#but I just thought I'd throw it out there

[jkslipppiercing]

Horny For My Bestie | Jeon JK | Oneshot

☆ Synopsis: Your best friend, jungkook, is dared to take a Viagra pill at a party. He's horny for his bestie...in this case, you.

☆ Genre: Smut, angst, EXPLICIT CONTENT!!, JK'S POV

☆ Pairing: Bsf!oc, horny!jk.

☆ Warnings: honestly just a loooot of smut, Jungkook is horny out of his damn mind, horny thoughts, angst, dirty talk, oc cries during sex, oral (f receiving), spanking, a lot of kissing (duh), penetrative sex, unsafe sex (be safe out there x), he cums inside her, bitch idk what else just read it and find out 😜 oh yeah dry humping, animalistic fucking, shit like that

☆ WC: 8.5K

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a/n: AHHHHHH it's finally here!! this is my longest fic yet so.i hope you enjoy it. im so so so excited everyone support and show love!! i love you all ♡

-UNEDITED

Her lips move, but i'm not listening.

She looks at me expectantly, like though she's waiting for a response.

Had she just spoken to me right now?

Because, not to be one of rude mannerisms, I couldn’t give a shit if I wanted to.

My body's on fire. Heat pulses through ny veins and my cock visibly throbs, and her bare thigh peeking out from the slit of her tiny dress isnt helping.

it's a given rule, not to be sexually drawn to your best friend.

I shouldn't see her this way.

I shouldn’t picture her lips sloppily sucking around me just because theyre swollen and inviting. Red and fucking attracting the hell out of my attention.

I shouldn’t picture her under me.

Above me.

On me.

Fucking hell.

Im aware of the sweat trickling down my temple.

Im highly aware of how uncomfortable I’d make her feel if I tried to adjust my seating position.

The raging hard-on would be hard to conceal if I tried to move a sliver of an inch.

Fuck, im horny.

Horny for her.

Thanks to fucking Viagra falls and Kim Fucking Taehyung.

Damn him.

the party music’s bass still rings in my ears, a reminder of how loud and chaotic taehyung’s parties always are. It breaches the peaceful silence one would usually experience sitting in a car half past midnight.

I’d picked my best friend up earlier this evening so we could go there together.

It was a weekly taehyung frat party. The usual.

The dress she chose to wear hugs her curves nicely, her makeup simple, but complimenting her features. High heels adorn her feet and that fucking dress adorns my conscience.

The tiny slit.

Tiny, tiny, little, slit.

She shifts her feet, and the dress hikes up higher.

The viagra I'd been dared to take just a little over half an hour ago had taken effect pretty harshly on my body.

My poor, poor body.

Stray strands of my hair are sticking to my forehead, my cock is growing harder by the second, and my heartbeat is beating faster than I could fucking breathe.

I cant even breathe properly.

And the damn sex appeal goddess sitting across from me in my car’s passenger seat is not making it any easier.

We’ve been sitting in this car for I don’t know how long, after I'd called out for her and asked her to leave, and drove us both to my apartment.

She didn’t look at me long enough then to notice all the distress literally draping over my body and ambushing it like a blanket, so she just obliged by my request, following me away and to my car.

Should I tell her? About the viagra?

Would it be weird?

Of course it’d be weird, you dumbass.

She’d probably be uncomfortable.

Fuck, since when was she so damn irresistible?

Fuck, just make out with me already.

Fuck, wanna fuck?

FUCK.

I’d love to fuck.

“kook.” she moans.

No she does NOT.

She didn’t moan. She just asked. But I’d love to hear her moan. When I ease into her and start fucking her with slow, languid strokes…I'd fucking love to hear that voice moan for me. For my cock.

Is she the loud type? Would she scream? Whimper? Cry?

My cock twitches, hardening by the second. It’s almost painful at this point, the viagra pumping in my veins and throwing my head in a frenzy.

Fuck, I literally want to fuck the shit outta her.

My eyes snap back to her eyes, cheeks growing red when I notice I’ve been staring at her thighs.

Great.

Now I look like a perverted asshole.

“sorry,” took me too long to respond.

Dammit.

I try to adjust my position, throwing an arm over my crotch to cover the raging hard-on. Casually.

Almost too casually, apparently, because that catches her attention.

She bats her eyelashes once at me, in what seems to me a mix of perplexity and frustration.

Same. Im also frustrated out of my mind.

But apart from that, im disappointed.

Almost angry, even.

I love y/n. as a fucking friend. Not literally. I mean, at the moment, I’d love to fuck her-

Ive said that too many times, havent i?

Anyway, she’s a friend. A really good friend. A best friend.

I always had a deep care towards her, always felt the need to be there for her just as she was for me.

So that proves the point as to why im damn disappointed in myself.

When I took that viagra pill, I hadn’t expected to be so drawn to her. I never saw myself thinking- more accurately, fantasizing- about her this way.

She’s comfortable. Platonic.

I thought it wasn’t a big deal. Thought I'd get myself a one night stand and satiate the horniness I'd feel when I took the damn pill. Call y/n a cab and go back home with a hooker on my dick.

I almost cringe.

But instead of doing just that? I panicked and looked for her. Searched the crowds for her. Called out for her and asked her to come with me.

I thought it was a good idea to take her to my car. Drive her to my apartment. Where I live alone. At half-passed midnight.

My thoughts were driven by her, seeming to believe that I’d calm down if I set my eyes on her.

I was the biggest dumbass.

Here I fucking am, horny out of my mind, for my best friend of all people.

I want her as a friend. No…need. I need her as my friend.

And lord help me, I'm horny for my bestie.

“was distracted.” I clear my throat, scratching at my nape awkwardly.

“why are you blushing?” there's the slightest hint of amusement in her tone, curiosity clouding her soft irises.

“me? Blushing?” I snort. I don’t blush. What a stupid question to ask.

Instead of verbally replying to me, she shifts her eyes rapidly towards the rear view mirror then flicks them back to me, as if telling me to ‘see for myself’.

I do just that, and all earlier amusement is replaced with embarrassment when I realize that, fuck, I am blushing.

Im fucking blushing.

My cock hurts.

Im sweating.

Discomfort swirls in my mind.

Horniness clouds my vision.

She laughs at me expression, which only deepens my frustration.

Only when I remain stoic, does her laugh die down. She looks to be confused once again, probably because she’s not used to me being so serious.

Usually, we’d laugh it off. We make fun of anything and everything, even sometimes each other.

So for her to burst out laughing and me not to join her?

that’s weird for us.

Honestly, she has a right to be confused.

Never once since I had met y/n had I seen her in the light im seeing her in right now.

Naked.

Choked.

Ruined.

Fucked.

My eyes glue to her lips and I can’t seem to tear my gaze away.

I cant help it.

Im not even aware im doing it.

How would they feel? Soft?

Would she kiss slow, soft, and passionate?

Or rough, hard, and hungry?

When I remain silent and tense, she speaks with even more evident amusement.

“if you wanna kiss me, you could just ask…” she trails off into another light laugh.

Okay, she’s trying to lighten up the mood.

Except, my eyes cant help but flutter shut at the image of her lips on my own with her on my lap. Grinding on my lap. Moaning into my mouth. Smiling against my lips.

My cock fucking hurts.

This time, when I pull my eyebrows together and pinch my nose bridge in exasperation, she doesn’t let it slide.

Her brows pull in their own adorable frown as she eyes me weird.

She’s trying to read me, I realize.

She opens her mouth, but I beat her to it.

“don’t say things like that.” Just above a hard whisper. my cock throbs and I have to lean my head against the headrest. I face forward, not wanting to torture my poor dick any longer by looking at her. “not to me, y/n.”

I cant fucking breathe.

My eyes hooded and on the dark, moonlit sidewalk facing the forefront of my apartment, I try to calm my breathing.

In…out…in…out…

Nope.

Not working.

“relax.” She's growing irritated.

Good.

Maybe then she'd leave so I can stop myself from doing something I'd regret.

Except im parked in front of my building in my car.

And it’s way too late for her to go back to her place alone.

I almost scoff at how ridiculous that sounds.

y/n? alone? On the streets? Wearing that?

Fuck no.

I cant relax.

“you went quiet again.” Huh?

I turn my neck to her, head still on the headrest.

She reads the question in my eyes, “you wandered off. Again. You’ve done it multiple times by now.” She mumbles.

Shit.

Well, I cant just tell her Im horny out of my mind for her.

Instead, I say, “just got something on my mind. A little distracted.”

“but you’re never distracted like this, jungkook.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means you're giving me excuses.” She speaks louder now, more clearly. “you chew on your bottom lip when you're distracted. Your eyes grow doe and wide, giving you a ‘deer in the headlights’ type of look. You run your hands through your hair too many times, as well.”

Ignoring the flutter in my chest because ‘damn, she noticed all those things about me?’, I stare at her in question. “so?”

“so, you’re not distracted. Something's obviously wrong and you’re not telling me.” She lets a hint of frustration slip through. “you seem angry. Irritated. Your hand's clenching around the wheel so hard, your knuckles are white.”

I loosen my hold, now realizing I am.

“your eyes arent round and thoughtful. Theyre hard and hooded. You havent ran your hands through your hair once- and you even scratched your neck.”

“look-“

“you’ve been doing that tongue thing with your cheek for the last twenty minutes!”

Throwing her hands around the cramped space of the car in exasperation, her voice raises.

My mouth opens only to close again.

She’s left me speechless, and fuck, I want her even more badly than ever before.

I panic.

It’s between picking her up and taking her up to my bedroom, or finding a way to get her out of here…fast.

“take my keys.” I remove my car key from the ignition, opening her palm and closing it around it. “drive to your apartment.”

She gapes at me.

