#but when YOU do it it's 'chique'

[actual-corpse]

"Montessori bed"....

You mean "mattress on the floor that I appropriated from a poorer culture that I thought was cute"?

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Put to use

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 3

Prompts: Rough & Aftercare

Words: 1,404

Rated: E

Tags: Roleplay; Consensual non-con; Mean dom!Steve; Sub!Eddie; Face fucking; Hair pulling; Slapping; Degradation; Humiliation; Coming in pants; Aftercare

“You know why I called you here?” Steve asks. 

Eddie hums. The sound comes out shaky and too high, distorted by the bundle of nerves lodged in his throat. 

“Not to ask my opinion on your interior design choices, I hope,” he says, gesturing at the checkered atrocity lining the walls. “I mean, I dunno what's considered chique in your circles, but this-” 

“Don’t play smart with me, Munson.” 

Steve whirls on him, and Eddie's feet stumble a step back without his conscious permission. The backs of his knees bump against something soft and then, before he knows it, he's sitting on the bed with Steve looming above him. That pretty mouth twists into a haughty smile. 

“Selling drugs to my team on the night before the big game?” Steve asks, voice gravelly and low. His varsity jacket rustles as he brackets his hands on either side of Eddie’s legs. “Are you fucking serious?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, hoping that the hammering of his heart won't betray him. “What are you, their mom? Gimme a-” 

Steve puts one large hand on his thigh and squeezes, and the words give way to a pained hiss.

“I am their captain,” Steve says. He smells faintly of chlorine and shampoo. “And I wonder what the coach would say about this. Or the principal for that matter.” 

Eddie can practically feel himself go pale. 

“No,” he breathes. “Nonono, c’mon, dude! You know Higgins has it out for me, I can't afford another fucking suspension. Can't we just forget about it? Please, I'll do-” 

“Oh,” Steve says. “Now you can say please? I like that.” 

The fingers digging into Eddie’s thigh shift inwards, and Eddie’s heart kicks against his ribcage. 

“Hey, stop it,” he blurts. “What are you-” 

Steve slaps him. Not very hard - just enough to leave Eddie’s face stinging with pain and humiliation. The feeling pools at the base of his spine, hot and tight, and his cock throbs against Steve’s hand. 

“Now,” Steve says. “What were you about to say? You'd do what, exactly?” 

Eddie blinks at him. 

The second slap is harder than the first. It sends his head flying to the side, hair whipping with the movement. Steve takes a fistful of curls and pulls, forcing him to meet his eye again. 

“You'd do anything? Is that what you were going to say?” 

Eddie tries to speak, but all that leaves his lips is a pathetic whimper. His ears are ringing and his scalp is burning where Steve is yanking on his hair. He's embarrassingly, painfully hard. 

“You look so dumb with your mouth hanging open like that,” Steve scoffs. “Might as well put it to some use.” 

“Wha-?” Eddie stammers, but it turns into a yelp when Steve gives his head a hard shove. 

“On your knees. You want me to forget about this, make me.” 

The impact of his knees hitting the carpet makes his teeth clack together and sends the room spinning. Above him, Steve laughs, holding his head in place with one hand and undoing his pants with the other. The thick, heady smell of arousal hits Eddie before Steve even pulls himself out, punching another breathy whine from his throat. 

“God, look at you,” Steve murmurs, and there's something swimming in his voice that's dangerously close to awe. “You're actually getting off on this, aren't you?” 

“Please,” Eddie says again. He isn't even sure what he's asking for. Please stop? Please keep going? He doesn't know, and Steve doesn’t leave him any time to find out. Instead, he wraps one thick strand of hair around his fist, so tight that Eddie can feel his scalp give under the pull, and uses the ensuing gasp of pain to shove his cock into Eddie’s mouth. 

The first thrust hits the back of his throat, making him gag and turning his moan into a wet gurgle. He instinctively tries to pull off, but Steve makes a harsh “tsk” sound, holding him in place with the hand fisted in his hair. 

He keeps him there until Eddie’s eyes water and drool begins to gather around the warm, heavy weight on his tongue. Just as Eddie thinks he’s about to run out of air, he starts to move. 

Tangling his other hand in Eddie’s hair as well, he pulls him back, allowing him just enough time to draw a choking breath before he slams him back down on his cock again, and again, and again. Eddie struggles, briefly, but then he goes limp in Steve’s hold, forcing himself to relax his throat, to settle into the relentless rhythm, to let his mind go blank and just let Steve take what he wants. When he braces his hands on Steve’s hips for support, Steve chuckles and wedges of foot between his thighs, hissing in pleasure when Eddie moans around his cock. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby, taking it so well. Gonna come now, yeah? You gonna swallow for me? Wanna see you swallow.” 

Eddie moans again, tapping Steve’s thigh twice, and Steve shudders apart above him with a hoarse scream, the bitter, salty taste of his relief exploding all over Eddie’s tongue. Eddie swallows it in long, greedy gulps, throat bobbing with the motion. When Steve releases his hold, allowing him to pull back, he licks up the drops that have escaped with his tongue, one long, thorough drag at a time. Steve sighs in bliss and tips his head back, fingers running through Eddie’s hair, massaging soothing circles into his stinging scalp. 

“You good, baby?” 

Eddie, currently busy with sucking the last traces of come off Steve's tip, hums vaguely, head too fuzzy for words. When Steve huffs and drops to his knees, he whines in protest. 

“Hey,” Steve says, cradling his head in both hands, fingers ghosting over the spots that are still raw and tingly where he hit him. His brow is furrowed in concern, his touch as gentle as his voice. It makes Eddie’s eyes sting again, but for entirely different reasons. “Hey, talk to me. I wasn't too- Fuck, Eddie, I didn't hurt you, did I?” 

His eyes are large and round and worried like those of a confused puppy dog, and Eddie’s head is so ridiculously tingly, he can't stop the laugh that bubbles out of him. 

“Only in the best ways, big boy,” he slurs, breaking into a fresh fit of giggles at the way his voice comes out, all hoarse and wrecked from Steve's cock. 

Steve's face is full of fond exasperation as he leans closer, brushing his lips over Eddie’s burning cheeks.

“You're impossible, y’know that?” he mutters, pressing a long, lingering kiss to Eddie’s lips, making a face when he tastes himself there. 

“I know,” Eddie winks. “Luckily, you know how to put me in my place, huh?” 

“Yeah, right,” Steve snorts, pulling them both to their feet. Eddie’s legs feel like jelly, and so he ends up cradled against Steve’s chest, cheek squished into the soft fabric of the varsity jacket. “Right now, the only place I wanna put you is the shower.” 

He sends a pointed look at the dark, wet spot staining the crotch of Eddie’s jeans.

“Yes, captain,” Eddie quips, attempting a mock salute that almost makes him topple. Steve rolls his eyes, ignoring Eddie’s surprised yelp as he scoops him up bridal style to carry him towards the bathroom. 

“You enjoyed it then?” 

Eddie looks up to find Steve’s eyes trained ahead, the faintest pink blush coloring his cheeks. 

“Well, duh,” he says. “Why you askin’? You aren't still worried-” 

“No,” Steve blurts. He pauses to set Eddie down and flick on the bathroom lights, licking his lips before he continues. “Yes. I always worry about you, you know that. It's just, I…” 

He trails off, blush darkening as he chews on his bottom lip. Then, so quietly Eddie needs to strain his ears to catch it, he mutters, “Maybe I'd like to … y’know … try it the other way round, some time.” 

Eddie feels his face split into a grin, so wide his cheeks start hurting all over again. 

“You know what?” he says, reaching out to undo Steve’s pants again. “I love that. Next time, I’m gonna be the big, bad drug dealer and you won’t have any money to pay for your fix.” 

If the way Steve’s cock twitches in his hand is any indication, this is an excellent idea.

More smutty September

[mayasaura]

What were your thoughts on that theory that the Tridentarii were actually conjoined at birth?

Ianthe neglected to mention it when she was regaling the dinner party with the story of Corona's umbilical cord almost strangling her in the womb, but that doesn't mean it's not possible! I haven't heard this theory before, that's fun. Do you mean it as physical symbolism of their codependency, to go with having the same arithmonym?

I think if I were going to assign the Tridentarii another twin-related fetal health complication to make symbolism from, I'd give them TTTS. Twin-Twin Transfusion Syndrome. It's when twins sharing a placenta have an imbalance in the blood exchanged; one twin sends more blood than it receives, and the other receives more blood than it sends. It's like that "one of them received more nutrients in the womb" meme, only with a net effect that's negative for everyone involved. Sooooo Third House chique.

[soraviie]

you assume it's unrequited.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ navigation

━ about: largely angst, some fluff; reader has a crush but thinks that it's one-sided — it's not

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━ read the continuation in "pining for you.txt"

━ leave behind a comment or I'll stab you with chopsticks

NAMJOON | The routine itself is quite simple. The rules to be observed are only five — it leaves enough leeway to mold oneself should problematic situations arise.

Rule no. 5: don't accept any gifts.

It's the fact of nature really — humans love gifts. Like corvids, people adored their shiny little trinkets and it is a well-known fact that giving someone something makes them feel special. Adored. But since you couldn't be either of those things, it helped to cut any straying thoughts right in the bud. Hence when he offers to get a cup of coffee from the aggravatingly chique brewery across the street you decline and make a quick stage left.

Which conveniently segways to rule no. 4.

Rule no. 4: no lingering around.

The job is thankful in that way — there's always something to do. Whenever you see his silhouette from the corner of the eye which is not exactly hard — he is big — you flee to safety. If he somehow manages to round the exact same hallway you're in and tosses a hand into the air in lieu of a greeting whilst handing out one of those unfairly charming, dimpled smiles, you follow the rule and as such return a simple nod of recognition, hastily heading the other way.

Should he enter the same room, you're quick to grab anything near and dig deep into a dark corner where inevitably you grow invisible. It's a big company — there's always spaces to hide and you're just another nobody.

Safe to say you never pass him messages or even go near his studio. That can be left to your colleagues who are far more enthusiastic about doing that sort of thing.

Rule no. 3: no conversations.

That is...easy. You think.

"Hi!"

You lifted your head from where your hands were trembling around the paper forms. You regarded him with a blank stare, surprised that not only he'd chosen to talk to you out of all the dozens of people buzzing around the room but also that he was gracious about your lack of friendly disposition.

"Hello," you rasped back, becoming acutely aware of the way everyone is staring.

"You must be new," he remarked, casually plopping down to, for some inexplicable reason, sit next to you, breathing a deep sigh of content. For a second his thigh grazed yours — you shirked away.

"S'pose."

There was a steady pause of silence in which you both just...were.

"You have to write-"

"I know what I have to do."

The finger that previously so helpfully was pointing out at the blank space in the registration form froze mid air. You darted your gaze far away from his unsure, inquisitive stare, tightening your grip around the thin and otherwise helpless paper.

"I'm sorry. What I mean is...I've worked here for three years now — it's just been remote. So I know what to do I'm just..." you laid a palm on your chest — where the bubble was. The bubble that makes it hard to breathe and pressed down on your ribs with such terrible strength your vision grew hazy.

"I think I'm having a panic attack."

Yeah, it was easy to not have a conversation with him afterwards. He must be just as embarrassed as you — what with catching you as you collapsed on the floor just seconds after the first greeting.

Rule no. 2: no touching.

For the most part it's easy to observe. You don't want to be in the same room with him, let alone touch him but sometimes he's just so friendly. If once upon a blue moon you have the misfortune of being stuck with him, you've taken note of how often he reaches to pat you on the back, attempts to carry your things, accidentally bumps into you on those short walks between one location to the next. However, by now you're a professional and you evade all of those damning times of contact with mannered ease.

It is only rule no. 1 that gives you trouble. It's difficult to not think about Kim Namjoon. Not only because his face is splattered across half the world's billboards but because it is Kim Namjoon and oftentimes after long hours of dutifully observing all the other rules, you lay vapidly on the bed and break the one that mattered the most. Too much you think about him and too much time is given to dreams that would never, ever come true.

