got for him— he didn’t really get a very good birthday/xmas after the events of the Resurgence. However, Tide didn’t know this and got him a birthday gift once, and Dakota ugly cried while hugging him.

- Shockwave was transmasc. He means the world to me. (Also why Tide is such a good hashtag ally)

- Dakota is very scared of spiders for no apparent reason. Whenever they show up he jumps up onto a table or onto Ashe’s back and tries to fight it off with a broom. Ashe is the one who has to take care of it.

- Gender straight up Isn’t Real on Fauna. Vyncent is literally genderless but nobody asked him when he got to Prime so he literally just went along with being he/him’d and didn’t really mind. (this one’s from arachnid lmao)

- Doug and Summer are queerplatonic that’s it that’s the post

- Ashe is a natural blonde, just like Mark, but bleaches their hair. Everyone was fucking shocked to find out about this

- Lightspeed and Wordsmith are also mlm/wlw hostility. real and canon to me

this is literally just the first ones off the top of my head i have so many but i’ve been writing this post for nearly an hour so i think i’ll cut it off here ^__^

[damned-punk]

What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)

Part Five

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Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment

Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡

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You woke much later in the morning than usual, an indication of how drained you’d been from the turbulent night before. You were hesitant to reach for your phone, anxious as to what would be waiting for you. As you considered what seemed to be endless possibilities, your mind wandered to the conversation you’d had with Hip on the way home. In the clarity of a new day, you debated the efficacy of him leading you on and if you really had fallen victim to the wishful thinking that things were any different between the two of you than they’d been with his other partners.

Needing something to break you from the spiraling of your mind, you defaulted to checking your notifications. You weren’t exactly settled on your expectations, but hundreds of missed calls and texts from Kidd wasn’t what you’d imagined at all. It was obvious that many of them were sent while he was still inebriated, the overwhelming majority containing jumbled letters and parts of words with very little coherency. The most recent message was sent only a few hours prior, hoping that you’d made it home safely and that he felt like an ass for how he treated you.

It wasn’t the most refined apology, but it was an apology that was genuine by his standards. Much of your lingering anger had dissipated as you slept and while you didn’t want to relent so easily as his behavior was admittedly ridiculous, you also couldn’t deny the intensifying feeling of need as you thought about his innumerable attempts to contact you through the night. Resolving not to have the much needed discussion over text, you simply replied that you hoped he wasn’t too sick when he woke up. Not even a minute later, your phone buzzed in your hand with an incoming call from Kidd himself.

“Hey… Are you, uh… alright?”, his voice was gravely and sounded incredibly groggy.

“I’m fine.”, you tried to maintain at least a little bit of a chip on your shoulder, “I know that I at least feel better than you do.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucked up at the moment but that’s not why I called.”, he replied, carefully considering how he should address the obvious issue at hand, “I was wondering if you’d be alright with me coming over? I was such an asshole last night… We can talk about it or you can beat my ass, whatever’ll make you feel better.”

You did your best to stifle the giggle that broke past your lips. This wasn’t a laughing matter but you couldn’t deny that just talking to him with some semblance of normalcy was cathartic. You’d never experienced something like this before, the dichotomy of him exploding on you only to turn around and be so sweet about his indiscretions was clouding your judgement. He’d disrespected your boundaries and ruined what was supposed to be a fun night out which was cause for a much needed conversation about how something like that can never happen again, but you so desperately wanted to return to how great things were prior to the previous night.

“Alright, that’s fine.”, you replied simply, yearning for him to be at your doorstep already but not yet wanting your affection to be known, “Be careful and I’ll see you when you get here.”

He thanked you, which was admittedly comical, and ended the call to get himself presentable enough to face you. You waited for him very impatiently, an unwanted feeling of remorse creeping through your stomach as you thought over last night’s events for the thousandth time. His sudden change in demeanor was a lot to process and while you knew it was unacceptable, you found yourself making excuses for him. The situation was contextualized much differently after Hip informed you of what had happened with his last partner. You knew that he was interested you to at least some meaningful degree, but he could’ve very well still been struggling with grief.