“I’ll take a taxi to yours and get the car back tomorrow morning. Or you can come pick me up and we'll figure something out. Call if anything happens.”

I grab my jacket from the backseat, discreetly concealing my crotch with it as I hop out of the car.

The cold night's breeze smacks my cheeks harshly, giving me a weird type of relief.

I relish the distraction from my thoughts for as long as possible as I walk to the building without looking back.

If I turn around and find her staring at me, she’ll be sore and begging by tomorrow morning.

Limping to the bathroom to wash my cum off.

I shake my head at my immaturity.

Get a godforsaken grip.

Except when im just about taking the first steps toward the apartment building, I hear my passenger car's door open and close, with the clanking of high heels against asphalt reaching my ears.

y/n halts in front of me when I remain frozen in place, and all I can do is curse under my breath at the absurdity of the situation.

“what you're doing is unfair.” With her head held high, she cranes her neck back to stare at me.

She’s hella irritated.

And frustrated.

Again, bestie, same.

“go home, y/n.” or else I'll do something that we’ll both regret.

“or what?”

Or I’ll ruin our friendship.

But I don’t say that.

“why am I expected to just listen?” her voice hardens with distaste. “you’ve ruined my night.”

“ruined your night?” I can’t help the dry tone that bleeds into the rasp of my voice into the cold night air.

“I met this guy, you know.” She laughs, but it’s humorless. Sad. I use her tone to distract myself, knowing that if I dwelled on what she had just said too much, I was gonna bury that “guy” six feet under by tomorrow. “it was going well. Thought I had a chance with him.” Like hell she did.

A muscle in my jaw ticks.

She averts her gaze to look at the concrete beneath us, only to stare up at me with resignation.

“but then you came. You happened. You grabbed my wrist and told me to come with you. I didn’t ask, and here we are.”

My eyes soften.

“tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“okay.”

Her eyes brim with hope.

“yeah?”

Fuck. Me.

“yeah. Let’s go up first. I cant have you freezing under my watch.”

She nods before a rough shiver racks her body, as if she’d just now realized how cold the night air kissing her cheeks really is.

Considering my still rock-hard cock and painful arousal, I can’t put my jacket on her. I cant give it to her, because then she’d see. Im already burning the hell up and am profusely sweating, which im sure she notices.

She’s been eying me with curiosity for a while now, trying to figure out what actually is wrong with me.

I don’t blame her.

Shivers relentlessly rack her body as her hair blows with the wind.

So I sling an arm over her shoulders and rub her arm with my hand, desperate for some sort of friction to warm her up, leading us both into and up the building to my apartment.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, y/n walks in quietly behind me.

It’s unnerving.

She hasn’t said a thing.

Yet.

Oh, boy. Here we go.

“Y/n-“

As soon as I turn around, her lips are moving in the softest rhythm imaginable.

She speaks and those bright pink pillows move, and the horny haze blocking my sight highlights her lips’ movements.

My cock pulses when she bites her lip.

What the fuck.

My eyes remain focused on her lips- and yes, im aware of how uncomfortable that must make her feel- even as she sways with a half-step.

She rubs her palms together, and when she looks up at me with innocent eyes and a sheepish smile?

I want to ruin her.

If she lets me…nothing about this night is going to end up “innocent”.

My eyes darken when I realize what she had just said.

“I noticed your boner, like, twenty minutes ago.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I close it right back when I don’t find anything to say.

Im at a loss for words.

Fuck, her lips are so soft. And swollen. And soft.

So fucking soft.

Focus, asshole.

Her lips tip up in an attempt of making me smile along with her, but all she gets in return is a grumpy scowl.

Not gonna lie, if I wasn’t such a horny prick right now? I wouldve laughed with her.

But now, all I could do is scowl in response.

Which makes her almost-smile fall.

I didn’t scowl at her. I scowled at the boner.

But she doesn’t know that, asshole.

Kill me now.

She clears her throat. “I also…um…” well that’s unlike her. “I saw you take that viagra thing. You know…the thing that made you so horny you’re scowling at me.”

Now that makes me snort. Loudly.

She laughs with me.

I almost forget my aching cock at the sight of her smile.

“so what happens now?”

“let me kiss you.”

We both speak at the same time, and my eyes widen in sync with hers.

Her mouth hangs open, and I look away in embarrassment.

Why the fuck is she eying me like that?!

What did she expect?

I’m horny.

She's here.

Doesn’t need a genius to piece it together.

Or maybe im an idiot who shouldn’t have thought about it that way.

But im also an idiot who took a viagra pill for a dare.

Im so horny I'd fuck a wall, for fuck’s sake!

I rake a hand through my hair in frustration…and something that achingly resembles resignation.

My cock hurts, man.

I’m sick of this shit.

“what?” I bite out.

She continues to gape at me.

My eyes droop low and slowly go over her dress.

My patience simmers on high heat as my anger almost boils over.

It’s either she gets the fuck out of my sight or she puts me out of my misery.

She's a goddess I’d be on my knees to worship in a heartbeat.

I can think of a lot of ways I can worship the effort she put into this goddamn dress.

I’m willing to fucking beg.

I am.

“you want to kiss me?”

Well, no shit, Sherlock. Didn’t she hear me zay exactly that?

“yes, y/n, I want to kiss you.” I snap impatiently.

Maybe if I wasn't in physical pain I wouldn't be such a prick.

When her eyes gloss over and she avoids eye-contact, there’s this prickly feeling that something’s on her mind.

“what is it?” I ask, making sure to soften my tone.

She shakes her head.

Fuck no.

I step closer to her, forgetting about my cock for the sake of communication, and swipe the hair barricading the frame of her face to tuck behind her ear.

Her neck remains craned down in an awkward situation, and im incredibly aware of how clear of an image she has of my boner.

She doesn't make fun of it, though.

She just stares at it, which kind of makes me uncomfortable.

So to get her to stare at my eyes, instead, I hook my index finger under her chin and lift her face up.

Her eyebrows pinch in a confused frown and her lips push forward in an adorable question.

I stroke her chin with my thumb.

What? It just feels right.

“ask.”

“what?”

“I know you want to ask me something. You always go quiet when you do.”

She tries to avoid my gaze again, but I pinch her chin firmly, keeping her right where I want her to be.

She looks up at me, and fuck.

Those eyes.

“I know im being kind of an asshole.” She hums and I chuckle. “but don’t let that get to your head. Im also your best friend.”

She smiles.

“your very horny best friend.”

She breathes out a soft laugh.

“so, as your best friend, please tell me what is it?” I reason with her. she's always been this stubborn. Wont ever tell me what’s on her mind unless I pry. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

It’s like I can feel her resolve melt right in front of my eyes.

My pretty little y/n. all she needs is pretty words and empty promises to give in.

The reminder of the guy she met tonight sneaks back into my conscience, along with the tiny slit of the dress she was wearing.

High heels and high ponytails.

Sex, money, feelings.

I cant help but physically weaken at the thought of someone else touching her like this.

Their hand on her chin tilting her face up. The way she simply obliges by the movement and shows no intention of rebellion against it.

Fuck…what if she had refused to come with me tonight?

Would she have fucked him?

Should I even care?

“do you want to fuck me because im the only available option?”

The words are out of her mouth one second, and by the next, my lips are on hers’.

I kiss her with feverish dreams.

I kiss her with a hard cock.

I kiss her with a passion I had no idea of possessing.

Fuck, I kiss her.

I slip my tongue in her mouth with a moan.

I revel in the way her breath stops when I slide it against hers’.

I smile when she bites my lip for a stance of dominance.

Except I know for a fact that if I wanted to, I could have her punished and writhing for my cock in a minute.

I kiss her.

And she kisses me back.

When she scratches against my scalp and pulls at the strands of my hair, arching her back against me, I'm hit with the sudden realization of her earlier question.

She wants me to be attracted to her.

Desperately.

She’s kissing me- devouring my lips, even- pushing and pulling and arching her body against mine because she wants me to want her.

Dare I even say, she wants me to want her as much as she does me.

She wants me.

y/n desperately wants me.

The best friend I’ve known for years has been yearning for my touch, and I’ve been oblivious to it.

Stupid motherfucker.

My cock restrains when I slide my hands over her body, holding everything I can reach, but staying respectful. I inch toward the curve of her ass, but stop.

My hands barely graze the round of her breast, but I don’t go further.

Because I don’t know that she wants me. It’s a deducted conclusion, yet not a fully proven one.

Im giving her a chance to back down.

I rest my hands on her waist, and push her body closer to mine, craning my neck and giving in to the kiss deeper.

She bites my lip again, pulling it with her teeth and my eyes almost roll back at the feeling.

I'm torturing myself.

My cock aches for release and my body calls for her.

Yet, I just cant get enough of her damn lips.

She pulls away- reluctantly- with wide eyes and a crazed expression.

All swollen lips and smudged lipstick.

I almost whimper.

“wait.” She blinks away and I can almost feel her mind drift off.

She disentangles her body from mine and runs her hands through her hair, as if trying to regain a semblance of control over herself.

“hey.” Calling out softly, I reach out for her, for some of her.

I want her so fucking badly.

She doesn’t reply, only taking a step back and shaking her head.

My hand falls.

I push away my horny thoughts for a second.

Is that…regret I see on her face?

“y/n.” I call out again, mind swirling harder and only growing more drowsy by the second.

“you just kissed me.”

“I did.”

“why?”

What's that supposed to mean?

“because I wanted to?” my confusion is palpable.

“you didn’t answer my earlier question.” She doesn’t look at me.

She doesn’t look at me and my heart near sinks.

What question?

“do you want to fuck me because im the only available option?”

Oh. That.

“what?” is all I can say.

I don’t know what to say.

“you want to fuck me, right?” she doesn’t fucking look at me.

Why wont she look at me?