"Hey, _____________."

You jolt at the sound of another's voice, especially since the room should be empty. As you uncrane your neck from the cramped position by the router on the floor, you find Kim Namjoon poking his somewhat unkempt head through the door. And Kim Namjoon finds himself standing yet again in front of you , breaking all the rules he put between him and the danger that is you. He has no viable reason for asking everyone your whereabouts and then coming here where he confirmed you'd be. There's no merit in him checking the status of HYBE's malfunctioning router but very selfishly he clings even to this most pathetic excuse — if only to take a glimpse at you.

"Hello," diplomatically, you bid back. "The uh...cable is broken."

As a means of an evidence that no one asked for, you wave the plastic around.

"I'll go ask Haejun. She has a shit-ton of spares.''

"We can—" but before he could even reach out to grab onto you, to make you linger around just a little bit longer for the sake of his horrid selfishness, the doors are already closing behind you.

"—go together..." Namjoon lets the sentence finish in the dissatisfied silence fallen over the room.

YOONGI | It should be societally acceptable for one, on occasion, to smash their fucking head against the fucking wall. Though you've turned away from him by now, in such as fast motion there's a definite possibility of your spinal disk rupturing, the disgusting act has been caught and observed. He's caught you looking. Leering. He must be repulsed. You put back the money you've been counting for the last five minutes and with a quiet mutter to a coworker excuse yourself to the back-alley.

"Ah, I don't want to be around that gangster," she cries pathetically, spotting the black haired man at the far end of the counter. Whiskey. Top shelf. A double. The first time you glimpsed him sipping 43% proof alcohol with the ease a child would a juice box, you cursed heavens above — men such as that inevitably acted vile afterwards. Cursing, being loud, groping — it'd just be more headache for you but he was surprisingly different. As if having been aware of the ill suspicion you've been harboring, once he was done, the man brought his glass back, bowed politely and quietly rasped a thank you about your hospitality.

To this day you had no idea whether it was meant genuinely or not.

"He's not a gangster," tiredly, you cut back. Even if he was, he was a polite one. "Just pour him his whiskey when he asks and that's it."

Her lips thin from the nerves as she examines him. His hair is longer now but in her eyes it probably doesn't soften the least bit of his features. In the end, she relents and her harpy like fingers let go of your elbow. Pouting, you rub the sore flesh but quickly leave. You think he's still looking at you, no doubt judging you for slobbering.

"What?" you mutter to yourself grumpily, climbing down the poor lit staircase that led to the reeking trash bins outside. "It's not a crime to have a crush on someone."

Ah, you're a pervert, you groan in your mind, kneeling down the wall. One of these days you'll have to scratch your manager's eyes out in order to get a chair.

You fish out the pack of cigarettes from the apron and in the singular beat between one second and the next, someone speaks right next to you:

"Care to share?"

You scream and almost fling yourself into the trash all while the black haired man looks down upon you.

The first drops of rain begin to fall down on your face and you squint on the automated instinct to protect your eyes.

In his hand he's got a cigarette of his own and you scramble to get the lighter working, cringing at the shooting ache as you press it against your rubbed off skin.

"Here," you outstretch the flame towards him. He hums appreciatively and leans down, briefly putting his much larger palms over yours to stabilize the fire. You hiss in pain.

"Sorry. My hands are rough, I know," he grouses and you shake your head mutely. Jesus fucking Christ on a bike. Even just standing next to him knocks the breath out of your lungs.

"No...it's not that. Your hands are nice," your face scrunches up. "I mean they're fine."

He regards you with a slightly lopsided smirk. You cough and take a drag out of the cigarette.

"These things are not good for health, you know," he shuffles a bit, shoes scuffing against the grey pavement below. They're really shiny and now that you could focus on anything besides his cruelly handsome face, you take in the fact the fact that he was actually wearing a suit. Curious.

"You're smoking as well," defensively, you spit back and sagely, he inclines his head.

"I'm trying to quit. Unsuccessfully. Clearly," he snorts to himself, lips widening into arid, mirthless grin. You think your guts just rearranged themselves. What's happening here, currently, was the smell of the trash leaking into the bins, the cool air blowing a trail of goosebumps up your arm. Your legs are aching, somewhere down your spine there is a yet unidentified pain and both of you smell like smoke and still you've never seen a man so beautiful, despite the grody settings.

"Why you're wearing a suit today?" just at the last second you manage to bite your tongue to not call him sir. For all intents and purposes he's still a costumer. Had your manager heard of you smoking by the trash with one of the most high-paying patrons, she'd drown you in the very bin juice but this doesn't feel...forced. He doesn't feel like a customer and you don't feel like just another person in customer service.

"Are you killing someone?" you tease further, testing the edges and luckily he responds in earnest — dropping his head back and howling a mute laughter into the night.

"No, nothing so dramatic," he chuckles. "I had a...corporate event. Of sorts."

"You don't look like an office drone," you drawl, for the first time actually taking him in. That is, without the leering. As a bartender, over a time a certain kind of knowledge builds. You've seen what the poor wear, what the middle class wears and what the rich wear, and this man was certainly well-off. His suit, though nothing extravagant, is well-fitted and the material is expensive. No one of that stature would ever fit inside a cubicle.

"That's cause I'm not. Say, you don't watch a lot of TV, do you?" even in the piss-poor lighting of the foul alleyway, his eyes glimmer with barely hidden amusement. It plays on the corners of his lips as though he was trying his hardest to not smile.

"No, I don't..." you frown. "Why?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I actually like it that way."

"Ah, shit," you drag the last smoke from the cigarette before throwing it away. "Sara always said you were into shady shit. Shame she was right."

"Sara...that's the little girl, right? One whose scared of me?"

"Mmm," you hum in agreement.

"That's good."

As your eyebrows knit together in confusion, he also puts out the cigarette with a side of yet another teasing smirk. By this point, you were growing accustomed to it. Seeing it, however, not be unfazed by it.

"I much more like you. Well," he claps his hands together, the sound falling a bit too loud in the otherwise quiet back alley. "I've got to get going. Will you be working tomorrow?"

"Uh...yeah," dumbly, you respond and the nameless man looks mighty pleased.

"Good. See ya."

He turns to walk away, leaving you alone and befuddled by the backdoor only to lean back as though he suddenly remembered something.

"These are bad for you," his hand snatches the pack of cigarettes shamelessly out of your grasp and only then he deems it fit to make an exit.

JIN | "Look, the love of your life is walking over!"

"Shut the fuck up."

It's 8:30 in the morning and the sun is already scorching. You've gotten off an eight hours flight and somehow you're still hangover. To be less verbose — you're not putting up with any bullshit. And your friend cooing in the ear the second they saw Seokjin climbing out is very much the situation you're far too grumpy to tolerate.

"I'm heading to the forest," you toss over your shoulder, making a hasty beeline to the other part of the shore where the dunes laid quiet and unperturbed. The second you're in their embrace, the tension leaves your body.

By now everyone and their mother knew of the gargantuan and utterly mortifying crush you had on Seokjin. To this day they continued to humor it in the same way they did when you were younger.

"Ahh, look, Jinnie, little ___________ has a crush on you! They even made a card!"

And because you were fourteen and it was a time of great hormones, and you'd still rather kill yourself than ever reveal to older Kim Seokjin outright that you liked him, to everyone's shock, Jin's in particular, you ate the paper card in front of him, growling in between the stiff, glittery bites that obviously you meant a different Seokjin. Seokjin who obviously went to your school even though no one could ever verify his presence.

It's been years and by now you're well out of middle-school but the pathetic squeezing of your heart whenever you saw him, whenever you found yourself in the center of his focus has not yielded. How many years will this continue to drag on? Will he need to be married for this to relent?! With kids?! Dead?!?

With a pitiful groan, you let your forehead hit the dry bark of the nearby tree.

"Ah, fuck."

"Always such a potty mouth."

Anyone else might have taken a glimpse at Jin and pronounced that there was some truth to children's stories where selfless, glamorous princes rode about. While Jin is decidedly not a horse (he could barely even walk as the sand proved to be quite an obstacle), he does look like a prince — carrying a blanket and a small, mysterious bag.

"You get so cold quickly," he half-heartedly scolds, tossing the blanket your way. "Why even come here?"

"You get cold as well," irately, you point out, tugging the fleece around your bare shoulders. Only then you did notice that you were actually freezing.

"I came prepared," carelessly, Jin replies, yanking from some invisible space yet another blanket. "I might be devastatingly handsome but I'm not a bimbo."

"Shame. I happen to like bimbos."

At this point you're just saying shit.

Jin blinks and then with the sincerity of a well-seasoned actor, regards you with a confused stare, face mere millimetres away from yours.

"What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?"

Nervously, your eyes flit all around his face as you inadvertently swallow from the abrupt proximity.

"I don't know," breathlessly, you answer. "What?"

"Sofishticated!"

Well, good news was that if he kept going like this, your pervading illness will be cured.

"Sofishticated! Get it, because it's like sophisticated..."

You leave him standing there, shouting across the dunes.

"Hey, Ji-Yeong told Cindy to tell Eun-Sook to tell Riri-"

Over the loud roar of the working stove, you attempt to clean your eyes free from the onion and give your friend a good yell.

"GET TO THE POINT!"

"JIN IS LOOKING FOR YOU! HE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!"

And because you're a brave, self-sufficient person of 21st century you pretend not to hear and whenever you see a glimpse of shoulders too broad to be on anyone else but him, you run and hide.

You know exactly what he wants to talk about and thus you'd rather, much rather, with a smile on your face in fact, chew your fucking toe off. Because as stupid as you were now, you were infinitely more stupid last summer. The summer during which you got so plastered on tequila the night ended with you confusing very much real, warm-blooded sentient Jin for a cutout. A cutout which you clung onto like a mad person and proceeded to reveal that innermost layer of your heart and how much it was devoted to one very annoying millennial.

It took a lot of pasta and drinking to have the confidence to leave your home once the initial stage of wanting to rot into the sofa ebbed away. You weren't necessarily keen on repeating that week thus the running away. But you also think Jin has caught onto the games and is growing increasingly frustrated with them.

Jin wants to see you, Jin is asking for you, Jin is stopping by and so on and on and on. By now his name doesn't even sound like a word. Even so you keep the charades going, praying for the first time in your life that you could go back to work.

The time is a bit over one in the night. For the most part everyone is sleeping which leaves the back garden of the house you rented near the beach quiet and docile. From here you can hear the waves crashing and for now it's enough to create a piece of your paradise.

"Didn't I tell you that you get too cold easily?"

Cold shivers run up your spine and you quickly swallow, whipping around. The expression on Jin's face is less than impressed.

"Well, hence, I'll be going," you gift a fake smile but quickly stop when you hear what you've never ever heard before.

Jin being angry.

"Stay where you are."

He's not by any means shouting, not even raising his voice in the slightest but the tone leaves not a single space for discussion to take place.

"Sit down."

You do and sternly he watches you do so, eyebrows coming together to create a deep frown. You search for any sign of this being a prank or another one of his jokes but you don't find any. Just him standing and being fed up.

"Now, let us have that talk about last summer."

HOSEOK | It doesn't matter if both of you were adults. He was still your student and you were still his teacher. It didn't matter whether he insisted on you or not, you still should have said no and referred Hoseok back to Marina. She was a better English tutor anyhow even if he very much disagreed.

"Mr Jung, please understand, I am quitting. How can I continue to teach you if I'm not even a teacher?"

His knuckles were white around the edge of the table to which he clung to as you leisurely piled your things into boxes. These two years were good, just not good enough to stay.

"Marina is horrible," he complains, the sound falling a bit muffled through the mask but its quality of desperation is not reduced. "Please, you can't just leave! Not with all of the progress we've made!"