You practically ran to the door when you heard knocking, pausing yourself for just a moment in an attempt to make it seem like you hadn’t been anticipating his arrival. Swinging the door open, you were greeted by a very fatigued Kidd. He’d brought pizza for the two of you with something wrapped very poorly in packing paper sitting on top of the boxes. His face softened when you greeted him, the sharpness of his golden eyes and the ghastly scars that littered his face were adorned in stark contrast to his expression. He wordlessly kicked off his shoes and placed the food on the small table sat just in front of your couch. When he turned back around, the two of you just looked at each other as he searched for any sign of emotion on your face.

He wasn’t used to this, especially not after having one of his blowups. He’d fully expected to walk into you telling him how much of a fuck up he was and how much better other people treated you. In fact, your calm demeanor was exponentially more anxiety inducing for him as he couldn’t gauge your thoughts or feelings. He was undoubtedly grateful that you’d even replied to him in the first place, but he was still waiting for what he’d resolved to be an inevitable fight. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the moment that you opened your arms to him, motioning your hands inward to signify that you wanted a hug. He was beyond floored and felt something akin to sadness plant an excruciatingly heavy weight in his chest. As his strong arms wrapped themselves around you, you rested your head against him to get as close as possible.

You felt your eyes begin to burn as you settled in his embrace and despite your best attempts to prevent yourself from being unnecessarily emotional, you sobbed against him. He felt even worse now than he did when he’d woken up and fully realized what he’d done, this was not at all what he’d imagined or prepared himself for. He took a few steps back and brought you both down to rest on the couch, feeling his own eyes begin to sting while he did his best to comfort you. Just as quickly as your tears had formed and fell, they subsided and your breathing returned to normal. As much as you relished being against him, you also didn’t want to suffocate him or overburden an already intense meeting. When you released your grip in order to sit up straight, he tightened his hold and peppered kisses to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). You didn’t deserve that… I don’t even know why the fuck I acted like that.”, he started to explain himself, all the while keeping you pressed against him, “It’s not an excuse… I think I drank too much, too fast. It hit me all at once and it was my own damn fault.”

“I’m sorry too, Kidd. I-“, you started to reciprocate, only to have him shush you.

“Don’t fuckin’ apologize, I’m the dickhead here.”, you couldn’t help but crack a grin at his choice of words, always rough but so characteristic of him, “You can slap me, punch me, whatever you feel like you need to do, I deserve it.”

“I don’t want to slap you and I don’t want to punch you, just hearing you apologize is enough.”, you tilted your head to face him, “Thank you for coming to talk, I was worried I’d never hear from you again after all of that… Let’s just move on from it.”

He stared down at you very intently, perplexed as to why you’d be so quickly forgiving of something so awful. It wasn’t like he wanted you to be upset and he certainly didn’t want to fight, but that was the only way these things had ever gone for him in the past. He wasn’t used to someone being so willingly accepting of his flaws and it was jarring. He sat up after a moment, retrieving the wrapped item that rested on the top of the pizza boxes.

“This is for you.”, he placed the haphazardly packaged item in your hands, “I wanted to do something a little more than just bringing food so I made it for you.”

As you unraveled the crumpled brown paper, a flower welded out of wire, nuts, and bolts slid into your hand. Your heart swelled as you pictured him hunkered over a workbench, sick from partying the night before but wanting to make something that he thought you’d like. You clutched the metal daisy and flung your arms around his neck, spontaneously kissing him on the lips as a way to show how much you loved his gift.

“It’s so cute, I love it so much.”, you praised, the reddening of his ears and cheeks not going unnoticed.

“It’ll never wilt.”, he commented while refusing to meet your eyes, embarrassed at how sappy his little visit had become, “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

You retrieved drinks and plates for the two of you, opting to put some music on to fill the silence in the room. As order returned to your relationship, you couldn’t help but compare Kidd’s actions to the warning Hip had given you. If he were really leading you on, why would he have gone as far as to spend time handcrafting you an item out of materials that would’ve otherwise been put to greater use in his work? Kidd sighed in contentment after getting full, pulling you away from the pit of your thoughts.

“I have a hard time dealing with things sometimes.”, he blurted out, slightly surprising you as you thought that part of the conversation was over, “I don’t really know what it is and I’m not trying to make excuses, I just fuckin’ struggle sometimes… I always know when it’s coming and I hate that feeling.”