My shoulders tense and my eyebrows knot.

Would that be such a crime? Us fucking?

Apparently so, to miss y/n.

I thought she wanted me?

Guess I was wrong.

“yes.” I do.

“why?”

“what the fuck do you mean, y/n?” I cant help the rough edge that bleeds into my tone.

I thought we were getting somewhere.

She let me kiss her.

“why do you want to fuck me?”

“because I want to?”

I take a step closer, and she takes one back.

What the fuck?

“you’ve taken a sex pill, jungkook.” And?

I stay silent.

“that pill makes you horny.”

I hum impatiently, urging her on.

“we’ve been best friends for seven years, and you just now want to fuck me and do things to me?”

A sadistic chuckle rips out of my chest. I feel my heart bleed, but I try to shift the feeling to ice in my veins.

Except white hot lust is literally pumping through my system, and it’s with great effort that im able to contain my impulse.

Oh, and, by the way?

Pretty eyes still won't look at me, and it makes my blood boil.

Fucking boil, I tell you.

Would I pull her close and tell her to voice her insecurities if I didn’t want her?

If I didn’t care for her?

Would I kiss her?

“you’re not answering me, jungkook.”

Her eyes are not on mine and im panicking.

Does she think im using her?

“you wanna know why I want to fuck you?”

At my ice cold tone, she finally looks up.

And when I begin my stride toward her slowly cowering frame, she goes on with taking retreating steps.

“why I want to ruin you?”

Another step closer, met with another step back.

“why I want to hear your scream my name?”

I can see her clench her legs together, and when she bumps against the wall with a shiver, all I can do is laugh bitterly.

The predator and prey trance ceases when I halt in front of her with both hands against the wall on either side of her head.

Im caging her in, and she's shivering underneath my scrutiny.

It does little to satiate the inhumane sadistic urges containing me.

“tell me why.”

My hand slides down, down, down, until I find the curve of her hip and firmly hold my hand there.

“you don’t get to call the shots.” A squeeze at her hip. “not here,” my neck drops until my breath is met with the curve of her ear. I let my voice deepen into a rasp when I come dangerously close to the lobe of her ear. “not now.”

Her breath hitches, and when I step between her legs and pull her body flush against mine, all she's able to do is gasp.

My hand’s on her waist, arching her back as she’s pressed against me. The feeling of my thigh against her heat is driving me farther than insane.

I can feel the slick between her thighs on mine, wetness seeping through her panties and onto my jeans. I’m sure she can feel my rigid outline through my slacks, because she has the audacity to shift her thigh so that it connects with my arousal.

A little harsher contact than usual.

I cant help but hiss.

Everything she does now is ten times more heightened, but im not sure she knows that.

When I move my thigh toward her core in return, she grinds back onto it.

A small whimper graces my ears.

“now who’s being needy?” a humorless chuckle.

Belittling.

Humiliating.

But she couldn’t care less as she breathlessly moans in return and starts to ride my thigh.

Pathetic.

Turns me on.

I press my thigh even farther up her core as confirmation.

She moans louder this time, the sound like music to my ears.

“still wanna know the answer to your stupid question?” I smirk against her ear with a slight lilt of tease in my voice, knowing if she wasn’t riding high on a wave of pleasure, she would’ve- without a doubt- smacked me or poked my rib playfully.

But the thing is, she can’t.

She closes her eyes, frantically growing more needy with every bump and grind of her pussy against my clothed thigh.

She’s close when she gasps and clutches my bicep for support.

“not so easy.” I take her moment of vulnerability as payback for what she’s had me go through tonight.

Im in physical pain.

And im damn willing to make her suffer.

She audibly whines when I completely pull myself away from her, taking a victorious step back.

I just robbed her of her orgasm.

Ha.

“what the fuck?” she grows defensive now, coming nose-to-nose with me as she gets all in my face.

Cute.

My smile’s wolfish.

That only irritates her more, and I honest-to-god expect her to punch me right here and now…

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she lets out a huff- a fucking adorable one- and stalks off.

She hastily grabs her purse and shoves a hand in it, seemingly searching for her phone.

My smile instantly drops.

“what are you doing?” distaste.

She doesn’t answer me.

In an instant, she’s shoving the door open and the next, im walking over to her, pushing the door closed and turning her around.

Calmly.

I have no fleeting idea how the fuck I managed to keep myself controlled.

I pin her against the wooden door with a hand on the side of her neck and another on her middle.

“when I ask you a question,” my head dips down and I gently graze my nose against her jaw. “you answer it.”

She shoves me, clutching my shirt and crumpling it when she tries to push me away.

But her body does otherwise.

She arches against me and her breathing grows ragged.

She’s almost as turned on as I am, her nipples pebbled and hard through the sheer material of the dress.

So when she pushes me away, I remain rooted in place with a mocking smile on my lips.

“no.”

“no?” she echoes, infuriated and almost resigned.

A low hum reverberates as my confirmation.

“why?” she asks so quietly I strain to hear her, even through our very close proximity.

I can hear her heartbeat racing.

But it’s not even close to the rate of mine.

“because I want you.” A rough whisper.

A vulnerable confession.

“then kiss me.”

She wont have to ask me twice.

When my lips finally reconnect with hers’ in a dreamy haze, she kisses me back with insane need.

Im afraid once I start, I wont be able to stop.

Im not even sure I would want to.

Her purse falls to the floor as she circles her arms around my neck, pulling me down and further into the poison that is her.

She’s a drug.

And count me fucking addicted.

She bites my lower lip and tugs, shamelessly drawing blood and fuck if this girl will be able to walk tomorrow.

“I want you.”

I pull away as much as she allows me to, but my lips are barely off of hers’ and on her throat before she grabs my face and makes out with me again.

All I can do is moan into the dream that is her mouth in return.

She tries to take her heels off- failing miserably with her growing more preoccupied with my mouth by the second.

I groan impatiently and bite her lip, tasting her with my tongue and never getting enough it.

Her whimpers and my grunts get lost somewhere along our undying need for each other.

“up.” She jumps at the command, legs latching onto my middle which I catch and hold on to.

Our mouths remain one as I carry us both to my bedroom.

Fuck me if I aint taking this seriously.

Ive been wanting this girl for I don’t know how long, been in denial for even longer.

How could anyone not want her?

Her hair, her lips, her body, her eyes, her nose, her damn lips.

Those fucking lips.

My end, my demise.

She detangles them from our very sloppy make-out to lazily drag them along the column of my throat.

Slowly,

Boldly,

Teasingly.

I cant help but grind up into her in response.

I guess the low approving growl that reaches her ears turns her on, because she grinds back even wilder.

Feeling like I will most definitely combust, I set her on her feet in the middle of the hallway.

Her eyes round in confusion as to why I stopped just barely two steps away from my bedroom.

I could take her there.

On her knees, ass up.

On her back, knees apart.

On me, back arched.

But my cock aches and im two minutes away from begging if she doesn’t let me be inside her for another second.

This is torture.

She is torture.

So I give her mouth one last sloppy kiss before turning her around and-gently- pushing her against the wall. She winds up with her cheek pressing against it as well as her tits restrained in the tight confinement between her body and the solid concrete wall.

Pressing the palms of her hands on it for balance, she yelps when I grab her hips and pull them towards me.

She’s like a doll I can throw around however I like.

And im bewildered how easy she’s letting me off.

Under other circumstances, I would’ve gotten a huff or a whine in protest, but now?

She pushes her ass farther against my crotch and grinds.

She grinds her fucking ass on my dick and I think I might cry from the pain of wanting to be inside her.

Enough waiting.

I roughly pull the hem of her dress above the arch of her ass and fuck if it isnt the prettiest sight.

She lets out a sigh which turns into a moan when I land a light-careful- spank on her ass.

It’s careful because I don’t know what she likes.

Rough and hungry?

Sweet and slow?

The former would be more convenient, considering the circumstances of us being horny out of our minds.

But the latter would be more pleasant, especially since her body is way more delicate than I could ever imagine.

I wouldn’t force anything on her, of course.

Goddamn it, im gagged.

She spreads her legs wider for me as she grinds, moaning “more” in the most pornographic voice ive ever heard.

A pained groan and a harder slap is what she gets for that.

That torment.

The thong she’s wearing almost bares her pussy to me, and at that particular sight, I am a mad man.

I pull her thong down down down, and pull her ass up up up.

She glistens with the evidence of her arousal, and a low groan of pleasure shamelessly escapes me.

“You’re unbelievable.” Shock.

“In a good way?” Confused.

Getting on my knees as fast as I can, I latch my mouth onto her opening and do what I shouldve done a long time ago.

I worship the incredible goddess that’s been right in front of my eyes for ages.

I nibble, lick, and suck, moaning into her pretty pretty pussy.

She’s so fucking pretty.

I hope she knows it.

At least after this, I’ll make damn sure she gets that fact straight.

Unbelievable.

She is.

She moans and moans and moans, and all I need is a little friction to cum in my restraining boxers.

So I do what I need to; palm my dick through my jeans while I bury my face into her pussy.

So fucking beautiful.

Just like I imagined.

I suck her clit into my mouth and suck, in which she bucks her hips into my face in a moaning plea for more.

Toying with her clit and nibbling on her sinful taste has me on my knees. Literally.

I wouldn’t hesitate to fucking beg this woman.

If she asked me to? There’s probably nothing that would make me say no to her.

Nothing.

Im afraid im already obsessed.

She grinds once onto my mouth, gasping once she’s realized what she'd done.

“it feels good?” I press an open-mouthed kiss on her opening, using my tongue to tease into it.

She whimpers loudly, her legs opening wider for me.

“such a needy slut.”

She whines at that, and with no warning I push two fingers into her aching heat.

Her very, very, wet and soaking heat.