A bit of clunky choice of phrasing if you had to say because what progress did you make? Was it the progress of being indifferent, to growing shy around him, to dreaming about him in the middle of all the lonely nights only to then choke on all those fantasies? Because if it was that progress, it would do you some good to leave. Would do you both some good.

"_______________, please, make an exception?" he pleaded, eyes sparkling and you had felt your resolve breaking even then. "For me? Your favourite Hobi?"

With your walls falling apart, you hadn't even noticed how casually he'd referred to you.

"Stop bouncing your knee," Marina growls underneath the nose as she sips on the coffee. Her exam materials are displayed haphazardly on the table before her, littered with large crumbs of her banana and hazelnut croissant.

"I can't help it," you retort just as morose, nervously eyeing the clock pinned to the wall.

12:01 — he should be done by now.

"You're so in love with him," Marina rolled her eyes, striking a bold red line across one student's essay. 4/100. Rough.

"It's my job as a teacher to make sure he passes his tests," you brittle venomously. "If I don't-"

Before you could so much as finish your sentence, a pair of judgmental eyes sit transfixed upon your face in a heated glare.

"You're not a teacher anymore. You quit and tutor him entirely unofficially," Marina interrupts curtly. "So the excuse of it being that is redundant if anything. Moreover, he's a whole ass grown man. He certainly doesn't need someone like you to fret over him."

Just then your phone dings with an unread message causing both of your eyes to fall on top of it.

"Your prince Charming is calling," she states coldly. "Go ahead and pick up."

You don't think you'll ever hang out with Marina after this.

Hoseok 💗 sent you a message.

The heart he'd added himself, chiding you one night for assigning such a cold contact info.

Hoseok 💗: I PASSED! I KNOW IT! I'VE NEVER FELT SO CONFIDENT! 😻💓〇(＞∀＜)〇

me: I told you you could do it and you didn't believe in yourself ( ￣＾￣)

Hoseok 💗: hahaha yes o great teacher you've always been so supportive! thank you! ( ♥‿♥)

Then after a moment comes the last message.

Hoseok 💗: thank you, __________________.

As your phone grows dark, you see your own reflection — the giddy smile, the lovesick eyes. The pathetic, eager nature that is you around Hoseok. For a second you let yourself be and let your hand press the phone to your chest as if the meaningless emojis and hearts actually signified anything other than the cursory respect he had for you as his tutor. Then you gather yourself.

If Hoseok will pass his test, he'll be technically viewed as fluent and as such you will be of no use anymore.

You wipe the grin of your face, slip the phone in your pocket and walk back home, pretending that none of this is hurting you.

JIMIN | "Stay still," you scold him, immediately receiving a pout in return.

"I am staying still!" he whines.

Though you roll your eyes, you don't argue anymore and continue to measure his neck. If he wanted to layer his necklaces, you'll have no choice but to measure every chain's length to its absolute nanometer. If they overlayed too much it'd just be a mess and Jimin deserved nothing but the best.

"Now, remember, this is the bag for my jewelry," you remind him sternly, waving the grey pouch just before escorting him to the door. The night is deep. Ever since you wound up having Park Jimin as a regular client your sleep schedule has been wrecked. Thinking about the wording, you cringe, cutting a finger against one of the waywardly left awls on the table. Had your old teacher saw the mess on your workstation, the old crow would probably smack you across the face.

Hissing at the sharp prick, you cradled the hand with a juicy curse on the tongue. Jimin, who'd previously been seconds away from falling asleep (which has happened. Safe to say, having an idol drooling on your couch was awkward, just not as awkward as the morning that followed), yanks his head towards you with laser like focus.

"Show me," he insists, expectantly holding out his palm so that it can join yours. You regard it with a passive stare before taking a step back.

"It's just a cut on a finger," you brush him off, coughing from the abruptly stifled atmosphere gripping your lived-in studio. Jimin appears to be quite displeased. One of the simultaneous advantages and disadvantages of being so close to your models for such an extended time was that by the end of it you knew all of their micro-expressions like the back of your hand. From the tightened way his jaw sat to the coldness in his gaze — he was angry. Jimin was a bit like an April day in that way — always surprising you. Was it good or bad, you did not quite know.

"Here, take this," you outstretched the pouch, sucking a bit on the pricked finger. His eyes seemed to linger there before he averts his gaze, taking the bag with his jewelry.

"You look beautiful in them."

Was it a low blow? Perhaps. But it felt somewhat uneasy, problematic even to let him leave your studio in a huff. With the oncoming release of his album he was already stretched taut. You were half surprised he hadn't yet hit a complete mental breakdown by now. Just following his schedule as a jeweller made your hairs grow grey. Still, as expected the compliment mellows the bout of his sudden attitude.

"Eyyy," he complains, tad cautiously. You weren't after all friends, however, the borders of the proper behaviour became blurred the second he showed up on your doorstep outside both of his company's knowledge or permission. As far as you understood it, he actually sponsored your work out of his own pocket. You could recall that night in fine detail — having a national treasure known as Park Jimin sipping a tea out of cracked cup and asking you to create pieces for him. How he'd came to know of you, he did not reveal and after a while you ceased asking.

"You always do this," he continues, rousing you out of deep though.

"Do what?" innocently, you blink up at him. "I've committed no wrongdoing."

"You always compliment me," he pouts, scuffing the sole of his slipper against the floor. They were in the shape of large fluffy cows. You'd offered him a change but since this pair was given to him on that first meeting, he insisted he'd grown fond of them.

"You know how much I like compliments..."

That you did. Once in a while you let them slip a bit too liberally which is something you'd sincerely need to work on. Having a crush on Park Jimin, unrequited one at that, would anyhow lead to nothing. It was simply futile.

"I can't ever stay mad at you."

"Sorry, for being too charming," you flip a strand of non-existent hair over your shoulder prompting a peel of loud, disbalanced laughter. "Now, this is the bag for my jewelry. Don't mix them up with the one you're supposed to wear for Tiffany which by the way..." you narrow your eyes at him. "Traitor."

Still laughing he pats down your head, eyes crinkling in that expression of pure happiness that you adored to see so much.

"Babyyyy, don't be mad. You're still my favourite one."

Had you not been so irrevocably and disgustingly fond of this man you would have kicked him for making your heart feel like this.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you groused, taking his hand away from your head. "Now go. Good night."

"Can't I crash here?" he pleads, shifting eagerly on the spot. "It's so late at night..."

"And whose fault is that?" you arch an eyebrow pushing at Jimin's back to get him out of your doorstep. "Rich man goes home and sleeps in his rich man bed."

Sensing an easy target in your words, Jimin gleans over his shoulder, his broad smirk proudly on display.

"Does rich man have to be alone?"

"Bye!"

You watched him secretly behind the broken, off white blinds of your kitchen window. The alleyways in this part of the town are narrow, only barely could Jimin's car make way. It's no surprise that no matter what time it is, it attracts the curious glances of your neighbours. The old man at unit 4b across the road was also looking in — the shitty blue tinted light of his crap ass apartment makes his silhouette glaringly apparent in the window. You scowl at him and for a good measure throw up a bird before accompanying Jimin with your eyes. Happily he gets into the car and drives back home where he'll be safe. Now you can rest easy. Somewhat.

"Good night, Jimin," you whisper into the darkness where the only other company you had was the ever-present droning of your old fridge.

TAEHYUNG | Leaning against your hand and watching him speak you think of everything and simultaneously of nothing at all. Though it was not a crime to fall in love with your friend, it very much felt that way sometimes. Times like these when you fantasized how would it feel to hold his hand or to hug him. Not that you didn't know how that felt like. If he could, Taehyung would crawl and make a home in your ribs but he didn't understand. He didn't understand the...spectrum of love you harboured for him. From where he looked onto it the hues were all blue whilst you were far too red.

Red, as you discovered, was not that good of a colour.

"________________? You're not even listening to me, are you?"

Blinking owlishly, you stirred in the seat. The screaming ache in your muscles offers proof to how long you'd been staring at him. Pathetic. You shift your eyes away from the mix of frustration and worry in the browns of his eyes and instead let it sit where's it safe — on the impersonal linoleum cover of the cheap dumpling bistro.

"I was listening," you mumble hazily. "You were...taking Yeontan...for a grooming session, no?"

He sighs.

"Actually I said Jungkook was bitching in my voice mails about having to get a haircut. Are they the same for you?"

You think about it.

"I plead the fifth?"

In spite of it only prompting a thoroughly sassy eye roll from the nominee of 2022 MAMA song of the year, he doesn't much complain, though stuffing his face full of noodles, he does ask. You would rather he didn't.

"What's wrong with you lately? You've been...spaced out."

To feign ease you don't dream of having, you snort.

"Look whose talking."

"Exactly," smartly, he agrees still chewing somewhat aggressively. "If I notice, you know it's bad."

Averting your gaze away once more, you shrug.

"It's nothing serious."

"You sure? 'Cause I was thinking maybe you felt...lonely?"

The so-thin-it's-almost-transparent menu in between your fingers freeze as your heart drops down into your stomach.

"What makes you say that?" lightly, presumably lightly, you wonder.

"Dunno," he shrugs, swallowing a bite so large you can see it travelling down his throat. How he had not yet choked was beyond any science. "It's just you've got no pets, no friends beside me and your place is always quiet so it's safe to say you're absolutely dry in the dating apartment."

Your lips purse in an expression of such pure, unfiltered annoyance that for once it doesn't go above his head. Awkwardly, he coughs, shrinking smaller underneath the gaze of your fury.

"Thank you Taehyung," dryly, you praise him. "That's just what I needed."

"Sorry."

Were you lonely? Probably. Who are you kidding? Naturally.

Exhaling into the black winter air, you watch as the miniature clouds colour white before melting into the night. Did you love Taehyung because you were simply...lonely? Could be. Over the years he was the only one who stayed by your side. Even when you did the most to make him leave, so you wouldn't taint him with your...broken-ness, all too obstinately he'd weathered the storms out. He'd not leave you, that was the end of it. Such he promised and such was the promise he kept, no matter what life or yourself threw at him.

As the gust of biting wind rips through the street, you pitifully tremble in its hold. Shit, why was it always so cold.

"Ah, fuck, my ass is going to freeze off," Taehyung curses, coming to stand beside you just outside of restaurant. He still has a soy sauce in the corner of his lip and without much thinking you wipe it off.

You're both grasping for words.

"My hand is cold," he suddenly complains, swinging on the back of his heels.

"Should have brought gloves then," you retort grumpily. "I certainly don't need you to spend all my hand creams. Again."

He pretends to not see the acussal in your glower.

"I have an idea. Friends help each other out, don't they?"

Suddenly, you find yourself not liking the happy turn of his cheek. That smile paired with that particular glint in his eye always meant trouble. And before you know it, his hand is clasped around yours, the heat of it shooting straight down your entire arm.

"There," happily he chirps, dragging your loudly protesting self down the street. "Now I'm warm and you're not lonely. I see this as an absolute win."

JUNGKOOK | Sure, it was hard to be rendered blind in the middle of a busy street as the sky was dumping down rain with terrible vengeance but you'd still wager a guess it felt better to run head first into a pole than seeing...him.

The light of the billboard pours brightly onto the dark, grey streets below whilst the faceless masses rush to their homes, you included. He stands there, being beautiful, being enticing like a whole dream and mocks you. You can't have him and that's fine but why should you also have the sour memory of his existence be rubbed into the wound.

Droplets of rain steadily fall upon your face though you don't even notice them. Not until you've had your fill of Jungkook.

You hope he's happy somewhere in Seoul.

Coming back home, you set the soaked bags of groceries onto the table, monotonously going through the motions of the day. Many, hell, everyone, would probably say that taking a leave from a high-paying job just to come back home and live an utterly boring life was not the way to go but would they also sympathize with growing depressed about the unrequited love you had for someone who was so far out of the reach, you'd officially have to graduate space flight program in order to ever reach the star that was Jungkook?