“I hope that you never have to feel that way again but if you do, maybe you can let me know next time. I’d do anything that I could to help you through it… this might be a little soon and you don’t have to say it back, but I love you.”, you admitted to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable alongside him, “I don’t ever want something like that to be our end, I think I’d work through just about anything you needed us to.”

“Going all soft on me now, huh?”, he teased, not able to contain the prideful smile on his face as he squeezed you against him, “I love you too, (Y/N)… Thank you for this.”

“Ugh, quit thanking me and rub my back already.”, you teased next, wanting to continue lifting the heavy weight of the afternoon.

“Oh, I see how it is.”, he rolled his eyes while massaging his fingertips into your tense muscles, “You tell me you love me just to have me wrapped around your finger.”

“That’s right.”, you giggled, “So, did Killer have a good time?”

“Hell, he was sicker than I was this morning.”, Kidd laughed a bit, “He had a great time, but I don’t think he remembers much of it.”

As you relaxed underneath Kidd’s hands, head planted on his warm chest, you thought about the intense dissonance that separated your time with him the night prior and your time with him now. You couldn’t wait to wake up in his arms, reveling in his sleepy voice and messy hair. You loved those soft and insignificant moments with him, they might’ve been short lived but they always felt like you were seeing the core of Kidd as a person. Despite your undeniably strong affection for him, Hip’s concerns remained in the background. You fought against them and tried to push them away as the situation seemed to be bettering itself but a small, more logistical part of you begged to remind you of how quickly things could take a turn again.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.

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[thealogie]

The apparent nasty retarded critic here. Will send this in and likely unfollow.

Me and my colleagues had a theory recently that the British industry likes to categorize actors a bit too tightly, and the theatre lot are seen as quite serious and stuffy. It's a chip on their shoulder that they think Olivier winners think they are better than Bafta winners for no reason other than how the UK class system works.

I have literally heard people declare AS, MS, and DT will never be seen as movie stars because they are Shakespeare-types. That is why AS wasn't Bafta nominated this year, and they were so shocked he should be funny in Fleabag. This is why their minds were blown by Fiennes being funny in Hail Cesar and TGBH.

This probably doesn't make sense, but I am sure I will be heavily insulted for it, either way.

Dude you don’t have to use the R slur?! No one called you that. No one called you any name at all or said you don’t have a point. I simply said that’s an interesting insight into how the British industry thinks about actors but it does not quite strictly play out in the way I have seen actors awarded by the major British awards. How are you a critic if you can’t take mild disagreement.

Unless you’re also the person who described people having a fun discussion as people having “incipient aneurisms.” In which case you need to just find more fun and less aggro ways to express yourself or you will never have friends

[soldier-poet-king]

Actually the whole work thing would be infinitely less stressful if I actually knew how to navigate the white collar world and was not from a working class background and I have no idea how anything works because we were poor! No one in my family has done shit like this!

[spookyweaselbones]

I made a theme song for my dead fursona, and now I'm going to pay money for you to hear it.

[fadedflora]

i have not listened to hamilton in like a week why is he STILL HERE

read the tags if you want to see me talk about musicals for a little TOO long

[mrmallard]

I know the song Superman (It's Not Easy) by Five for Fighting is like metaphorically comparing the struggles of the narrator with that of Superman - being a figure who's expected to be seen as invincible and infallible, heavily implied to be like a new parent who wants to give their kid everything, but having struggles and anxieties that they wrestle with to provide that illusion and fill that mythical role. Yes, I am an immovable rock who will never shatter - but men weren't meant to fly with clouds between their knees. I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane. Even heroes have the right to bleed.

But it works so well because it's such a great portrait of Superman himself. He too is only a man. He dreams. He's bold and heroic and fantastic, but he understands the frailty of human life and he knows that he's just one guy trying his best. He's just as much the man in the song as he is the figure who the figure is comparing himself to.

He does a lot of good, but he's still Clark Kent, the man who reminisces fondly about his deceased dad. He's Clark Kent, the guy who gets along with Lois Lane and who would take both halves of the world and hold them together under the sheer magnitude of his strength if it were falling apart around her. Now, he could probably physically do that - but it's the weight of how he feels about her that matters. It's something he shares with all of us at our most idyllic selves, with the fantastical element of actually being able to make good on his promise if he needs to - but he's still Clark Kent, the man. He still worries, and regardless of his supernatural ability to help them if he absolutely needs to, he still fiercely wants the people he loves to be okay.