A barely audible gasp is out of her mouth when I push another finger in and take her clit back into my mouth, squeezing her ass-cheek with my free hand.

“what do you want?” and I start fucking her with my fingers.

“please…” her breath hitches right when I curl them, reaching a spot that made her clench around me and buck her hips wildly against my face.

“you wanna cum? Huh? All up against my mouth?”

She’s fucking dripping all over me, and it's just about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I continue my ruthless finger-fucking until I feel her moans build up so high I have to spank her ass.

“shhh, baby. You’re doing so well.” I massage the red hand-print gently, slightly guilty at the rough spank I delivered. “let’s not give the neighbors a show they didn't ask for.”

But fuck, I love hearing her moan for me.

My movements don’t stop as they even heighten in intensity, but all I hear is her harsh breathing in return.

She chose to be obedient.

“Good girl.”

She whines quietly, and she clenches around my moving fingers again as she inches closer to her orgasm.

“yeah?” im waiting for her confirmation.

“yeah.” She says breathlessly, her hips arching further as she shamelessly offers her dripping pussy to me.

Goddamn the effect this woman has on me.

My cock twitches with the reminder of my horniness, and my breath grows ragged along with hers.

My fingers remain unrelenting as I pick the pace up further and curl them, sucking her clit into my mouth and toying with it using my tongue.

Breathing seems to be a far possibility for me when she clenches her pussy so tight it's almost hard for me to move.

Like she’s holding me there.

“Cum for me, baby.”

A high moan barely escapes her as she muffles the sound with her hand. Biting on her hand to quiet down, she reaches her orgasm and I moan when her legs shake.

She’s trembling, fucked out as she grinds back on my mouth with her hand covering hers.

I rub my cock through my jeans only once, and that’s all it takes for me to cum with her.

I tongue-fuck her through her orgasm, my hand on my clothed cock persistent, even as it gets a little uncomfortable.

She quietly begs me when I’ve overstimulated her, so I press one last kiss to her pussy and get on my feet.

Y/n holds onto the wall for support before straightening her back and leaning her weight against me.

She breathes heavily and her eyes are closed when she wobbles around to look at me.

Is she too spent already?

Too bad.

We’re nowhere near done.

“take me to bed.”

“we’re not done yet.”

“I didn’t say we were.”

She gets on her toes, pressing a sloppy kiss to my mouth as she fondles with my shirt.

I suck on her tongue when she opens a button and slips a hand into my shirt, feeling me up with her nails. She scratches me on my chest, on my abs, and wherever her hands can reach.

My cock goes back to its aching state, at that.

“mm, baby.” I pull back and exhale a sigh when she successfully unbuttons my shirt and throws it on the ground.

She guides a single finger over my abs- which flex as an approving reflex- and plays with the waistband of my boxers peeking out of my pants.

I’m reminded with the sticky material pressing against me right then and there, and she noticed the damp spot over my crotch when she pulls my pants down.

She looks up in surprise, apparently shocked that I’m so horny I came in my damn boxers.

Not gonna lie, a first for me, too.

I smirk. “surprised?”

“very.” She laughs.

I like this. Her. I can be who I am with this woman.

I can laugh with her during foreplay, for example.

On her knees, she looks up at me through innocent eyes and dark lashes as she pulls the barrier of my boxers down.

She stares at my length, appearing impressed- and scared- at the sheer size of it.

“fuck. You drive me insane.” A low grumble of bewilderment.

“I know.” A giggle of satisfaction. “you wanna fuck my throat?”

Judging off the fact that she goes to take me in her mouth, probably thinking I’ll say ‘yes’, she presses a kiss to the tip of my cock before sucking it into her mouth.

Such a fucking tease.

But we’re not doing this.

Not now.

I struggle to suppress a moan, pulling her up by her hand as I shake my head.

“Maybe another time.”

She stares at me with a scrunch of confusion in her brows before nodding in understanding.

I take her hand in mine and wrap it around my cock, stroking it once

Her eyes droop low in a shadow of wanting need as she watches the movement with her bottom lip between her teeth.

As I guide her through the hand job, I pull her to me by the neck, her hand in mine stuck between our bodies as I kiss her with feverish need.

Her rhythm accelerates and she squeezes me, making my orgasm almost tip over the edge.

I hold back with all my might as I loudly release a pornographic moan in her mouth, as to which she smiles into the kiss in return.

She bites my lips and pulls it to her before releasing it, sucking on my tongue right after. Stroking me even faster as she presses her mouth to me farther.

I can barely keep up, bur I’m not complaining.

It’s been a while since I’ve had sex this hungry.

She’s impatient and I’m testing her limits.

But I’m afraid my limits were crossed over in the process.

Apparently in the mood to torture myself now more than ever, I pull both of our hands away from my cock right as I’m about to cum.

“what’s wrong-“

“I need to be inside you.” She closes her mouth shut.

“need to feel you around me.” I kiss her.

“need to cum inside of you.” She moans.

“who's stopping you?”

Well damn.

Right to the point.

“shut up.” As I carry her to my bedroom.

Neither of us have time to contemplate anything as I set her gently on the bed.

She slightly bounces, at which she giggles at as I get rid of the bunched up dress at her waist.

Pulling it over her head, her tits bounce as she plops back onto the mattress and takes me down to her by her grip on my neck.

“easy, baby.” I smirk before her lips are on mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We're both naked.

Skin to skin.

Me and my best friend.

My cock glides easily along her pussy, a result of her being so wet.

For me.

Pretty baby’s as horny for me as I am for her.

“gonna let me fuck you good?” I pant as my hips accelerate in rhythm, bumping and grinding against her. “huh?”

She moans when my tip nudges her clit, and I do it again and again as we both grow needier.

Hungrier.

More and more desperate for the feel of each other.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back once I’ve gotten a taste of her.

So I take my damn time.

Her hot, wet pussy glides smoothly along my length as I grind on her frantically.

We’re like horny bunnies in heat, eager for release.

Unable to wait any longer, I stroke my cock once before nudging it along her entrance.

She moans at that, and looks down as she watches me jerk myself off with the tip inside her.

I stroke myself only once more, and she says, “do that again.”

She likes watching me jerk-off?

Well, fuck.

“you like that?”

She moans and clenches around my tip when I stroke myself again. Writhing underneath me makes her look borderline desperate as she pants.

Her tits go up and down in rhythm with her rushed breathing, and her peaked nipples beg for attention.

I take a nipple in my mouth, entering y/n one inch further.

A little sigh of contentment is all I get before she clenches around me so hard my breath is cut off.

I groan around her nipple, slightly biting on it as I release it with a pop.

I go slow the rest of the way it takes me to fully nestle inside y/n’s pussy.

She feels heavenly, so warm and wet and- heavenly.

My eyes are hard on the spot where my pelvis meets hers in an incredible show of intimacy, and my jaw clenches from how fucking tight she is.

y/n catches my attention by digging her nails into my forearm, silently pleading me to look at her.

So I do.

And, fuck. I might bust a nut right here and now.

y/n’s crying.

A tear runs down her face and she sniffles. Once.

I smooth a palm down her cheek, pushing stray strands away from her pretty face.

“what’s wrong?”

My cock is so deep in her that I’m 100% sure, if I press down on her stomach, I'll feel it there.

She struggles to answer me, her voice barely above a whisper when she whispers to me.

“it hurts.” Her voice breaks. “it hurts s-so good.”

The way her voice trembles and shakes is making it hard for me to breath.

Okay…

She’s an emotional fuck.

Such a pretty emotional fuck.

“You’re too big.”

I lock eyes with her when I slightly nudge my hips forward, her eyes snapping shut right when I do so.

Silently, I press a reassuring kiss to her lips which makes her open those pretty dreamy eyes for me.

“we’ll make it work.” With a deep sigh, I pull out of her only to slowly thrust my way back inside. “I’ll make it fit…” I snake a hand down her body to circle her clit gently. She whimpers. “…and it’ll feel good.”

She hums when I repeat my movements with slow reassurance, letting her adjust and take her time.

“look at you. Doing such a good job for me.”

She pulls me in deeper with her legs as they circle around my hips, caging me in as her nails graze my back.

She moans in my ears and I’m barely able to contain my damn hunger when she bites her lip while maintaining eye contact.

What on earth is happening to me.

Love?

Must be an insane amount of lust injected into my veins.

Does viagra have this long of an effect?

I’ve swam deep into this pool of desire, so lost in her eyes and breathy moans that I don’t notice how fast my thrusts have grown.

On a particularly harsh thrust, my hips brutally snap into hers as I pull out and do it again and again until she’s breathlessly moaning my name with tears in her eyes.

“yeah?” I dip my head into the damp crook of her neck.

She smells so damn sweet.

Like cherries, and….strawberries?

Maybe even a hint of vanilla.

Jesus christ.

Get a damn grip.

“it feels so good.” As she chokes on a sob.

“mhm?” I groan into her neck, the sound a low grumble of approval. “you wanna say that again?”

My hips are moving an animalistic speed at this point as she claws at my back and cries my name.

“jungkook!” a sob.

“you gonna cum for me? Huh?” I circle her clit again, and when I feel her clench so tight around me I can barely move, I know she’s cumming.

Without removing my face from her neck, I cover her mouth with my hand and snap my hips into hers again and again. Relentlessly.

“cum for me.”

She screams into my hand and bites it to muffle the sound, her body shaking under my own trembling body.

She whimpers as she comes down from her high, kissing my hand as a way of asking me to remove it.

My rhythm grows sloppy and lazy as my thrusts slow down, and with one last hard thrust into her, I’m biting into her neck with a rough “holy fuck” as I cum the hardest I've ever have in my whole 26 years of living.

I still inside her, unmoving as I kiss her neck lazily- apparently unable of giving up the sweet scent of her- as she runs her hands over my back and into my hair.