No, you don't think so.

Laundry, cooking, laundry, watching TV, laundry. It doesn't offer much reprieve from thoughts about Jeon Jungkook but at least you don't have to look at him and be pathetic. And sure you're miserable but at least somewhat of your dignity is preserved. Even if it's the tiniest, barely existent sliver a man has ever seen.

You don't regret never approaching him. He never went out of his way to say hi, he never so much as glimpsed in your general direction if you were loitering around the room. You remember how hard it was to breathe when the time came to adjust his mic on his chest and you also remember how he'd just sat there, disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. On those rare times you noticed him watching you, there was always a distant gleam in his gaze. He was probably just zoning out and you happened to be there. On those even rarer times that you helped him, he always appeared so unperturbed. He was polite but that was it. Just a polite thank you and long, stretching moments of quiet, that was the only real memory you had of him.

In the end, the whole thing was quite embarrassing and so despite it being abrupt, it felt right to hand in your resignation. He didn't need yet another sick fucker drooling over him....neither did you want to be that person. So why not quit. Why not?

By the time it's evening, you're beyond bored. No TV shows interest you, no movies catch your attention, the span of your focus is too short to read a book and you're too tired to go for a walk. Surely it wouldn't hurt...

When your old computer turns on, it makes itself known. Unlike the sleek, polished versions of HYBE, the surface is so hot it could boil an egg and the sound that comes out of this pre-historic artefact could easily pass off as a roar of a plane. It takes about half an hour for the email to load, so much so that when you come back with a cup of tea, the screen is still suspiciously unresponsive.

Seeing 99+ unanswered messages did not surprise you, what did surprise you was the pile of messages, unanimously sent from one address.

jjkno1@navercorp.com

subject: please

The skin on your palms grow wet and you can hardly hear the rain splashing against the window with how hard your heart is beating. Shakily you press to open the email, hardly having the courage to read the words. You've no idea why the subject is named such a way but you're partially sure that somewhere along the way, he's going to call out your affection. How misplaced it is and how much he's disgusted by it. You'd understand if he did.

jjkno1@navercorp.com

subject: please

Even if...even if the year we spent together meant nothing to you, that the kindness you extended towards me, that the help you sent my way unknowingly pulling me from a pit of unescapable darkness is nothing but an empty void no more deserving of your attention than the dirt on the side of the road, I beg of you to be gracious once more. Just write to me. Just one letter is all I ask for. No matter what you have to say, should it be something as little as one singular "bye", please, write to me. I'll keep you in my thoughts, forever most likely as you've made your home in them.

Sincerely,

Jeon Jungkook.

tagging: @rmstdio; @pinkcherrybombs; @devilsbooksworld; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @jminssiii;

[thebabyprince]

omg you should do some caregiver!matthew patel x reader ^_^

Hiiiii!!!!!! Here ya go, hope you like em <3

(By the way, I got an OVERWHELMING in a good way amount of requests, so I might tale some time doing them all, but I'll try my best :] )

Caregiver! Matthew Patel

Matthew's such a corny, dedicated caregiver... He's almost overbearingly sweet and loving to you, treating you like you're the most precious thing in the whole wide world.

Basically, he spoils you rotten. You don't even have to walk most of the time, cause you get to fly around with him.

Congrats on getting a package deal, by the way! You get not only a cg, but four big sisters as well!! Oh Gosh, Demon Hipster chicks, they love you.... not a second is passed with none of them patting your head or cooing at how adorable you are to them. Matty often reminds them to have some patience and give you space.

"Girls, girls! I know you love them, I get it, but please, show some decorum to the little one!!"

He has, like, 200 petnames for you. Uses them endlessly. The one he uses the most is "prince/princess/little royal", cause that's basically what you are.

When you asked him to be your caregiver, he passed out from happines anime-style. Him!!! Papa Matthew!!! It's such a pleasure.

Turns out he really benefits from caring for a little. It helps him feel more important, and puts his cheesiness to a good use.

Tries to establish rules, but fails tremendously, cause there's no way he can refuse you! How could he?? Look at those eyes! He's a villain, not a monster!

The only thing he can be strict about is fire. No fire magic with a baby in the same room!

Matthew enjoys putting together your outfits, so you can match his tremendous pirate-chique style.

Somehow always has your favorite snacks in his pockets.

Whenever you're crying, his first instinct is to distract you. He tries to show a magic trick, then it goes hilariously wrong, and you start giggling. Success, hah! Another great victory for Matthew Patel!

The type of caregiver who hears you babbling and starts going: "Oh, really? There's just no way! This is so ridiculous, tell me more! That's simply... shocking".

[yourdeluluescapist]

REDEYE | BANGCHAN X Fem!Reader.

A/N: So... I learned I'm god awful at scheduling, and the whiteboard I got didn't help at all. I'm definitely gonna try to keep up the 3 day thing, since the human alarm clock I'm related too would want it. This is like a months work i guess? I might continue this...

✧ “Control your breathing, clear your mind, and switch off the safety. Aim with not only intent to harm but also intent to kill. This is how someone as strong, as beautiful, and as ravishing as yourself protects themselves. Especially from all the filthy men who’d dare try to touch my beloved. Mhm, that’s how, just like that. Good girl.”

Warnings: Mafia, fingering, light murder, guns.

WC: 2111

---

Satin black, hugs the waist, and plays into your hourglass figure. Channie had picked the perfect dress for you. It screamed class and authority, displaying the strong woman you were. Followed with a pair of black heels and an expensive chained purse made with gold. Your black ensemble was there and thriving because of the woman who wore it. And Chan knew you were the only one for it, the only woman who could make something so simple, so plain and empty. Only accentuate your aura more and more until it spreads like pheromones.

You stared at this outfit that was laid out for you on your bed by the maids, thinking about when's the last time you’d laid out an outfit for yourself. The lavish life he’d provided you was amazing. But it always felt weird. With all this fortune, came the right of not having to do most things. Since others just did it for you. It felt as if it was false solace. Business was the only thing  keeping you busy, and when it wasn't you were with chan, cuddling with chan, or loving chan. 

You basically revolve around chan nowadays, and thanks to him. This life of riches and sovereignty was real even if it was built with blood illegality. You were already accustomed to that life, and he simply gave it to you the way you knew normal.

But now, business has been on its uptake, more clients willing to deepen your pockets to reduce the earth’s population and more drugs that need moving. Meaning it was a mafia's heyday for profits.

Though, with the added work and illicit moving, that meant an advent of increased danger arose. The only important part being,

It’s become sooo dangerous, even for you pretty women. Had to get their hands dirty in the case of  “self defense.”

Chan, obviously aware of that fact, decided that it’s high time for you to learn to shoot a gun. With him as your teacher, and you being a quick learner. The method of concept, method, and exposure would make this quick and easy.

After you got dressed in this empowering outfit, you stood in front of the mirror in quiet admiration, though the outfit was basic. It had class to it, a certain chique if you will. You liked the look even though it isn’t as flashy as what you're normally accustomed to.

Distracting you from yourself, You felt a vibration from your phone in your purse that hangs near your side, reaching for it and checking who had texted you. 

It was Chan.

Chan|Y/N

Amor, did you wear the dress I sent for you?

Mhm, it’s wonderful. Hugs my body perfectly, my love.

Perfect. Remember, it’s a special day today. 

Yes, yes I’m aware mio. It’s only your fifth time reminding me.

Don’t get smart with me. 

Oh I can get as smart as I want too channie, no gun of yours could scare me, you wouldn’t hurt me even if I begged you too.

Whatever.. See you in five, you know where. 

Mhm. I’ll be there. Love you. 

Uhuh.

Say it back, Chan.

Love you too, bitch..

That’s better, I’m overjoyed you came around.

There’s a possibility of pigs flying before he’d understand that he can’t threaten you, you made it clear that the same threats to those little grunts of his doesn’t make you get down and suck his dick till he’s satisfied. You could do that if you wanted, but it all fell on you, and it always will.

You had to be in the basement's firing range in 5 minutes. You wondered what his sadistic method would be, since he always. For some reason, had a kink for it.

_ _ _

The sounds of bullet casings dropping to the floor and metal colliding with the steel targets echoed around the range, a sound you’ve grown used to being there for Chan when he decided to practice his shots. Chan had always been a good shot, but business called for him to improve more and more. Until it was perfect.   

You notice Chan leaning on a wall, his bodyguards not too far from him. It looked like he was waiting for you in the most sour way possible. Noticing that, you decided to make your way over to him to see if he was ready, and to figure out what his sour expression was for. 

“Channie.” You cockily dragged your words. 

“Oh hey baby, you're early.” His sour expression seemed to fade away as he stopped leaning on the wall and stood upright.

You threw yourself into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his back and resting your face on his chest, “Did you miss me, my love?” You asked in a muffled, yet gentle tone, comfortable as you melted into your man’s arms.

“You know I did.” He wrapped an arm around your waist and the other clasped your head that’s laying on his chest.

He gently kisses the top of your head, getting a whiff of your fragrance and letting a satisfied groan, “You smell great, sweetheart.” He mentioned.

“Mhm, I appreciate the verbal reviews.” You let out a slight snicker.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Unfortunately.. I thought I wouldn’t have to since I was but a pretty woman that’s spoiled rotten. Not shooting people for protection, we have bodyguards for all that bullshit!” You whined, distasteful with the fact you had to learn something that should’ve stayed unimaginable.

“It has to happen, my love. Shit’s getting dangerous now, bullets are flying everywhere like the air we breathe. I’d be destroyed if I had to get the news that you caught one.” He wept, his grip tightening around your waist in what seemed to be an expression of his worry.

“Chan it’s okay, I get your point.” You let out an awkward, yet worrisome laugh. Tightening your grip in response since you knew it affected him.

“I just need to at least know my baby is able to defend herself in case of a situation like that. Meaning, I wanna be the one to teach you.” He explained to you in a somber tone.

His unexpected sweet and worrisome tone caught you off guard, you weren’t ready to see him get all mushy and fragile like that. Deep down, you knew he noticed you were joking, but he couldn’t hide how much he cared for you, bringing out a warm smile out of  your muffled face.

You pulled your head off of his chest, your arms still locked around him and said, “Then, would you like to teach me so we can keep it to others being the bullet sponges?” You release one of your arms from his back, lifting your hand up to his and resting it on his cheek. 

“Yeah right, sorry.” He uses his hand to gently take your hand from his face. Let's head over to the range.” He consented.

“Okay, my love.” You unhook him from your clutches, taking a couple steps back to release yourself from his embrace and give him space. 

You grabbed his unattended hand and began to walk and guide him over to the range.

After you made it to your section of the range, Chan handed you a gun embroidered in silver. Your Initials, Y/N engraved on the entire barrel of the gun.

“Oh shit, is this for me?” You ask in a slight stoic tone, not completely since your moral compass decided to make yet another terrible entrance and is now making you question. If you should be happy for a gun or not. It didn't matter, he was never fun anyway.

“Mhm, it was made personally for you. If you hafta defend yourself, You oughta be sexy and stylish.

“This is why I love you.” You gently smiled

“I love you too, baby. But now I need you to focus,” His voice went low, stern, and most definitely assertive. You could already tell that he was about to shoot orders at you and you just had to try your best to follow.” 

“First, Plant your feet firmly on the ground and get a good grip on the gun.” 

You assumed a strong stance and gripped your gun with vigor.

“Next, line your sights with the target until it’s a clear shot.”

You line the sights with the target in front of you, until you had a clear shot. 

“Now, rest your index finger just shy of the trigger and brace your hands..” 

You rest your index finger mere inches away from the trigger, and you braced your hands for whatever came next.

“Lastly, curl the trigger and let it fly.”

You curled the trigger. A loud bang and a harsh, violent force slamming into your hands following after.

“Holy fuck, that was loud. And my hands are tingling like all hell now.” You put down the gun and turn to Chan while trying to catch your breath, winded from the force.