Everything that makes Superman special is - for the last labored lyrical reference in this Tumblr post - the special things he's looking for inside of himself. He works as the impossible figure of a hero that a person might always strive to meet, to keep his family happy and comfortable and safe while keeping up the facade, but CLARK KENT IS ALSO THE GUY. HE'S A GUY. HE'S GOT A HEART PUMPING BLOOD AND EVERYTHING THAT'S AWESOME ABOUT YOU AND ME.

So like the song is a great case study of a man trying to live up to impossible standards and become infallible, which is fallacious and impossible by the narrator's own admission due to the human flaws that are screaming to come out against his efforts to be that sort of figure, but it's an outstanding case study of Superman as the man and the myth. The pretty face beside a train and the guy who acknowledges that men like him aren't meant to fly above the clouds.

And the weight to which I feel that this song exemplifies the duality of Superman so well is only exacerbated by the 10+ years of "what if someone killed Lois Lane and Superman became a fascist", or "what if Superman actually wasn't Superman but was actually Casual Murder Is Okay Man because real people would actually Commit Mass Murder if they were Superman", in almost every significant cultural depiction of Superman.

Like yeah, Evil Superman is a cool concept. But that's all he is to most people nowadays. If Evil Superman existed, who's SO MUCH COOLER and MORE INTERESTING than 1950's NUCLEAR FAMILY BOYSCOUT SUPERMAN, how would BATMAN have to KILL HIM????? Would he drop a KRYPTONITE MOON on him?????? It feels like that's all anyone says or feels about Superman any more.

So like, the song Superman (It's Not Easy) by Five for Fighting maybe isn't meant to be a commentary on the duality of Superman. Superman is explicitly a reference point, the narrator compares his efforts and struggles with the huge feats that Superman accomplishes despite the very human doubts and shortcomings that comes with being a guy in uncharted water who's just trying to do his best - but it's not explicitly "the guy is Clark Kent". It's just a metaphor for this regular-ass dude to vent his insecurities about being a supportive figure despite his insecurities. The comparison is invited, but it's not Literally a song about Clark Kent's relationship between himself and his persona of Superman. I'd even say that this is explicitly not the case.

But viewing it as being a comment on the duality of Superman, it's still one of the most cohesive and straightforward depictions of the guy in the last 20-ish years. It is a superb fucking song.

[alectoperdita]

I wanna protect everyone who's still willing to draw joukai art in this day and age while braving how it's increasingly the fandom black sheep ship and tumblr's shitty reblogging drought

[selkiecoded]

okay thats interesting! in the SF try-outs during the song "legally blonde" she sings about how she cant be legally blonde, while in the official version AND THE DEMO she sings about letting her be legally blonde. which means that at some point they changed the lyrics around, and then changed them back! laurence o'keefe.... nell benjamin.... what occurs in your twisted minds

[merge-conflict]

resolve

content warning: reference to drug use

The penthouse suite Kerry had secured was ridiculously preem, and so clean that Johnny felt creeped out just being in it after so long on the road. At the very least it wasn’t the same sort of two-toned minimalist nightmare that every rich corpo on earth seemed to favor, kitted out instead in what he thought might be actual wood, with some mix of red, blue, and green that felt positively medieval when looking out over a desert city screaming with neon. It was the air that really unnerved him– at least two or three degrees lower than any normal human could possibly want, and dry as a bone. He’d have preferred some dive where he at least understood how to operate the thermostat, but he’d been overruled on every side, and now they were shacked up in the second highest tower in Vegas with Alt already cozy inside the hotel’s network.

V had disappeared the moment they’d arrived, although that wasn’t hard to do in the maze of tiny little rooms. Johnny followed his instincts and found her not too far from the server closet where Alt had stashed Smasher. She was looking out the window that made up one entire wall, ignoring him even though she always kept tabs on anybody in a hundred foot radius with her freaky little network powers.

“Hey,” he called. “You still giving me the silent treatment?”

She didn’t even turn her head. “You’ve been the one avoiding me.”

“Yeah, well you haven’t exactly been easy to be around.”

“Drop dead.”

“C’mon–“ She didn’t resist when he slipped an arm around her waist, bracing herself as he leaned into her. “You still mad?”