We stay like that for a while, both silent and content, the post-orgasm glow evident on both of our high faces.

Humming into the sweet taste of her throat, she giggles as the gesture seems to tickle her. One last kiss to her neck.

I roll off of her, careful not to crush her with my weight. We both grimace when I pull out of her, equally overstimulated.

We were horny best friends, frustrated and bothered just a little while ago.

Now?

We’re still best friends…I think.

Best friends who fucked like animals in heat.

But, unlike how I expected it to be, it’s not awkward at all.

When I turn my head to look at the beauty lying next to me, she has her eyes already closed as she seems to be dozing off to sleep.

I get up, making quick work to grab a glass of water and some damp towels, sitting back down next to her.

Cleaning her up only takes me a couple minutes to do the task as gently as I could, careful not to hurt her. I almost feel bad from how swollen and sore she’s going to be tomorrow.

I bend down and press a peck on her clit, the intention one of pure apology.

Maybe I went too hard.

“what’s that look for?” her voice speaks up from next to me.

“hm?”

“you’re frowning. Why?”

“I just- I'm sorry if I hurt you.” A small smile. “I got a bit carried away.”

“mm, you did.” She agrees.

Wait…did I actually hurt her?

She cackles at the hint of alarm in my eyes as she swats my arm.

“you’re okay, big guy. You didn’t hurt me…much.” She smiles a cheeky smile as she tries to stand up, wobbling as I grab her arm.

“you cried.” My voice is hoarse when I tell her that. It’s true. She cried, and it was the second hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed, first being her pretty pussy. “it was hot.”

She shyly smiles at me, bending down to kiss me softly. She waddles to the bathroom- naked- as she stops at the entryway to look back at me over her shoulder.

“come shower with me.”

Should I?

Don’t mind if I do.

“okay.” The soft look in my eyes disappears to make way to mischief. She cathces onto that too quick. “round two?”

She snorts at that. “I’m afraid I’d pass out.”

“I mean…”

She gasps, as if in betrayal.

“you’re not seriously considering it, are you?!”

I step closer to her, my hand on her neck before I claim her lips. “and what if I am?”

how's may treating everyone so far?

@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotes @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstonex @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma

@yourbobaeyestell @laylasbunbunny @btsnpniff @olimpiiaa @caro134340lina @ohsweetmimosa @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @t-alyssa2006 @aloverga @sexytholland

@skzthinker @whoa-jo @Noonabts36 @misshale21 @iammeandmeisiam @piyuna

[tasha-tasha]

'Will Graham wants peace and luxury' NOOOOOO

Saw something along these lines on Tumblr and I disagree HARD. It said something along the lines of: 'Will wants to be in comfort and luxury, he craves pamperment, and he wants to feel peace away from pain and discomfort' (We can all have our own headcanons, but this is mine and why I really do not agree).

Will claims he wants a peaceful life, but it isn't what he needs, it isn't what he craves.

Will was a police officer, he then went on to teach college students about how to identify victims, murders and motives. He then went on to work for the fucking FBI and lands himself at Hannibal Lecter's dinner table.

Will Graham is drawn to chaos, drawn to the grotesque and drawn to battle. He lives to suffer and watch others suffer. He revels in the morbid and the battle. His empathy has thrown him into the minds of the insane, and his battle is in accepting that he enjoys being them.

Will's acceptance, if he wished for peace, would end the moment he started a life with Molly. It would have ended the day Wally called him 'Dad'. But that is not what he truly needed, it was something he told himself he wanted. So the show continues.

Will's final development was him dragging Hannibal off the cliff with him. Will had finally given into his carnal nature, and he stood with Hannibal, in a moment of bliss and peace, as they looked at each other and knew that they brung out what society deemed their worst.

At a moment of peace and becoming, Will throws them both off a cliff and delves right back into the adrenaline and chaos of the fight. To perhaps kill both himself and Hannibal. To end his life in perfect chaos and discomfort, because he is addicted to it.

Hannibal lets him.

Will is not a 'housewife', nor a man who wishes to sit idly by and have Hannibal preen and pamper him. He doesn't want to live like Bedelia did and just accept Hannibal's darkness, and turn a blind eye to the disorder. He is not the type to lounge in the sun and sleep like a housecat.

He wants to be there. He wants that havoc, that madness, it is truly what he craves. If he was with Hannibal, even after acceptance, he would forcibly shove himself into it. They would never be safe, they would never be fully forgotten. Neither of them wants that. They enjoy the madness that comes with the vengeful and carnal.

Will is more wild animal than pet, and Hannibal slowly begins to treat him as a part of himself, rather than a plaything.

Will stops looking for Hannibal when he stops running. I don't think it's out of comfort or safety. I think Will stops chasing because there's no longer any prey to chase. So instead, he chases what he thought he wanted, chases a family and a lover; convinces himself he is comfortable in normality.

As soon as Jack returns, as soon as Hannibal re-enters his life; he practically forgets they exist. We barely see Molly for the last few episodes, because Will is not thinking of them. Will no longer puts in the effort with chasing that ideal family, because his lust for war and pain is so much greater.

Will does not want to be comfortable or at peace. Will is happiest in constant battle.

Of course, there is more to this, I'd love to do a deeper dive one day.

[octuscle]

hey dude, I’m not a writer, but a bro sent me this request and I think the chronivac team can help him out

I’m a 21 year old gay geek who lives in a very loving but nerdy family. My dad is a geek who has been taking me to gaming conventions since I was little. Me and all my brothers take after him. I love my family, but I’ve always wondered what it would have been like growing up with a jock family. Could I have been the jock I fantasize about being if I had more masculine influences in my life?

March 10th, 2024

I never thought my family would turn into a bunch of fitness fanatics, but here we are. Mom, Dad, even my little brothers, they're all obsessed with this new super athletic lifestyle. Protein shakes, chicken breasts, and hours at the gym have become the norm in our household.

I used to be content with my telescope and chessboard, but now I find myself being dragged to the gym and force-fed protein shakes. It's like my family has become a cult, and I'm the reluctant follower. I'm not sure how I feel about all of this.

March 25th, 2024

I can't believe how quickly things have changed. Just a few weeks ago, I was the nerdy kid who spent his days studying the stars and playing chess. Now, I'm a typical high school jock, hanging out with the popular crowd and making fun of anyone who doesn't fit in.

I've traded my telescope for dumbbells and my chessboard for a football. And the worst part? I'm starting to enjoy it. I feel powerful and invincible, like I can do anything. But I'm also starting to notice a mean streak in myself that I never knew existed.

April 10th, 2024

I've become a bully. I can't believe I'm saying that, but it's true. I'm the one pushing kids into lockers and stealing their lunch money now. And the worst part? I'm not even sorry about it.

I've also developed this gross habit of forcing kids to smell the stench from my sweaty armpit after football practice. It's like I get some sick pleasure out of humiliating others. What has happened to me?

April 30th, 2024

Yo, dude, like, physically, I'm a whole new person now. Went from a scrawny little dude to a 280-pound muscle beast. My clothes are bursting at the seams, and I gotta turn sideways to squeeze through doors. But hey, ain't complaining - diggin' all the stares I'm getting. And guess what? Bagged a wrestling scholarship to a college out in the Midwest. Me, the dude who used to daydream about space and stuff, gonna be slammin' in the ring for a college team. It's bonkers, but man, I'm totally stoked about it.

May 20th, 2024

Yo, OMG, peeps! I am legit ecstatic right now, like I never in a million years thought I'd be uttering those words, but BOOM, it's straight facts, fam! E'en though I've gone through some major transformations, like morphing into this 280-pound jacked AF bodybuilder who lowkey bullies nerds, I am L-I-V-I-N-G my best life and am beyond stoked about it! I've finally discovered where I belong in this crazy world, and that's under them bright lights on the wrestling mat, ready to throw down and slam some bodies, chug some protein shakes, and maybe, just maybe, dial back on the bully vibes a smidge. Here's to the next epic chapter in my saga, AKA living my dream and taking names! #OnTopOfTheWorld #LivingMyTruth #BodySlamsAndBulkingBro

[flyingwargle]

as if guided by an inexplicable force, hinata finds himself outside of karasuno high school.

he dismounts his bike. a few students pass by, shooting him furtive glances, making him feel out of place. all throughout his high school years, he was repeatedly mistaken as a middle schooler, and now that he's left school behind him for good, it seems he'll never escape such impressions.

wheeling his bike along, he walks around, tracing the routes he took from the bike rack to the clubrooms, the main building, the gyms where the various teams practice. their doors are wide open to allow for fresh air, voices drifting over him.

eventually, he finds the gym dedicated to the volleyball team, established as such in his third year. he freezes at ukai's shouts, sharp as ever, yelling at his players to raise their elbows, to react faster. a chorus of affirmatives answer him, and the ball is thrown in the air again.

curiosity gets the best of him. hinata leans his bike against the wall and creeps closer to the door, peering inside. the players are divided into two teams, differentiated by green and yellow bibs. ukai stands at the referee's position, watching as the ball sails back and forth. the libero goes for the receive, the setter running to cover it, sending it to the left. the wing spiker jumps, unperturbed by the three-man block in front of him. his spike blows past them.

ukai blows his whistle. the boys shout in celebration. hinata, caught up in the excitement, cheers along. "nice kill!"

heads turn in his direction, ukai included. hinata freezes, feels his blood turn cold. then, the gym explodes.

"it's hinata shoyo from the jackals!"

"hinata-senpai!"

"hinata-san! can i get your autograph?"

"what's he doing here?"

"is he here to visit?"

as the boys rush toward him, ukai steps down and holds them off with a fierce glare. to his visitor, he says, "i never would've expected to see you here."