“Forget all that, you hit him straight on the money!” Chan exclaimed, proud of you for hitting the target.

“Him? What do you mean, him?” You shoot a suspicious eyebrow to him, confused now realizing you never paid attention to what the target was.

“Oh baby look! You got a headshot  on him.” He started to lean on your shoulder and pointed towards the target you had hit.

You turned your head to where he’d been pointing, to notice it wasn't a normal target, it was a man with a bag over his head. Completely tied up from head to toe with his mouth gagged with a rag. At least, that was before he was lying on the floor with a pool of blood streaming from the hole in his head because of the bullet.

“Oh my god, Chan…. That was maybe the most twisted idea you’ve ever had.” You gasped, a bit uncomfortable by the methods.

“Sorry, I just had to prepare you for how it is.” He apologized in a somber manner, not regretful of his actions.

“It’s okay, I get it. Just a little off the grid is.” You mellow with him, understanding that sometimes normal isn't the best option.

“Okay, but for something more on the grid. I planned to reward you for doing so well.” He said, a smirk forming on his face.

“Oh? And how would you th-” 

He had cut you off by pinning you to the nearest wall and immediately started to kiss your neck, the kisses getting deeper and rougher the more he continued his barrage.

He pauses his lovely attack on you for a brief moment to say, “Since you pulled that trigger so well, I wanted to treat you like a trigger.” He hints in a seductive tone, going back to kissing your neck and playing a moving hand on your thigh. 

Wasting no time, that hand never strayed from its course, pulling up the hem of your dress and beginning to caress in between your legs. 

You could tell where this hand's goal was, and you werent gonna even try to stop its advances, since its goal was already drooling for it.

“Just do it, Chan, treat me like a barrel.” You submitted to him, happy with whatever he’d do to please you.

Hearing that, he stopped teasing you and immediately went to your vagina, rubbing two fingers across your labia and eventually inserting those same two inside you. 

“Don't stop, Chan.” You panted relentlessly, since he never stopped kissing your neck and he only added more to the load.

He began to kiss your neck harder, and curl his fingers that were inside you. He was going like he was trying to set a record making you cum. And with the way those curls got faster, and your arms wrapping around him. He was definitely setting something new. 

He only got more passionate the louder you got. He didn’t care if the guards could see or hear them, it really only turned him on more. He knew that this was his palace and he could please you whenever, and wherever the fuck he wanted. 

But not after too long, he went as hard as possible, and his reward. Coated the entirety of his hand.

“Are you proud of yourself, Channie?” You said, absolutely blown out from his actions. 

“Not really, I was simply pleasing what’s mine.” He said in a cocky tone.

“Mhm..” You leaned in towards his face and stole a kiss from his lips.

You always loved how he’d do things, it’s just something sweet, then something pleasurable. It was great being his.

[skullvgirl]

isagi at the met gala : garden of time

incl. my favorite omg, when is season 2 coming out i wonder 💔

warnings. none

an's. i saw this from somewhere and also just wanted to post. its fluff, hopenu enjoy. might make a part two somewhere soon

MAY 30th, Thursday : Arrival

SPEAKER : and now, coming to you live from Newports Canada, the new and impressionable team members for BLLK have just arrived !

as you can hear in the background there are a multitude of screams going off from the many fans of this new group has, thankfully i was lucky enough to book a registered speaking time with the players as well as their manager and head coach.

[ the camera pans to Anri and Ego next to her. Anri smiles and waves, Ego stares blankly ]

SPEAKER : Oh my gosh its so great too meet you both, Anri and Ego right?

[ they both nod ]

SPEAKER : Great, so tell me about what you two have on today, I'll start with Anri if that's okay.

ANRI : yeah, yeah—excuse me if i stutter, this our first time being here ever—

SPEAKER : oh no, no, you're totally okay

[ Anri giggles nervously, Ego continues too stare quietly ]

ANRI : so today I have on customs from V-KULL and Marc,—my shoes are from Marc, dress is from V-KULL, I'm obviously not the star of the show so I don't do anything too crazy, don't @ me, but I still think the garden look represents, kinda what the boys will bring to the table yeah?

[ what she's wearing ]

SPEAKER : wow! yeah no, you look amazing, and don't worry i think its a very chique and straightforward look that you went with, you look great !

ANRI : [ flushed ], oh really? thank you !

SPEAKER : no problem! and moving on too you Ego, describe your look for us will you?

[ Ego yawns into the camera with unfiltered apathy ]

EGO : Suit is from TOGS, boots are from Marc, Tie is from V-KULL,—watch is from Versacé. [ he lifts his watch to the camera approvingly ] Anri picked it all out. She also forced me here so.

[ what he's wearing ]

SPEAKER : hahaha, okaayy, well thats great It looks like Anri did a great job. I see you have a more the more emphasised look on the sunflowers, could you tell me about that?

EGO : What? Oh yeah, sun flowers grow in gardens right? That's the inspiration, pretty much. [ deadpan ]

ANRI : his mom—also, [ she glances over to Ego for a moment ] used to love sunflowers, so there's that too. [ nervous laugh ]

SPEAKER : oh, we'll thats beautiful! thank you for sharing—oh and would you look at that ! the BLLK team players have just arrived, I'll pass it onto you Y/N.

[ Ad. Coming back from break with Y/N in her interviewer dress next too an all smiles Isagi ◡̈ ]

YN : thank you, SPEAKER—and to pick up right from where you started I'm here with Isagi Yoichi, our D1 forward and first interviewee of today, so Isagi—how are you?

ISAGI : well thank you for asking, I'm doing pretty good. [ thumbs up, glance at camera ] I'm just so greatful me and my boys had the privilege to be invited out here and uh, yeah my great manager and coach have really been helping me with that also so yeah. [ slightly awkward smile ]

YN : well thats great ! Im glad to hear you're feeling good, while the rest of your teammates arrive can you tell me about the look you have on today?

ISAGI : yeah no problem I uh, so I'm actually in a set with two of my buddies from the team, when they get here I guess you'll see that, but uhm suit is from TOGS, all the little embroidery was done by V-KULL apparently, shoes are from MARC and gloves are from MARC as well [ smiles ]

[ what he's wearing ]

YN : wow, yeah no thats beautiful!—

ISAGI : like yourself. [ straight face, not making eye contact ]

YN : [ eyes buldge, professional voice, suddenly nervous ] PFFT—why thank you, this is only my interveiw dress, but in case anybody was wondering, dress is custom from V-KULL, everything else is from ALL SAINTS haha. [ nervous laughter ]

[ what you're wearing ]

ISAGI : [ glances at your shoes, is now locked in on your shoes ] Thoes are cute too, matches your skin really well. [ the camera zooms in on his face, his skin is a pretty tinted red ]

YN : [ you look at your shoes ] Thank you! Like I said their from ALL SAINTS so. Ya' know, it's all facy smancy and stuff. [ laughs obnoxiously ]

[ a moment of silence passes as you and ISAGI both stare at each other. then the two of you suddenly burst out laughing ]

ISAGI : TAHAHHAA—ahem, well I think my teamates have just arrived—sorry guess my time it up. Why don't you take it from here YN?

YN : AKKAKAK— [ fake cough ] yeah, that'd be great—I'll see you around probably [ =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ] ! Love you, bye !

[ ISAGI had already began to turn around but turns his head and smiles [ ദ്ദി(˶‾᷄ᗜ‾᷅˵ ᵕ) ]

ISAGI : Bye, Love you too !

[ camera pans back towards YN, struggling to keep it together ]

MAY 31st, Friday : The Day After

many, many, many people people were already estatic when it waa revealed that some of the BLLK players were or had been invited too the MET GALA as guests of honor so imagine their faces when everyone across the world waa telling them that one of these said players was flirting with the very beautiful YN. no really go on, imagine. thats right, they went ballistic. edits left and right, requesting interveiws from both sides, and lord the buckets of fanfics poured and dumped onto the already growing fanbase the BLLK players had. isagi specifically, alot comments were made about his attempt too be smooth.

"he was so adorable looking at her like that, wish someone would look at me that way..."

"and don't even get me started on YN and the way she was acting, all shy and cute like it wasn't her job to be talking to him. it was funny really."

"isagi is such a simp it's crazy, although it makes sense why someone would act that way–i'd be the same if i got a chnace to stand so close too YN"

that is only a snippet of what this oh so daring interview had to offer. interviews with the whe team ( coming soon ) revealed that not just ISAGI had eyes for our precious interviewee. but enough about that, back too YAGI or ISAN ( ship name, deal with it ) something we couldn't forget, and I quote.

YN : AKKAKAK— [ fake cough ] yeah, that'd be great—I'll see you around probably [ =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ] ! Love you, bye !

ISAGI : Bye, Love you too !

how crazy is that? like I said, the edits go crazyyyyy.

an's. shhhh, noooo, shuuush I don't have bigger responsibilities than finishing this....events?? whats tht???

[blu-ish]

🌆▪️Silent Nights▪️

Summary: Someone is sending Shadow mysterious gifts?! [erroneous gift's at that..] leading up to Amy's annual New Year's extravaganza party. Will he be able to figure out who this mysterious pitiful present giver is, before Team Dark sets off on their year lasting G.U.N mission? H-Hey don't ask me, read for yourself! ;)

▪️▪️▪️

Sharp ruby eyes were fixed on the clock, the one that made it's soul purpose agonizing the black hedgehog with it's earsplitting ticking; one that seemed to echo in the otherwise empty G.U.N headquarters. It was already half past eleven, and Shadow wanted to go back to his apartment.

The hour's lethargic hex never reached the ebony agent, it rarely did. Compared to the sluggish movements and gaping yawns the occasional G.U.N solider gave as they retired for the night. Shadow was practically wide awake.

He would temporarily tear his eyes away from the clock to give a cordial nod to the periodic solider who passed him; who in return would either grumble a muffled "night..." though their mask, or salute hastily.

The clock would ring every hour, he wondered if he stared at it long enough it would burst into flames.

At approximately 12:01am, Rouge unceremoniously swung open the doors that led to Commander Towers' office.

"Good morning hun! Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long~" The bat's silklike voice was a welcoming change to Shadow's sensitive ears.

"What happened?" He stated flatly. Earning him a melodramatic sigh and a sorrowful look from the other. He was just stating the obvious.

"Well, apparently someone below screwed up on the one thing they're supposed to be doing. So Team Dark get's to be their clean up crew."

Shadow crossed his arms with a hum, closing his eyes in thought. Rouge continued as they gradually walked away from the lobby.

"Trust me deary, it's a complete mess..." She pressed her gloved finger to her temple, she was drained, he could tell.

He glanced down toward her arm, where she held some folders between them, she slipped them to Shadow and he scanned the pages as they approached Team Dark's office; well, more like Rouge's office, Shadow and Omega only shared the name plates plastered on the door.

"Shamar..?" Shadow recited, the bat hummed tunefully in agreement as she effortlessly slid her keycard through to open the door.

"It's on the whole other side of Mobius, I know." She chuckled, "I'll give you the spill once we get Omega and get the hell out of here."

He agreed, and carefully closed the folder. Rouge was never keen on repeating herself, no matter how trivial.

The lights automatically switched on as the sound of her heels clicked against the polished floor. Lavish wasn't even a close comparison to the grand zeal of the office, it was so... Rouge.

Gem's were lovingly placed on valuable furniture; oh, they weren't real though, those were devotedly hidden in her bedroom, away from prying eyes. Soft sofas, chique wooden tables and bookshelves gave the room a antique feeling, one that Shadow didn't necessarily dislike.

Well, until you looked at the corner near the back of the room, where a huge machine was plugged into the wall. Otherwise known as E-123 Omega.

Rouge sighed, patting the bots frame. "Wake up sleeping beauty, we're off~"

The thumping of metal plates echoed slightly as she moved away to shove some things in her purse from her desk. Omega's form shifted as he stood up, red optics focused on the two Mobians--well, Mobian and one half.