Considering the last time they’d been this close she’d broken his nose, he’d expected at least a little resistance, but V just turned into him for a full body hug and buried her face in his neck. Figuring that was a pretty unambiguous way to say no, he pulled her in closer– a gesture which she returned so strongly that for a while he could barely breathe. She was useless when she tried to speak like this, so he petted her hair and waited for her to relax.

Finally she did, raising her head just enough so they were cheek to cheek. “Where’s Kerry?”

“Still out with the paparazzi.”

It had been her idea for him to publicly blame Arasaka for harassing him. She seemed to think that they’d back off while they were still trying win the pre-war publicity contest, but frankly it all sounded gonk to him. Still, it wasn’t like they could avoid Arasaka satellites forever, and it probably would keep Kerry a little safer. Not that he was going to let his guard down.

“Okay,” V said, in the tone meant everything was not okay, and was in fact bad enough for her to admit it.

“Okay?” he echoed, a little wary.

“He sent me a message.” Her voice was devoid of all emotion, which was another bad sign. Even worse, when he realized who she meant by he. “A long one. I haven’t read it.”

“Good.” He stepped a little further in against her, so they weren’t just hugging but standing as close as they could be without occupying the same space. “Anything he really wanted to say to you he could have done to your face.” And it was a good thing Takemura was such a fucking coward, or else it would have been nigh impossible to pry V away from a short-lived career trying to convince that porcelain bitch what a good asset she was. Not that he was going to give that bag of bolts any credit.

“I didn’t exactly tell him I was leaving.”

“Forget about him.”

V exhaled sharply. “Sure.”

It was always impossible for him to tell what was going to set her off, so Johnny elected not to reply. It was hard not to– he had plenty to say. But he scratched gently at her scalp and ran his fingers over the back of her neck until she had all but melted into him.

“You were right,” he said, begrudgingly. Not what he’d planned to come here and say, but it was what she needed to hear and less dangerous than arguing. “About not throwing it all away.”

She laughed, and it only sounded a little damp. “Of course I was.”

“Yeah, well. Goes for you too.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She nuzzled against him. “Guess we’re still stuck with each other.”

“Guess so.”

“I hate you for making me choose,” she said, in a sudden rush. Her grip on him tightened, and he knew from experience that she wanted to hit him. She wasn’t going to, but she wanted to. “Hate you.”

The words stung more than he wanted to admit. “No you don’t.”

“I should.”

“Why?”

“I should,” she repeated, pressing her face back into his neck. He only felt the one tear, but it was scorching hot as it was rolled under his collar. It reminded him of how cold it was, and how nice it was to feel her warmth.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m still mad?”

“You aren’t.”

“Not the point.”

“Are you still mad?”

“A little.” He wished he was angrier. She’d fucked with his head just to get what she wanted, and now here she was sobbing into his shoulder.

V sighed, and turned to kiss his jaw. “I’m not sorry.”

“Of course not.”

He squeezed her a little tighter and let his head fall on her shoulder– and only because he knew she wouldn’t get spooked. Just the opposite, in fact, as she ran her fingers through his hair and rubbed little circles on his neck that made him shiver.

Maybe he should have been angrier with her, for turning him into the kind of sap that wanted nothing more than to stand there with her in his arms and feel her heart beat against his chest. She’d infected him. Turned him soft– and yet it was hard to resent just now. Hell, sometimes he wished he could just crawl back under her skin: feel the buzz of her contentment, the sharp high of her satisfaction. V never looked at him and wished he was someone else.

“You know what we should do?” she murmured. “I think we should do a little exploring and then get really, exceptionally high.”

He laughed, despite himself. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

[chipistrate]

I'm spinning Sonic Movie 3 around in my brain I understand these guys I get them (the movie isn't out yet)

[blueberryspyder]

After binging The Magnus Archives for exactly two weeks straight it is officially all I can think about. Not even my previous Baldurs Gate 3 obsession can compare. Maybe it’s because it’s strictly a tragedy (which gets my emo little English literature nerd heart spiraling), maybe it’s because the idea of categorizing characters by their fears/what fear they’d be an avatar for is deeply fascinating to me.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s because Tim Stoker has a fucking choke grip on me and I’m failing to escape the “wump lover” accusations once again