"hi, coach! i, uh, i'm playing a game with friends later, and i got restless, so i went on a bike ride and ended up here..." hinata chuckles nervously. "ah, i didn't mean to bother you! i can leave if you want-"

"if i make you leave, i'll never hear the end of it," ukai snorts, glancing over at his dazed team. "stick around for a bit. i'll throw them at you after a few more rallies." he turns around, barks at everyone to get back into position. hinata grins, taking his shoes off before entering to observe from the sidelines.

there's something nostalgic about being back to his humble roots. shoes squeak against the hardwood floor, the air stiff with only the door open. the curtains are drawn across the stage, water bottles and towels scattered on the ledge. it feels just like yesterday that he was being scolded for leaving his gear everywhere, always distracted by his underclassmen or something else.

ukai gives them a break, and the boys swarm him with questions about the jackals, how to improve their serves, whether or not he'll sign their uniforms. "no way that's going to happen," ukai grumbles at the last request.

"i'd be happy to sign anything else," hinata chirps. "within reason, of course!"

as the boys scramble to find appropriate items and markers, hinata hears footsteps approach from behind. he glances over his shoulder, whirls around in surprise. "kageyama!"

"oh." kageyama stops, hands in the pockets of his team jacket. "what are you doing here?"

"i can ask you the same thing!"

"i was in the area, so i thought to say hi to ukai-san." he nods politely when his coach gapes at him. "hello."

"let me guess..." ukai gestures at both of them. "you'll be playing together later?"

hinata nods. "yeah! we also invited-"

"ah! hinata! kageyama!"

"yamaguchi! and..." hinata waves at the blonde hiding behind his friend. "tsukishima!"

"why are you here?" tsukishima grumbles, stepping into view.

ukai has an amused look on his face. "i didn't know the off-season is when alumni visit their old coaches."

"the gym we're playing at is nearby," yamaguchi explains. "hope you don't mind us dropping by."

"i do, in the sense you're disturbing our practice time, but i'll just think of it as upperclassmen coming to see their underclassmen." ukai nods at his team, starstruck, now that the number of pros have multiplied. "you've got five minutes to ask for autographs, so make it fast!"

after a whirlwind of autographs, one underclassman approaches hinata. "could you show us your minus tempo set with kageyama-san?" he asks eagerly. "we're trying to replicate it, but haneda isn't fast enough." another boy, presumably the setter, scoffs and mutters under his breath.

"sure! uh, if that's okay with you, coach," hinata adds hastily. ukai nods, and he turns to kageyama. "did you bring your court shoes?"

"obviously. did you?"

hinata pulls open his drawstring bag. "yeah!"

they put their shoes on and step onto the court. it's like they're in their first year again, discovering the tools that'll help them succeed, unafraid to drop whatever is no longer useful. "do you still remember how it's done?" hinata asks, picking up a ball.

"you don't just forget how to do it," kageyama retorts. "dumbass."

hinata laughs and tosses the ball. he makes his approach, arms pulled back, leaping into the air in the blink of an eye, the ball already arching at where his contact point is. he spikes, the ball landing with a resounding echo.

applause erupts, along with requests for them to do it again. hinata turns and extends his fist, kageyama knocking his own against his. maybe there will be a day when they'll be on the same team again, but until then, the synergy they shared will remain dormant, always ready to cause a spark.

"don't be strangers!" ukai calls out as they get ready to leave. "come by and visit whenever you have time!"

"yeah!" hinata jumps to his feet, his former teammates behind him. "see you later, coach!"

[mins-fins]

EPISODE 12 : ❛ yn and mark, mark and yn ❜

Mark doesn't know why his head immediately shot up when he heard his phone ring.

For starters, it's one in the morning, who in their right mind is calling him at one in the morning? Second, he isn't expecting a call from anyone, so when his phone does ring, he almost throws it at the wall as the irritating ringtone repeats over and over.

Mark groans and stares at the ceiling, not even turning on the light as he feels the bedside table for his phone, his still vibrating phone. He scowls in annoyance when he can't find it after the first thirty seconds of not feeling his phone, so he sits up, much to his own dismay, and picks up his phone.

He blinks at the screen, rubbing his eyes as he swears he reads the contact name wrong. It's you, you're calling him. Why the hell are you calling at one in the morning? A puzzled expression crosses his face, and he contemplates on if he should actually pick up.

But after what seems like forever (in Mark's metrics), he sighs and answers the phone. "Hello?"

"Hiiiiii Markie".

Mark immediately picks up on the way your words are slurred, but he doesn't comment on it right away, laying back down onto his comfy duvet. "Hi Yn, good morning" He responds, and you giggle, you giggle, Mark finds that hilarious.

"Morning? It's only.. wait it is morning! One am! Wow you're so smart!"

Mark snickers. "Basic knowledge, Yn".

"Uh huh" You say on the other line, a hiccup accompanying your words.

Mark furrows his eyebrows, thinking this would be the right time to bring this up. "Are you drunk?" He finally asks, and you giggle again on the other line, seemingly finding the question hilarious. You hiccup again before answering the question.

"Sort of?"

"That's not a yes or no" Mark is quick to reply, and you giggle again, a sound Mark missed more than anything. "Why'd you call me at one in the morning anyway?"

"I like the way your voice sounds".

The blatantly honest response makes Mark snicker, a snicker you silently gasp at on the other end of the line. "Is that you or the alcohol talking?" He inquires immediately, holding his phone with his shoulder as he begins picking his nails.

"I don't know.." You mutter on the other end, the sound of something shuffling slightly is sounded in Mark's ears. "Just wanted to confess that I guess".

"So you called me while I was asleep?"

"Yeah?"

"How were you so sure I'd pick up?"

You chuckle, as if that was one of the stupidest questions he could've ever asked you. "I wasn't, I was just really hoping you would answer, it'd would've been embarrassing if you didn't".

Mark pauses, collecting his words. How does he say this without sounding like a pining, desperate loser?

Well— he can't exactly avoid that.

"If I'm being honest, I was kinda hoping you would call.."

The statement is met with immediate silence, silence that punches Mark in the gut and spits on him as he falls. He almost rips off his nail with how anxious he is, but he doesn't comment on your silence. It's like that for a few minutes before you let out a small giggle of disbelief.

"Don't lie to me, Mark".

"I would never do such a thing, I'm being honest, maybe you should be too".

Mark wishes he regretted saying that, but he doesn't, he just wants you to speak your mind, he wants to hear your thoughts, he wants to hear how you feel from you. "Oh? You want me to be honest with you, Mark?"

Your tone of voice makes his stomach flip, it's not because he likes your voice, though, it is definitely not because of that. "Yeah, honesty is key, Yn".

"Honesty is key huh?" You click your tongue, a habit of yours that has made Mark dizzy since forever, you always look so good doing it, he can't even begin to imagine how you look right now. "Is telling you I missed you too honest? Or.. hm, is saying that maybe I'm not so over you honest enough for you?"

Though Mark chuckles at that response, he can't help the way his face heats up, thank god this is a phone call and he doesn't have to see you face to face (for now.. that is), he would never live it down. He can't believe you just said that, and all of this at one in the morning too? You really are full of surprises.

"No, I think I'd like to know more, actually".

"Ah, your greedy".

Mark raises an eyebrow at the words, but he doesn't confirm or deny the claim, just snickers. "What if I am? It's you after all".

"Aww, am I special?"

"Very".

You giggle again, you seem to enjoy giggling, Mark wants to make you giggle again, no, scratch that, he wants to hear you giggle again, it's so cute, you're so cute. You love the words, and Mark loves that you love the words.

You two always do this, huh? It's always with you. Yn and Mark, Mark and Yn..

Why did you guys even breakup?

Once the question crosses Mark's mind, he wants to punch himself in the face, and he's glad you're not there to see the way his face fall and his hands clench into fists. He feels like such an idiot, how is he still asking himself questions like this?

He knows why, he knows exactly why, you both know exactly why.

"It's late, Yn, you should sleep, and stop drinking".

"Do you really care that much for me?" You ask, your tone teasing, tormenting, another punch to Mark's already weakened gut.

"Yes, I do, now go to sleep Yn".

"Alright then, good nigh— morning, Mark, sleep well".

When you hang up, Mark stares at his phone for what seems like hours, he's not proud of himself for staring at your contact for as long as he does.

He can't sleep well, he's up all night thinking about you.

previous masterlist next

taglist 𓏧 ↳ @junjiie, @cosmiicdream, @prettyrenjunn, @multifandomania, @luvkyu, @x-alightinthedark, @haocovr, @joonggphilia, @choerubies, @enthusiastofmanythings, @doejaejung, @iluvkyo, @yawnzbf, @haechansbbg, @ldrei, @dkmyman, @lampcults, @monstaxpuppy, @dreamandback, @moonslie04

[eggcats]

I got distracted thinking about Housewife Vox, and if I had Vox's powers, I'd have blown out the city's power grid. So this is a completely self-indulgent (with some nsfw-ish near the end) fic offshoot of that post.

The other post you can choose to be one-sided, but this RadioStatic is reciprocated here. You were warned.

There's like, quite literally over 3k words here, and none of the (mild) nsfw-ish stuff doesn't even start until we hit 2k. Oops.

--

Alastor isn't completely unaware he's essentially kidnapped someone to live with him, in a way that could be misconstrued as a partner. He's been in hell for about 20 years, and before that, he lived in areas no one would exactly call....normal to typical white picket fence Americana. He's not completely ignorant of how it looks.

However, he's never been really good at noticing when other people have Those Kinds of feelings towards himself. (He doesn't feel those things, and so he doesn't even notice any supposed signals being sent). It's not even always intentional, it just never occurs to him that someone could (or would) be interested in him in such a way.