"I HAVE BEEN SITTING AT FULL POWER FOR APPROXIMENTLY 10 HOURS. ONE COULD ASK HOW LONG IT TAKES TO OBTAIN INFORMATION?" Omega's booming robotic voice seemingly questioned.

Shadow noted Rouges clasped hands gripping their respective fabric when she turned towards the bot, if she wasn't careful, he was sure they would rip.

"Well, for someone who slept all day, you sure are grouchy! I would gladly switch places next time if you believe you could do better, dear."

Omega's pause almost pulled a breath of a laugh from Shadow, who was leaning against the wall eyeing the duo. The robot shifted, knowing better than to provoke a sleep deprived bat woman.

"ROAST ACKNOWLEGED. I SHALL NOW, LAY OFF."

"Thank you. Now!" Rouge clapped. "Lets be off, if you boys behave the rest of the way home maybe I'll let you in on the mission details instead of letting you go in blind." Shadow, who had already grabbed her faux-- totally not stolen coat, eyed her.

"Of course, I only stayed here with you outside Towers' door until midnight to make sure you didn't fly home half asleep..."

Rouge gasped breathlessly, "My hero~". He wasn't amused.

After slipping on her coat, she patted the hedgehog on the cheek playfully. "In all seriousness dear, I want you to know I appreciate it, it's more than Robo Aurora offered here."

"I WOULD NEVER FALL VICTIM TO A SPINNING WHEEL."

-------

The reunited trio made they're way to G.U.N's private parking lot, where Shadow parked his prized motorcycle. He had drove Rouge to the meeting with Towers, her being the Team Leader always led to her getting the bulk of the mission information firsthand, not that Shadow minded, he would rather stare at that clock than Towers' disapproving stare.

His vehicle was outfitted with a detachable sidecar, one big enough for Omega that is, Shadow had previously thought of it as a bit silly and impractical in a serious situation. But it grew on him, and well, Omega tolerated it.

"Ugh, the sooner I take a shower the better." Rouge complained for what seemed like the millionth time on their walk outside. He could only hum in agreement, bending down to open a bag on the side of his bike, pulling out his leather jacket and slipping it on, careful of his inhibitors.

"LET US RUN ALL RED TRAFFIC LIGHTS." Omega stated, already seated in the side car, his arms awkwardly held at his side.

"What, no." Shadow breathed, grabbing his keys from his quills and inserting them, throwing his leg over to straddle the bike as it rumbled to life.

Rouge joined him, leaning over to pat Omega in the side car.

"Now, now Omega, we respect the traffic laws--for the most part *AHEM*, anyways how do you expect Shadow to speed with you in the sidecar?" She obviously teased, and Shadow obviously ignored.

"CHALLENGE ACCEPTED."

Shadow grumbled, and as he sped away from the gates of the parking lot, who would've noticed if he passed just one or two red lights to get a roar of laughter out of his friends.

-------

"And that's the gist of it, I suppose." Rouge waved her fork carefully, before using it to take another bite of lasagna.

The team had laid out the papers in a semi-organized order on the kitchen table, Shadow balanced his plate on his leg as he made mental notes of the info Infront of him.

"Should have guessed it was Robotnik related." He sighed, placing one of the papers down in-front of Omega to scan.

The bat adjusted her hair towel. "It does appear like old eggy is up to his usual antics again hm?"

"AS LONG AS E-123 OMEGA STANDS. HIS DAYS ARE NUMBERED." The E-series robot proclaimed, raising his arm swiftly in the air to make a strong fist.

"There's just one thing I don't understand..." Shadow gestured toward the papers in question. "A whole year of reconnaissance, why?"

"Remember the little friend below I mentioned earlier? You can thank them for that~" Rouge stabbed another piece of the pasta before delicately placing it between her teeth. Shadow almost felt sorry for it.

Apparently, Robotnik had plans to make another lab in Shamar, any previous information regarding it was accidently deleted by an unfortunate intern at headquarters. He could piece that much together at least.

The people there had a very high likely hood of being ambushed, and as capable of self-preservation as they had the likelihood of being, the reconnaissance info was supposed to be given to them. They were practically in the dark so to speak.

Which is where Team Dark comes in. To shine some light on the situation, it was a simple task, but a long one. A year long.

"Hm, I'm sure their receiving a party full of thanks." The agent gathered the file, neatly evening out the papers before placing them back in the folder. "But, what matters now is the mission. We need to prepare."

They would need to borrow a vehicle from G.U.N, something sturdy and could fit something motorcycle sized. Plenty of food, medical supplies, weapons and ammo. Rouge was an awful driver at night so Shadow was already planning driving shifts, they would either go by plane or boat from there and---

"Well, of course! But there's one, tiny problem~" Cutting off Shadows semi-mental thoughts. She set her plate down and made her famous "I could do no wrong" face. Great, Shadow thought.

"As in?"

"I kinda sorta already promised Rose we'd be there for her New Years Party." Rouge gleamed. "I wouldn't want to disappoint the little girl, would you?"

It had completely slipped his mind, Rose had her yearly party at her cottage for all her friends. The trio had just started attending recently, as in the past 3 years straight.

Of course, it's not as though it was uncommon for one or two of them to had missed an occasional party due to, oh he doesn't know... maybe, because of something IMPORTANT.

"Rouge, her party is the same day we are supposed to leave... how do you exactly plan we prepare to leave to another continent and drop by in that time?" Shadow's quills ruffled, Amy would understand why they wouldn't be able to make it. Did this bat have no care for his mental schedule?

"I know it sounds crazy, but we could make it work! We prepare in the morning, drive by to say goodbye--maybe fluster a certain red head~ and be off!" Rouge waves dismissably, he couldn't believe it.

They were gonna be late because of an Echidna.

"Rouge--"

"Nuh-huh! I'm pulling the Team Leader card on this one fellas! If I'm going to be deprived of my boyfriend for one whole year I'm at least saying goodbye!" Shadow groaned in response, her argument oddly made some sense he supposed.

"Alright, fine. We have a week anyways, I'm sure we'd be done by then..." He thinks anyways... but the last thing he'd want is a depressed Knuckle deprived Rouge on their roadtrip to Shamar. He can only take so many narrated description's of his "sexyness" to bear.

"Aww! I knew you would agree sweetie!" She smiled brightly, a yawn escaping her lips. "Now if you'd excuse me dears I REALLY need to sleep... my head is pounding." Shadow nodded, and offered to take her hair towel. As soon as her door shut he turned to Omega, who was quietly observing from the side.

"Your on my side right?"

"OMEGA CHOOSES THE SIDE OF DESTRUCTION AND CARNAGE."

....

....

"ONLY IF YOU PROMISE THIS NEW VEHICLE HAS GUNS."

"Of course Omega."

"YES."

-----

Shadow supposed, maybe, it would all work out. He slumped on the couch, relishing in not standing any longer than he had too.

He'd feel better as soon as he gets started tomorrow, he's sure. Besides, it would be nice to see everyone before they left. It's only appropriate, the well mannered thing to do. The year would fly by and they'd be just in time for another one of Amy's New Year parties, one they would be able to enjoy.

Glancing out the window from their apartment, he looked at the dancing lights of distant vehicles, and the blue hue the night gave above the towering buildings..

So why did leaving feel so bittersweet?

[papaya-twinks]

hello… I saw smth abt requests being open…. Maybe it’s old idk, I’ve never requested smth. But um, I rlly like ur work and I’m maybe if you want to write smth like dis: Brasilian reader x Oscar. Where it’s the Brasilian GP and after meeting y/n family they have a lil fun in the evening in the stables of y/n s family farm. If ur comfy with that :) the smut part can be up to u lol. Or it could just be fluff whatever I want <3 again love ur work <3

Warnings: None!

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Brasilian!fem!reader

A/N - I’m sorry I didn’t see this as a smut request :(

“And welcome to the Brazilian Grand Prix!” a voice shouted over the radio as you grinned, walking into the pit lane, you’d finally saved enough to afford tickets to such a prestigious place and you were excited. “Hi,” you smiled to once of the engineers as she waved. You were standing at one of the seats, with your friend beside you, when someone tapped you on the shoulder. “Hello,” a voice said, who you only could recognise as Oscar. 

“Hello,” you said, your Brazilian accent evident in his voice. “You a local?” he asked, hearing your voice as you smiled and nodded. “Brazil is beautiful,” Oscar said, eoinding almost…nervous. “It is quite, no?” you agreed with him. “I doing you have seen the true beauty of my country yet though,” you smiled to him as he raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? You plan on showing me?” 

You hummed, thinking for a second, “Depends when you’re off your little schedule,” you shrugged. “After practise,” he smiled, nodding to you as an engineer beckoned him over. So it was settled, he’d meet you where you’d spoken and tours take him to your home, where your parents were. Your friend raised a few eyebrows when you told her but decided she’d go too. 

“Hey, you,” you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder, seeing Oscar. “Did well with FP2,” you nodded at the results board. The unmistakable sign of a blush coated the man’s cheeks as he smiled, thanking you politely. “You ready to go?” you asked, turning to walk out the garage. He followed, half stumbling to stand beside you as your friend watched behind, bewildered and bemused. 

“Right then…” she mumbled, shaking her head. “So, where have you been?” you asked, deciding to start a conversation as you led him to your car. “Just exploring São Paulo to be honest,” he shrugged, “few shops and some sight seeing,”. You nodding starting up your car, your friend mildly disgruntled from being thrown in the back seat. 

“Wow,” Oscar muttered as you arrived at a small countryside house, situated in the middle of a grape vine field. “My parents are farmers,” you smiled, the driver beside you raising his eyebrows, supposedly impressed. “Sweet,” he followed you out the car. “Olá uva (hello grape),” your mum smiled, seeing you step out the car. She raised her eyebrow at Oscar beside you, clicking her tongue softly. 

“Who’s this?” your dad spoke in English, seeing the McLaren driver. “Mamã, Papá,” you said, “remember the race I went to? This is one of the drivers,”. Your mother frowned as you daf spoke with a small smirk, “You managed to bring one home? Well done, daughter,”. You groaned at his words, flushing as Oscar shuffled, embarrassed. 

“Ele foi passear na cidade chique, pretendo mostrar a ele lugares melhores (He went sight seeing in the posh city, I intend to show him better places),” you scrunched your nose slightly, your mother shaking her head. “Show him the field, then, I’ll make dinner,” she shrugged. Oscar thanked your parents, following you out into the fields. “Wow,” he muttered, leaning down to look at the small bundles of grapes. 

“Makes great wine,” you winked, your friend deciding to stay inside and help with dinner. You and Oscar ended up talking a lot, discussing the races, random topics and more, until your mother called you inside. She’d made your favoriete dish, Feijoada, a mixture of means and black beans. “Tell me you’ve had this,” you turned to Oscar, seeing his sheepish decline. “I haven’t,”. 

You groaned - this was going to be an experience and a half for him. 