And so. He doesn't realize how Vox feels towards him. Not until he invites him to Cannibal Town to meet his beloved Rosie, and Vox can barely bring himself to be his typical charming self.

The tea is awkward, and Alastor is a little upset that, apparently, Vox is only okay with his cannibalism when it's not in his face - but isn't willing to accept it when he can't ignore it. Alastor is aware that his tastes are a little alarming to most of hell's population, but he thought Vox accepted it in him. (Perhaps he only made him dinner when it was venison because he could ignore the rest of it? Alastor assumed he usually prepared his sinner meat simply because he was the one bringing it in, but perhaps he was mistaken.)

It's not until the next time he visits his dear friend and he laments the issue when he discovers the truth. (He adores his Rosie, but the laughter she did in his face for his confusion he could have lived without. If he was any less of a gentleman, he would have mocked her snorting, but alas, his mother raised him better than that).

So now Alastor has to consider the fact that Vox himself is also aware of the strange dynamic they are living under and is apparently very interested in keeping it. (Even to the point of trying to scare off potential competition, an idea that is so laughable that he can't help but chuckle a bit.)

If that's the case, then he will simply continue on as normal. If he mentions him and Rosie simply being extremely close but neither having any romantic interest in the other before the next time he invites Vox to Cannibal Town, there's nothing more to it. (Vox's expression after doesn't do anything to him, nor is he pleasantly surprised how non-judgemental his picture box is when he isn't attempting to stake a non-contested claim. He also pointedly ignores any looks Rosie might be throwing him behind Vox's back.)

Alastor, therefore, believes himself to have resolved this "issue."

--

Vox, however, doesn't realize how blatant his affections are and is somehow convinced he's keeping them hidden. Vox, while enjoying PRETENDING to be a housewife to an attractive (cannibalistic, violent...oh, those teeth...) man, is terrified of accidentally crossing a line he's not aware of. He knows Alastor is okay with how they're currently operating, because Alastor is the one who created it. But, he hasn't shown any interest in anything MORE, and so Vox feels like he must content himself with just that - fantasies.

(If he sometimes imagines being swept off his feet when Alastor gets home and ravished on "their" marriage bed, well, that's between him and the walls).

Or it would be, if Alastor wasn't Alastor.

--

See. Alastor has a great deal of affection for Vox, but he's aware that they are in hell and that no one is here by accident. He doesn't LIKE the idea that Vox may simply be using his own interest for an advantage over him when he's vulnerable, but Alastor can't deny the very distinct possibility.

Even excepting that issue, Vox himself did not land in hell with the same right-out-the-gate power, and as it stands, any of Alastor's enemies would surely target Vox as a weakness of his. While certainly his picture box isn't completely as helpless as he likes to pretend, the idea of anyone even attempting to stake any kind of claim on him makes Alastor want to bite something.

So whenever he leaves, he uses his shadows to observe what Vox does on his own in Alastor's living space. He doesn't tell Vox this for a magnitude of reasons - wanting to see how he operates when he thinks he's alone, as well as Alastor having the ability to self-reflect enough to know his possessive ownership of things he considers HIS isn't something most others are okay with when that comes to other people.

(Alastor will find out later that Vox is absolutely more than okay with Alastor considering him his and very much LIKES his possessive attitude).

And for the most part, Vox doesn't do anything of note. Alastor has his shadows keep watch on him, but to allow Vox his privacy, he doesn't actually have them report directly or watch through them - unless his shadows believe something is relevant for him to see. So for a few weeks, his shadows presence around Vox when he is away is more of a security measure than anything else.

But eventually, they pick up on something strange. It's not a lot at a time, but it seems like Vox has taken it upon himself to steal small amounts of money from him. Alastor tries to negate this by simply inviting Vox shopping along with him and allowing him to choose whatever he wants to purchase. Alastor has even suggested Vox going shopping with his money on his own (while being protected from the shadows, of course) but even that was rejected.

Alastor can't understand any of it. He would understand if Vox was looking for some kind of escape from living with him, but the one (and only) time Alastor suggested Vox having his own place to live, Vox looked like he had shot his beloved pet in front of him. (Alastor is ignoring how pleased he is by this response. He didn't WANT his Vox to leave, but he refuses to be a similar man to his father and force him to. He enjoys treating Vox as if he belongs to him, but he wants Vox to want the leash - and not force it upon him).

Perhaps he simply enjoys theft. There are worse sins in hell, and it's not like Alastor is HIDING his money from him. The money would have undoubtedly been spent on his picture box regardless, so he doesn't mind as long as it brings him pleasure. To each their own.

Except one day after Alastor leaves, so does Vox. Which isn't completely unheard of, but him taking the stolen cash IS enough of a deviation from normal that his shadows alert him about it.

So Alastor follows him, determined to understand how the mind of his picture box works (so he can take care of him better so he'll never leave). And Vox goes clothes shopping, which wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary, except he (very poorly, his dear Vox is many things, but unnoticeable is not one of them) sneaks into the women's section and selects one, very simple, 1950s style dress.

Alastor wonders if he finally figured out the issue. For some reason, his Vox wants to wear women's clothing but isn't comfortable letting HIM know that. His dislike of both purchasing such items with Alastor (as well as simply shopping when Alastor would be aware he is, and expect to see what was purchased) makes sense to him.

This is easily solved. The idea that Alastor would CARE what clothing his picture box wants to wear is laughable - cannibalism is fine, but a dress is too far? Ridiculous.

He knows Vox has not been in hell for very long, so perhaps he hasn't yet realized that such societal taboos are generally accepted, considering the large magnitude of sins the rest of the population has committed. Not to mention that even while he was alive, he knew a great deal of people who regularly cross-dressed (such people were generally rejected by society enough to not care about anything society rejected about HIM).

Alastor is a little personally upset that his picture box believes HIMSELF to be someone who would be upset by something so minor, but perhaps they simply haven't lived together long enough. Regardless, now Alastor has a solution to this theft issue, and then he can purchase as many clothes, in whichever styles, for his dear. And perhaps he'll come to him the next time he wishes for something of his own.

Issue number two, resolved.

--

Sort of.

Vox has been planning this outing for months. He's been meticulous about only taking small amounts of money at a time to avoid detection. Vox is fairly certain Alastor doesn't suspect a thing - or else why would he continue to let his money be unguarded around him or take him on shopping trips and buying whatever he happens to look at for more than a few seconds.

Surely, if Alastor noticed the small amounts of change going missing every so often, he'd kick Vox out. (The time Alastor suggested he find his own place, he's certain his heart stopped for the second time. Luckily, before he could say anything incriminating about how much he WANTED to live with Alastor, he changed his mind about removing Vox from his life).

He knows it's a big risk, but a part of him NEEDS to fully embrace this fantasy of being a housewife. It's all he can think about.

(He might have convinced himself that if he can have one (1) singular self-indulgent fantasy to his heart's content on a day he knows Alastor will be gone, maybe he can put this behind him and stop wishing for more than he can have. It's one thing to pretend to be his housewife, but he knows it will never happen - if he can just get it out of his system, maybe he can Stop This Nonsense).

The entire walk to the clothing store Vox feels like he's being watched. Which he KNOWS is ridiculous - the only time anyone ever pays him any attention is when he's next to Alastor - but the feeling persists. It makes him even more anxious about this purchase than he already is (but he's committed at this point so he can't quit now).

Vox selects a fairly modest dress in a style that he had seen any number of women wearing when he was alive. (He tries to ignore how he has to make sure it buttons up due to his head. He's only insecure about it when he thinks about it, so if he ignores it, he can pretend he looks like anyone else).

He makes it back home to Alastor's place with plenty of time before he's due to be back, and so he wastes no time in changing.

--

When Vox returns home, Alastor fully intended on leaving his shadow and no longer observing him. The only thing he wanted to make sure was that he returned before Vox had the chance to change out of his dress, so Alastor could show what a good mate how little he cared about such frivolous things and perhaps be permitted to help him select such clothing on his next outing.

However, Vox's sudden utterance of his name was certainly unexpected. Alastor almost left his shadows, certain (somehow) he had been caught and spotted, and planned on how to explain his observation in a way that Didn't alarm his partner. 

Except. Nothing about whatever else Vox is doing seems to indicate that he knows Alastor is watching. Vox seems to be having an internal conversation with some imaginary version of himself, as he seems to be responding to words that no one (and certainly not Alastor) is saying. This is a unique development that Alastor did not anticipate, and he is not entirely certain how to continue from here. Certainly, Vox is under the assumption that he is alone now, but everything else he is doing indicates that on some level he is pretending Alastor is also with him. 

Surely the correct thing to do would be to watch to make sure he has not missed anything with Vox’s recent behavior towards himself. 

Nothing catches Alastor quite off guard more than when Vox suddenly tosses himself onto his own bed, with a breathy “Oh, Alastor!” accompanying it. This is certainly something the real Alastor has never done, and he is currently uncertain why the sudden imitation is being performed. 

Until Vox begins to touch himself (while continuing to say his name) and suddenly Alastor realizes what is going on. 

Oh. That’s. Unexpected. 

Is this the reason for the dress purchase? Or are they unrelated? Certainly Vox has never done quite so intimate things while saying his name before, as there is no way his shadows would NOT inform him of such activity. Does the dress arouse him in this way, or-?

Oh. Vox seems to have purchased the appropriate panties for such an outfit as well. Alastor has quite a good view now, and can see just how excited his picture box is with this apparent fantasy. He hasn’t removed any clothes yet, but considering his breathy whines and moans this is not a deterrent in the least (perhaps it enhances the sensation)?

This is quite the new development and Alastor isn’t quite certain what would be the most appropriate course of action. Certainly, despite his words saying otherwise, Vox is very unaware of just what show he is putting on for Alastor. Typically the correct course of action would be to leave him his own privacy.