[taylor-titmouse]

my review: i liked how comedic it was, youre good at comedy. i like sex farce

the dubcon felt a lot more like noncon in this one, kinda like the tower book (autocorrect flat out wont let me try to write the actual title. sigh.) and the threats felt a lot more threatening and the villains a lot more villainous. the bandits are definitely the most antagonist-y antagonists youve written aside from the cult in the risen king and our lovely wizard friend romick. mark and george are especially unpleasant (in an amusing way) and i wonder if you intentionally wrote them to be misogynistic as thats something i picked up on from them. they (sam and vanesse too but to a lesser extent) felt like they were written to be actual threatening sex criminals whose acts are considered sex crimes within the narrative/universe, once again similar to romick. angre definitely did not seem to be having a good time during the sex scenes and neither did vanesse when the goblins got her. now none of this is bad in my opinion, i actually quite enjoyed these aspects. but i do think its something people who are sensitive to that type of thing should be aware of

another thing about the story is how it handled gender and expression and all that. that was my favorite aspect of the book. i also enjoyed the world building. youve got a good eye for fantasy world building thats both fun and makes sense. i think you also do in-universe species-ism/prejudice very well too. id read a book by you thats a field guide to the world youve crafted

this is an interesting takeaway because what you're saying much more accurately describes the first draft, to the point that when i read this ask the first time, i was suddenly paranoid i had somehow uploaded that version. the second, final draft involved taking a lot of that real threat out and making it funnier, and trying to play closer to the space the chique books are in, where getting fucked by whoever catches you is a common, acceptable risk.

like the only sex in the whole thing that you could call non-consensual was vanesse and the goblins, but it's presented as a fair punishment given what she does to angre, and it's not presented as a horrible/violent violation, just an annoyance. it's a villain getting what was coming to her. tonally it's different from what people generally think when it comes to non-con, which is why i group it in with dub-con. if she would consider anyone she defeats on the road fair game, the same must be true of her. that's the nature of the world. she "consents" by playing the game, essentially.

similarly angre knew the risk he was taking and specifically goads vanesse into fucking him, so i don't know where you got the idea he didn't want the sex. he came twice. he was fine.

anyway. the question of whether i wrote georgie and markie to be misogynistic on purpose is really funny. no man it happened by accident in the book about fantasy intersectional misogyny. i didn't think about it at all.

i'm glad you liked it i'm just very "huh." about some of your takeaways lol

[spanishskulduggery]

Ohi there!

I made this u/n forever ago so ill probably keep it no matter the answer to this, but I've always wondered if it should be 'chic@ con pelo rosado'? Or maybe better 'de pelo rosa(do)'? It just feels... awkward to me, but I can't place my finger on it.

I know there are words for the 'hairèdness' of someone (e.g. moren@, rubi@, etc.), for lack of a better term, but since it's not a natural color (on hair or in general), I'm not sure how that would work. I've always wondered how accurate it was lmao

(Also side note, which article do you use for gender neutral lmao is it 'l@'?)

First, it could be either

chico con pelo rosa / rosado is "boy with pink hair"; and chico de pelo rosa / rosado is "the pink-haired boy"

Both are acceptable, but the de kind of makes you think of using a hyphen

Note: You may also see el cabello used for "hair" when it's specifically hair on the head

But you're right that there are certain words for hair colors:

rubio/a = blond

pelirrojo/a = red-head, "ginger"

moreno/a = dark-haired / brunette de/con cabello/pelo castaño = brown-haired

de/con pelo/cabello caoba = auburn-haired

cano/a = white-haired, gray-haired [as opposed to pelo cano or pelo blanco / gris]

de/con pelo/cabello negro = black-haired pelinegro = black-haired [less common still used sometimes]

This also applies to hair texture/length... corto/a "short", largo/a "long", liso/a "smooth/straight (hair)", rizado/a "curly/wavy", and calvo/a "bald"

-

Two options for gender neutral - the @ makes the most sense in writing when you're including everyone not specifically talking about a particular person like tod@s is "everyone (male and female)", or el/la chic@ maybe

The way a company might do it is to include both: un/una alumno/a "a student" for example, or se busca un/una empleado/a "looking for an employee"

The other way a company or someone official might do it is to include both options; damas y caballeros "ladies and gentlemen" or todos y todas "everyone"

-

Less official but still used especially by the younger generation and for times when you are really talking about one person in particular: the general idea for gender neutral is the use of -e

So it would be le chique "the young person" gender neutral

For non-binary groups, it would probably be les chiques or saying todes "everyone". I would tend to assume it works like feminine does that nosotras "we" is for only women in the group, nosotros is either a mixed group or all men... so nosotres would be like everyone NB, but in a mixed group I would expect to see nosotros

And so it would be rubie, pelirroje, morene, cane etc.

But be really careful because depending on where you're saying/using it, it might not be regarded as correct or you might be mistaken for using French or Italian

The "default" way to talk about someone non-binary or gender neutral is either to assume masculine until proven otherwise, or to use gender neutral language that's a bit impersonal... such as la persona que tiene (el) pelo/cabello negro "the person that has black hair", or alguien con (el) pelo/cabello azul "someone with blue hair"

-

Side Note just in case you were confused rosa can be used as "pink", rosado/a is more explicitly the adjective form "pink" or "rosy". They are both correct as adjectives, just that rosa doesn't change for gender so it could confuse some people

I know in my textbooks for colors they wrote anaranjado/a "orange" [lit. "orange-y"] instead of naranja "orange", and they wrote rosado/a "pink" instead of rosa

When using an actual noun as an adjective, they don't change gender; so la rosa is "rose", el rosa is "the color pink", rosa is just pink

You can also see this with caoba "mahogany" or "auburn", plata "silver" [as opposed to plateado/a], oro "gold" [instead of dorado/a "golden"], bronce "bronze" [instead of bronceado/a "bronzed / tanned"]

And some other words like márfil "ivory", ébano "ebony", castaño "brown/chestnut", café or color café "coffee colored" aka "brown", or something like lila "light purple" and turquesa "turquoise"

All colors are masculine when talking about them; all colors taken from nouns will not change as adjectives - la camisa turquesa "turquoise shirt" vs. el abrigo turquesa "turquoise coat" for example... And la turquesa means "turquoise" often the gemstone, and el turquesa means "the color turquoise"

[caffeine-high]

KIAN KUSHIM?

STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING KIAN GOD DAMN FOOL BODY STEALING DUST EATING OLD ASS BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT CARRIER OF THE WHORE RELIC BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING KIAN

THINKS HE KNOWS ALL YET FUCKING LOST TO PEOPLE WHO COULDN'T EVEN OPEN A FUCKING DOOR

KIAN “YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE AWESOMENESS OF MY PLAN” KIAN FUCKING 4000 YEARS OLD YET NEVER LEARNED EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE GIVING 13 YEAR OLD YELLING AT VIDEO GAMES CHIQUE

SPENT 4000 YEARS BEFORE BEING ABLE TO DO RITUALS, LOOSES THEM IMMEDIATELY TO A GIRL WHO ONLY TRANSCENDED FOR THE FIRST TIME A DAY PRIOR

STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT KAIN I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP RITUALS WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT JUST SET THEM LOOSE MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME

if i could go to tenebris and explore the unexplored, but the other side said kian was waiting inside i would piss on the other side’s feet for the sole purpose of getting sent back to reality, i would make a thiago and cesar special and kick that door so hard it gives me damage to close it

if i had to deal with taking kian seriously for one moment of my fucking life not only will i close the tab i will delete every bookmark and generated subtitle out of fucking spite have to watch all of desconjuração again and spend half my life in the manor for the experience of being able to then skip over the parts where kian is mentioned 

yes he has a fucked up backstory to explain how he is, but it does not explain just how much of a fucking child he is wheeeh wheeh you were mean to me so now i have to kill you and keep beating your dead body while shouting about how superiour i am SHUT THE FUCK UP 

if the mask they put him is does not include a fucking gag i will go all eliasbouchard on him

paypal.com/FuckingHateKianKushim every cent goes towards getting merch shipped to places it currently is not

the story should not even be about him, taking 4000 years just to get marked and get noticed by senpai then to looses all of that within a fucking year

mr i am the first occultist mr i know all, mr planned for this his whole 4000 year life and managed to so catastrophically fuck up that within a year it is undone

man’s never heard of the sunk cost fallacy, oh i've already killed thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people truly i cannot stop now FUCKER you can quit at any time ya know best time was 4000 years ago next best time was after the first life you took next next best time after the  second, but truly, the (next*x^n)th best time is right fucking now

handpicked an elite team of marked and they could not even stop hating each other enough to work together and despite that they still worked with YOUR enemies to lock you up

disconjuration? well discon-tinue your fucking story mate 

i fucking hope we know the exact date of your imprisonments because im going to set a reminder in my phone and every year i will see it and i will laugh at this fucker who at the height of his power could not even keep himself composed enough to not sound like a fucking preteen who needs a nap

[wearepansies]

Just comment and I will put out a part two-

PJO MUSIC ARTIST AU:

Percy;

-His artist name is Black Jackson. (BLACKJACKson?? Get it??? He named himself after blackjack kind of???? Ok I’ll see myself out-)

-Because he was born in Manhattan, out of poverty, he never had much, so he’s pretty much the most down to earth celebrity ever(think Adam Sandler kind of? But more fashionable)

-Advocates a lot for people with learning disabilities, and domestic violence victims.

-He mostly writes inside the genres rock and alternative.

-His first big break was with his original album, “feelyng bleu”

-While we’re on that, all of his songs and albums are spelled wrong. At first it was a mistake, but Percy slowly just made it his own thing. Made him feel a lot better about his dyslexia.

- Is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.

-He’s also a socially awkward, insecure mess though.

- He starts every concert of his off by thanking his Mother, and asking whether “ his audience is ready to fuck themselves up tonight??”

-Absolute bicon

-Has clips of his funny exchanges with interviewers all over YouTube

Annabeth;

-Just uses her actual name.

-She doesn’t see the point in trying to make a career under a fake name. Nah. She wants people SCREAMING her name from the audience.

-Contrary to that wish though, she’s not actually famous.

-It’s more like…a hobby she does for fun, but also dreams about turning into a career.

-In reality though, she’s an architecture student who really just needs money to fix the damn sink.

- She actually knew Percy WAY before he became famous, since they were eleven actually.

-Annabeths music is more like…alternative folk.

-She uses all sorts of architecture metaphors and terms in her music.

-She doesn’t sing about buildings though. She talks about all sorts of social class problems she thinks are important. The figurative, poetic architecture language she uses is just her musical signature(and a fun way to be nerdy).

-She has a decent amount of followers.

- Is rather cold when you meet her, but is secretly just a softie.

- Is the artist who makes songs based off books and posts them on TikTok (sorry not sorry)

-She also has a podcast that’s unfortunately more popular than her nonexistent music career lol.

- She wears lots of academic looking clothes, but also has lots of flow-y looking tops, and lots of chique Greek outfits because she loves embracing her culture.

- Is friends with everyone from the famous band “Ride or Die” (Beckendorf, Silena, Clarisse, Connor, Travis, and Katie)

Grover;

-Goes by the music name “Child of the W1ld”

-He’s not really a famous music artist honestly? More like a TikTok celebrity.

-He’s famous for his pan flute and ocarina covers of different songs.

-His most popular, aka the one that made him famous, was Celine Dion’s “my heart will go on”

-Posts all sorts of TikTok’s of him playing his instruments in random places lmao

-Is the most cottage core hipster to ever cottage core.

- He and Percy are besties! They support each other whenever they can, advertise, do videos, and just chill out and hang.

- They’re such opposites aesthetically though. People were actually so shocked when they first saw them together lmao.

- Whenever Percy uploads a new album or song, he’ll make a cover of it.

-Not only because he loves his best friend, but also because it’s challenging.

-Wears an alarming amount of skirts, and pants that go halfway to his calves.

[andromerot]

my pedro almodóvar marathon. thoughts, feelings, tier list

or, i spent like 50 hours on this so i better get to post about it

well, i'd be lying if i said i set out to do this with any clear goals in mind. i sort of just wanted to watch movies. this year i set out to watch through a couple of directors entire works, but ran into complications or got bored. so anyway when i finished my term i decided id try a third time with my best friend pedro. i had watched five of his films already but was mostly unaware of other things he had made. on the 22nd of november i started with matador, then went on and in exactly a month i had watched all of his feature films yayyy

so this is how i ranked them on letterboxd and this is a tier list. this doesnt really sum up my thoughts though so im leaving a little review for each below the cut, in the order i watched them in this month hope someone cares :) thank you

matador (1986): ohhhhhh my god. absolutely unexpected how insane this movie made me. many people say its not very good, i dont think that's true. transgressive, erotic, camp, necrosexual, implicit faggot tension, beautiful costuming, insanely talented cast of so many characters sick in the head. watching this one first really hyped me up to keep at it and to close out the month i rewatched it the other day and though it was less surprising than the first time i watched it its maybe my favorite now :) it has structural flaws i suppose. but i love it

¿que he hecho yo para merecer esto? (1984): pretty funny! not bad at all, i remember enjoying it as i watched it, it just wasnt very memorable. i enjoy every performance by carmen maura, chus was stellar as always and forqué was really sweet in this one too, i liked it. i literally forgot half of the plot though. did anyone remember the telepathic child or the faked hitler diaries? i didnt until i looked it up.

la ley del deseo (1987) (rewatched): showed this one to my friend, god its iconic. some of my favorite chiques almodovar. so fun to watch and so silly even though its not quite a comedy. the fact that antonio is just called antonio in this one makes me unwarrantedly happy. MAURA THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE!! very hot all around. i think i liked it better this time than the other two i had watched it.

pepi, luci, bom y otras chicas del montón (1980): everyone talks about how sexually transgressive 80s almodovar is and i was like yeah whatever until i watched this one. straight up trilogy of trash shit. so beautiful. i wish every movie was like this. no one likes it but i adored it. erecciones generales will stay in my mind forever and i loved the musical numbers. and the piss, of course.

entre tinieblas (1983): also somewhat forgettable, though i watched it while pretty worried about something else so maybe i didnt give it the attention it deserved. its not a bad time but i wouldn't rewatch it. based on the premise you think it'd be better.

la flor de mi secreto (1995) (rewatched): OH GOD. until last month my favorite almodóvar, its been outdone but it still destroys me. its terribly underrated. i dont even know what i can say about it... marisa paredes is stunning at doing desperation. the boots, the scene at the protest, the initial meeting with ángel, the poem in the car, that moment in the hall. it's beautiful and breathtaking. lesbian film history, i promise.

todo sobre mi madre (1999): like, its good, but i dont get what people see in it that makes it so acclaimed. again paredes is great in this, but penélope is somewhat tame compared to what she does later, and this is the point in the list where i have to admit cecilia roth is not very good to me and all my compatriots start throwing rocks at me. listen i just wish she'd stop doing that stupid accent its so fucking bad cecilia sincerate seguro sos de villa crespo. anyway its fine if a bit weird about trans women, but hes always a hit or miss w that

átame (1989): took a big break between the last one and this one for some reason. anyway, pretty funny, except it really drags in the middle. shouldnt have been that long, but victoria abril always slays and the last scene is wonderful.

tacones lejanos (1991): WOAHHHHH! really cool i liked it. i love a mother daughter thing especially this mother and this daughter. really fun doppelganger story and i love how it was told, i found it both melodramatic and subtle? miguel bosé makes a really pretty girl, this will inform my every subsequent rewatch of suspiria. big fan of his gender. dance number fucked obvs

kika (1993) (rewatch): ok, i know why people don't like this one, but its so silly... cmon. it sillay. once again incredible abril performance, the costuming my god.... her character makes the whole movie i wish i was her. lesbian rossy de palma was wonderful and every forqué performance is a delight. pedro getting hitchcockian with it to slightly trick the audience is a staple of his 90s filmography, fucks.

carne trémula (1997): the title made me think it would be better! there was barely any carne. i didn't really see the point of most of it tbh, though based on how the movie starts and ends there might be some spanish historical context that im missing that makes it more interesting. strangely reminiscing of the buenos aires affair to me, but puig is better. yeah it was just pretty boring.

laberinto de pasiones (1982): YAYYYYYY i had some trouble torrenting so i watched it really out of order this but its SO FUN. obviously in the same vein as pepi luci bom but i liked it slightly more just for how unnecessarily elaborate it was. the one major role i dont mind roth being in and im a big fan of antonios gay terrorist with an ultradeveloped sense of smell character and arias is really into his very silly character too – he works well in secreto as well, i wish hed been on more almodovares, i should finally watch camila. liné was hilarious too. the problematic incest storyline was really funny to me sorryyyyy and i got a lot of gender out of the musical performances. hey can you believe that beautiful fag covered in blood is a franquista now. i can

hable con ella (2002): ehhhhhhh. some people really hate this one for the couple scenes i found most interesting, others love it for reasons i cant parse. its got parts that caught my attention a lot, but mostly it was eerie in an unenjoyable and uninteresting way and the backstories dragged on too long, especially grandinetti's. like i just don't care sorry. THE scene is quite disturbing though. i appreciated he decided to show rape in a more subtle light for once, it made it a lot more cruel and a lot more interesting.

la mala educación (2004) (rewatch): sighhhh. i really wish i liked this one. its got so many elements i am into – the colours are obviously spectacular, the unreliable multiple narrations and the disassembled timelines are always enjoyable to me, the attempt at social commentary is appreciated, some scenes are stunning (fictional ignacios head split in half is unforgettable) but quite honestly the characterization is so bad it bores me. i liked it more the first time i watched it just because of how confused i was, once i wasnt it lost its magic. maybe the worst in what is considered the "somewhat autobiographical movies about directors" trilogy (i think there's four of them but we'll discuss that later) probably because the character of enrique is so bland. i know its more but it feels that you only spend like five minutes with him. ángel/juan's motivations for anything are so puzzling, ignacio is just a caricature at this point and probably the character with the most depth is berenguer, which is ironic, i guess

volver (2006): WAHHH. its hard to talk about it honestly. it was so unexpectedly beautiful. the acting is so on point – penélope cruz and that beautiful carmen maura comeback are self evident, but blanca portillo is also stellar. it was fascinating from minute one and i couldnt keep my eyes off it. its written with such care and love. i suppose the plot itself is nothing out of this world, but the way it is handled is explosive. i really adored it.

los abrazos rotos (2009): the fourth bastard on the self insert series! cmon, its way more about himself than la mala educación. anyway, its good at some points, not very in others. the strong point is obviously the relationship between mateo, judit and diego, their refusal to be tied as a family and their desire to be tied by love is reaaaally interesting. the scene at the sea... but penélope and her millionaire and her millionaires son do nothing interesting at any point, im afraid to say. sad! surprisingly not very memorable, even though i didnt dislike it as i watched it. like i remember i liked some things but if a couple weeks later i dont remember what they were its probably the movies fault

la piel que habito (2011): AUGHHH OK. fuck. THIS ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE GOOD. it wasnt it was really mid. when it started i was like oh is pedro trying out his hand at cronenberg and i was really excited because im SURE he can do cronenberg better than cronenberg but he didnt. it was worse. how are you giving your women less agency than that guy??? honestly probably the first ever film of his where this is a noticeable problem, though penélope in the last one should give us a hint. ughh it should have been good. im mad about that. no desire to question gender or power and the unchronological storytelling does nothing for me. BAD! if anything i recognized its sexual power for if banderas character was a woman i would be throwing up and convulsing on the floor. i hope vicente and his lesbian coworker had a beautiful romance i guess. i cant believe some people call this one one of the most controversial of his work....

los amantes pasajeros (2013): hm well everyone was like THIS is the bad one and i was like i bet you guys are just being mean but no yeah this is the bad one. its not funny and it drags on so long...i can usually defend the rape scenes in his movies, even in kika or hable con ella, but this one just sucks so bad. i was prepared to defend this movie but i cant. as soon as the movie started i was trying to guess where all the threads would connect, how all the characters would be linked and they mostly... weren't? also the reference to the gazpacho scene in mujeres made me groan out loud.

julieta (2016): well i dont really know what this was supposed to be....it feels on the surface it could have been really good but something about it felt so emotionless. it was an odd experience, watching it, because i expected to be moved by so many scenes and i never was. i dont know what the point of it was.

dolor y gloria (2019): ok yeah this one was sweet! didn't blow my mind or anything but it was very cleverly made...a really more beautiful way to do the childhood-as-movie thing than in mala educación, i really enjoyed it. nostalgia bores me sometimes but i feel hes not being annoying about it. long live old man yaoi (and finally an argentinian actor i DONT hate...) and that beautiful beautiful cave and that mind gripping apartment bringing in the characteristic insane set design but in a new way...i had a good time

madres paralelas (2021): oh this could have been so good! it wasnt but honestly i dont remember exactly why i disliked it. i suppose i didnt connect to the characters and that it is a story that requires that to engage you – their motivations were really out of place and unlike other movies that bothered me. really interesting premise, didnt work out. im sad about it. could have been cool.

yeah so that's it i only realized while writing this that i forgot to rewatch mujeres but obvs that ones very good, proper classic, quote it every time i eat gazpacho and such. also extraña forma de vida is a snore i refuse to watch it again. i hope this works as a rec list for someone. and i am ready to be stoned by my wrong opinions by the rest of you

[plumbobtv]

Plumbob Inside - Interview with Heather Thompson

Interviewer: Hello Heather, good to see you tonight. You look fabulous as always, very chique... Heather: Thank you, that's always what I do try to go for haha.

Interviewer: The cast poster for season nine of Simwives just dropped, so the season premier should be close... Do you know when more is dropping? Heather: I actually do know when more is dropping and... Let me tell you, it won't be much longer. A lot is coming and you better get ready for a dramatic winter.

Interviewer: That sounds amazing, how do you personally feel about the upcoming season? Heather: It's... A tough one for me, we're still filming and... Let's just say, the ladies are coming for me this year. Dealing with that and also my children going to university... It has been a lot for me.

Interviewer: Oh, so they are coming for you... How much longer will you ladies be filming for this season? Heather: We have about four weeks left of filming, we'll actually be leaving for our cast trip soon. I am taking the ladies to Chestnut Ridge, which I hope will be a lot of fun... Hopefully we can leave the drama behind haha.

Interviewer: That sounds like a fun place to go, taking it to the country side! Tell me, how has filming been without Saffron? It must have been a huge loss for the show... Heather: Yes, losing Saffron was a big hit... And of course everyone was nervous to see how the season would pick up. But I think we have a very dynamic great cast, we serve a good season. The shoes Saffron left behind have been filled very nicely.

Interviewer: Well, I can't wait to see what is gonna happen. We interviewed the new ladies a few weeks ago, how do you feel about them? Heather: Uhm, Hailey is a friend of mine. I brought her on the show, because I thought she would be a great fit. Now we do hit some bumps on the road this season, but I do believe we will get back to a better place, we just need time. Penny on the other hand... She is a hand full and very feisty... She has her opinions ready and we clash a few times on the season, but you will see that.

Interviewer: Interesting... I can't wait for the new season to start and I hope you will have a good time filming the last few weeks. Heather: Haha, thank you so much... I hope I'll be having fun as well, but you never know with these ladies. They seem to have a lot of issues with everything I do this season...

[belgianreader2]

28, 27, 11, 15, 5 for the not-from-the-US asks pls!

5. favourite song in your native language?

Idk how to choose 😭

Have my top 5 instead:

Envole-Moi, Jean-Jacques Goldman

Belle, Le Bossu de Notre-Dame musical (Patrick Fiori, Garou, Daniel Lavoie)

Le Serpent, Urban Trad

Alors On Danse, Stromae

11. favourite native writer/poet?

Ooof. Why do I keep having to pick favourites

Nostalgia says Thomas Lavachery because he's belgian and drew a dragon on my favourite series when I was 9 or 10.

Otherwise there's Edmond Rostand for Cyrano.

Other authors include Alexandre Dumas and Robert Merle. And for poets I always liked Baudelaire and Rimbaud's work.

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

We have so many lmao, sometimes I think it's solely to confuse the French.

Top 5 include:

"Ca spite"

"Il drache"

"Le sucer de son pouce"

"Mordre sur sa chique"

"Guindailler"

27. favourite national celebrity?

Answered here.

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

LMAOO our highest point is 693 meters high. Your country's lowest point's probably higher than that 😂😂😂 so that's a no on the mountains. Favourite river's the Maas tho.