But for whatever reason Alastor cannot turn his eyes away. 

Alastor knows himself, and his wants and desires and has never felt the desire or need to do such carnal actions, such as those being performed in his name. However, it never occurred to him how pleasing it could be to hear his name being spoken in such needy tones. He knows he quite enjoys it when those he is tearing apart are begging for mercy, but it never occurred to him that he might enjoy the same things in a dramatically different context. 

Alastor watches as Vox raises his dress, and begins to touch himself through his panties. Despite being clothed, he can see everything quite clearly and watches as Vox becomes more and more aroused. It’s not until a breathy “Alastor, please!” is uttered that Vox finally shoves down his panties and takes himself properly in his hand. It’s….quite a captivating sight. 

He watches as Vox becomes more and more excited, his mouth open as he pants, little digital hearts visible in his eyes, and a constant array of gasps and moans of his name being sung into the air above him. It’s more entrancing than anything he has ever seen before, and Alastor can understand wanting someone to desire you if this is how it looks to be worshiped. 

Alastor will purchase him the entire clothing store if this is his response to such clothing. So help him, Vox will never wear pants again if he can help it. 

It doesn’t take long for Vox to bring himself to completion, with a crescendo of Alastor’s name that he will save in his microphone for all of eternity, lest he dare forget the beauty of it. Alastor has not seen anything more divine than Vox with his back arched, crying his name, as he finishes all over himself with just the imagination of Alastor being there. 

Vox will never be allowed to utter another name from his mouth in such a way or Alastor will rip their spine out of their mouth for even daring to attempt it. Vox belongs to him, and he will never make those noises or put on a show for anyone other than Alastor (even if he has to chain his soul to himself to prevent it).

Alastor watches as Vox recovers, panting and coming down from his euphoria, and considers his next move. He is…unsure…how to broach such a topic to him, as this is nowhere near his specialty and such actions typically do not arouse much interest in him. 

He had plans for providing Vox the dresses and other clothing he desired, but bringing up these specific desires has never before been something he has ever wanted. (But oh, how he now wants). It’s a unique experience to want to watch as Vox takes himself apart for him (wanting to take him apart himself) but not simply just wanting it as seemingly others do. 

However, he is broken from his reverie by the noise of crying, and not the delicious version that he was just privy to. No, these are tears born of heartbreak and Alastor is both confused and alarmed by their appearance. Surely this type of self-pleasure is supposed to be pleasurable to the one doing it, or else why would anyone ever do such a thing? 

Why is his beautiful noisy picture box upset and who does he have to gut to prevent it from ever happening again?

He watches as Vox hugs himself on his bed and mumbles something that sounds alarmingly like “Stupid, like he’d ever want something that looks like you….” and Alastor is leaving his shadows before he even realizes he’s doing it. Before Vox notices he’s no longer alone, Alastor has wrapped his arms around him and holds him tight.

(Vox might have yelped in surprise and accidentally shocked Alastor in his charming way where he can’t control his electrical impulses. Alastor responds with his own pleasing radio waves to relax his current until it returns to normal). 

It seems to take a second for Vox to realize that Alastor being present means that he must have in some way witnessed his previous actions (and can certainly see not only him in a dress, but one that is very clearly wrecked in one very specific way). It is always so fascinating to watch how emotions play out on the face of his picture box, and this is no exception. However, before Vox can once again send himself down into the pit of self-loathing, Alastor hums a tune and rubs his own cheek against Vox’s.

--

“I must know. Was this a response to the dress or myself?”

“Wh-what?!”

“Regardless, I will purchase whatever dresses you desire if this is the result. My only requirement is that you allow me to be present next time.”

“H-how…?! What? Uh….I mean….you’re not…mad?”

“Why on earth would I be upset? Unless of course you meant to do this in a way where you would refuse my participation or observations, in which case I will lock you away until you change your mind.” 

“You-you WANT to be involved? But you’ve never-?”

“Oh certainly! While I’ve never desired such things for myself, watching you desire them is certainly an experience I would like to have! You are such a fascinating creature, darling, and I must keep such things all to myself.” 

“Can….can I kiss you?”

--

While doing such actions has never been something Alastor has had much interest in, doing them with Vox and watching his responses to them is quite another story. Left to his own devices, he would never desire such things nor wish to do any of them - but looking into the shy and hopeful eyes of his delightful picture box changes his perspective quite a bit. He has the most entertaining and pleasing responses to quite literally anything Alastor does to him, and it is quite enthralling the effect he has on the other.

He will be holding onto him for as long as he can, digging his claws into Vox so deeply that he will not ever be able to even imagine an afterlife without Alastor present.

[marielle-heller]

since people on here are talking about rap and how it's a lot more diverse than people give it credit for, I thought I'd add that a really wonderful source of information on the genre from its formation to ~around~ present day is the book The Come Up by Jonathan Abrams. especially if you want to get a taste of just how WIDE the scope of rap can be, I actually compiled a list of every song mentioned in the book that I could find on spotify (it's about 300 songs and admittedly includes a few non-hip hop songs that influenced other songs and were sampled in them)

obviously you're not likely to enjoy every single song. I didn't, but then I made a new, shorter playlist of the songs I did like, and I suddenly had a huge wealth of hip-hop history at my fingertips that I felt like I could really connect with and enjoy. it's there, trust me! especially if you listen to the whole thing you will hear how much it changes. you will be able to identify different sub-genres that may or may not be your taste. from there you could dig more into an artist or try googling "songs like" a particular one you enjoyed

I'll also note that like. definitely this is a bit lacking in female artists. I haven't read it yet but I do have a copy of God Save the Queens: An Essential History of Women in Hip-Hop by Katy Iandoli which is a good recommendation if you're looking to focus on women within the genre.

but it is a start, and it is worth checking out to educate yourself if you've never liked hip-hop. I thought I wasn't the biggest fan for a long time, and then I realized I just didn't love what I was hearing in the current mainstream. there's a lot of older artists I really connected with, and I've even been able to find some more current songs I enjoy.

this is also by no means an exhaustive playlist! these are songs that, for whatever reason, in context, were chosen to be mentioned in this book. there are definitely other amazing ones that didn't come up for whatever reason (for example, and maybe because it is a bit more focused on the history, Kendrick Lamar actually does not appear on the playlist). but I encourage people to check it out if you think you might be interested in rap. and especially if you're interested in rap beefs, there are several highlighted here. sorry to Queens but I really enjoy "The Bridge is Over" by Boogie Down Productions which is like a diss track on the whole borough </3

anyway, just thought I'd throw this out here. hopefully someone enjoys it! thank you

[moggettt]

"If I wanted to take over the station's systems and kill everybody, I'd have done it by now."

[gen-toon]

[bigkickguy]

daanmarcoh doodle - they're sleeping in shifts and keeping watch

[rainofthetwilight]

blood moon, lloyd getting The Zane Treatment (aka visions), shatterspin, wolf warriors, new guy with smoke powers who uses shatterspin and smites kids, wyldfyre with a broken leg, euphrasia returning with a broken leg, arm and a crutch, arin getting slam dunked on the ground for the second time (all of this resulted from the said guy earlier), possible villian jay, cole properly returns, the finders along w/ geo and bonzle returning, actual talking dragons, whatever fang status is, rising dragon technique, sora and riyu learning spinjitzu, bonzle's creator, arin getting an arc, forbidden five, wyldfyre getting a boyfriend, and so much more

dragons rising season 2, w h a t

[dazais-guardian-angel]

this torture we're going through with the anime must be divine karma for slandering Bones all this time...... they said "oh, you don't like how we adapt things? you say the manga does it better?? okay then, well now there is no more manga. it's Bones or bust, bitches."

[rabble-dabble]

OH MY GOD MY TWO FAVORITES GUYES WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ?????

[thevashta-narada]

just realised the captain only let the other ghosts refer to him as captain probably only partially because the war and his rank was everything that mattered to him and also because the last thing he heard before he died was the love of his life saying his name in the most loving and gentle way and he probably wanted to keep that memory and it also probably would feel way too intimate for any of the other ghosts to say his name after that so he just tells them to call him captain.

[tow-bees]

twilight princess fans are out here shipping link and zelda or link and midna, and some people are based and ship midna and zelda... but everyone is sleeping on the bestest ship which would be link and this guy

like sure he's barely in the game but like Link has a picture of this guy in his house, therefore he must be like his chill domestic rancher boyfriend or some shit ok

[biscuitpenguin]

Here's the thing with Matty Healy - the only reason his behaviour is being excused is because he's dating Taylor. There's like. a whole army of Swifties (not all of them! I am talking about a specific group) who willingly excuse any of her actions because they love her. These are the people who harass Jake Gyllenhaal and John Mayer, because in their eyes Taylor can do no wrong.

Listen. I love Taylor. I think she's a smart businesswoman, I think she usually seems like a genuine and good person, she's a defining force in my life for years now. She's also got the most fucking boss cats I've ever seen.

But whatever else I think, she can't be excused for this. She is willingly dating a person who has been openly racist, ableist, and generally an asshole, and that's not something that can morally be looked past.

This whole Speak Now TV thing smacks of releasing an album to shut everyone up. I'm also terrified that one of these original songs is going to be a 'our love conquers all' type song, because this is not a love that conquers all. Matty Healy is a horrible person. People need to recognise that and stop defending Taylor when they should be calling her out.

If you're genuinely committed to the fandom, that means you gotta like Taylor. So eventually, it comes down to asking yourself: can you? When she passively excuses Matty Healy's behaviour?

And I say this as a person who is as white as they come: you can't claim to support people of colour if you won't back them when it doesn't suit you. Having principles means you believe a thing all the time, you defend a thing all the time, and sometimes, when necessary, you call out racist assholes and their enabling girlfriends.