#every video taken of them looks like the flash is on. every single one

[lemoncrusades]

The nations definitely have an uncanny valley effect to humans btw

They all have something that’s just off about them. Their eyes are too intense, their movements too fast, their motions too animated, etc etc

[linoveins]

kitty keychains and pudding paybacks

best friend!minho can't help but recall memories of him and fem!reader in the middle of their grocery trip

this is part 2 of silky shorts and stained shirts

genre: fluff, smut, angst (a little), college au

warnings: MDNI! condescending dom!minho, sub!reader, reader is physically sensitive, reader is inexperienced, minho and reader are not straight, pet names, grinding, nipple play, marking, praise, dirty talk, p in v, minho has a huge dick, a bit of pain from sex (just a little), oral f receiving, fingering, minho is really possessive, minho is an idiot when it comes to feelings

w.c.: 11.9k

a/n: i swore part 2 would be sweet, smutty, and simple but my fingers slipped and now we're at 11.9k words T_T hope it isn't too much! i rlly enjoyed writing this i hope u enjoy reading it as well.

you flinch at the sudden flash of light as you stuff sushi in your mouth.

the perpetrator is across you, smiling stupidly while holding his stupid phone in his stupid hand. you notice the people who were just peacefully eating in the dim restaurant look at you both with a disapproving stare which makes you mumble out a quiet apology.

minho doesn’t seem to care, that idiot. you kick him below the table and he just giggles.

“delete that!” you whisper at him aggressively. you both know it’s useless. his phone is a growing waste of every single embarrassing picture and video clip ever taken of his friends. and as someone who’s with him like 90% of the time, you’re unfortunately 90% of his pesky camera roll.

“shh, go eat your food”, he hums, still grinning. 

“i was eating until i was so rudely interrupted.”

“in my defense, i didn't know the flash was on”, he retorts confidently as if that makes it better. “and most importantly, i’m storing memories. be grateful you have such a wonderful friend to do that for you. you suck at taking photos”, he argues.

he’s right. you don’t even have a quarter of the amount of photos he has. you keep reminding yourself to take more pictures for the memories since your memory itself sucks, but you always either forget or you’re too slow to capture the moment. minho says the growing amount of keychains on your phone case were the reason you’re so slow. as if he didn’t add onto your collection with a personalized keytag of jureumi. 

you watch minho watch you thinking about his words. annoying. you just poke your tongue out at him and he shakes his head at the childish display.

after a while, minho finishes his plate and you notice him eyeing yours. you already know what’s running through that pretty head of his. 

by your luck or maybe his excitement from planning his attack, he accidentally drops his chopsticks. 

as he’s reaching out for it under the table with a silent fuck, you insert a pretty good chunk of wasabi into the sushi and flip the piece so he won't notice. 

you eat the second to the last sushi. you know he’s looking at the very last one on your plate like the greedy man he is. you drink your water to hide your grin. 

like clockwork, he grabs the last sushi and shoots it in his mouth in record time, a smug look on his face just a split second before realizing his mistake.

gotcha, idiot. 

you swallow your water so fast so you won’t choke from laughter at seeing how red his neck and ears are getting.

he rushes for the water and starts cursing at you. it’s your turn to take an embarrassing photo of him. you’re quick this time. 

“you are evil!” he shouts, eyes a bit teary and lips red.

“if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.”

minho continues downing liquid and you can’t help but stare. if it really isn’t the consequences of one’s actions.

his neck is all red and his lips are burning with the perfect shade of red adorning them. he’s swallowing the water and you follow the liquid that disappears past his lips and down his throat. he has such a pretty throat. you don’t understand how a person's adam’s apple can look so defined and delicious? you snap out of your staring and tell him you should head out soon for the groceries.

he nods, still glaring at you. you can tell from his faint smile he’s trying to contain that he’s not really mad.

the train to the supermarket is a bit packed. it’s the rush hour so you and minho are sitting together, both your thighs squished next to each other.

you notice minho’s ears are still red. no way he’s still affected by the wasabi? his eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched. you laugh.

“your ears are still red? that wasabi really did one on you!” 

minho rolls his eyes. it’s not the wasabi. not that you should know when you’re laughing like that anyway.

you sneakily bring out your phone but he hears the little clanging of the metals and he catches you sending the photo of him in the restaurant to han jisung of all people.

he snatches your phone from your hold to try and stop you, but it was already sent so you don’t make the extra effort to get it back. you grin in success and close your eyes while waiting for your stop.

you remember the first time you saw him. it was on this train on the way to university. you decided to leave early after having one of those moments of wanting to turn your life around at 3 am. 

you got aboard the 6 am train and there he was, some cute guy with glasses on and a hoodie. he had earphones on and his eyes were closed as he silently tapped his foot to whatever music he was playing. you couldn’t look away. not that you wanted to.

he had an intimidating aura to him which contrasted his cute face. you were a sucker for that so you decided to wake up early the next day too. maybe you’ll see him again.

and yet again, there he was. 

you woke up earlier again the next day. and the next. and then the next, until you formed a new habit of waking up early for the 6 am train even though your classes start at noon. 

you told yourself it was a good habit to form. you felt gratitude for the pretty boy on the train. you never approached him though. you didn't feel the need to. he never looked your way and you didn’t mind. it helped you develop a routine of waking up early and you were glad just for that. 

the speakers announce your stop and minho taps you gently upon noticing your eyes were closed. both of you got out of the train and walked towards the supermarket.

grocery shopping with you was one of minho’s favorite occurrences.

he didn’t think much of it, he just knew it was so much more fun when he’s with you. he always chalked it up to you simply being fun to hang out with and that you’re always able to match his sillier side. almost a little too well. maybe..

“ya! don’t buy too much of that!” he notices you stuffing your cart with 5 packages of the carbonara buldak which interrupted his wandering thoughts.

“it’s my money? it’s the perfect meal for exams!”

minho recalls your late night snacking during last term’s finals and he sighs at the memory. 

you were literally consuming that stuff three times a day. sometimes more. he had to hide the rest of it and force you to let him cook you a proper meal.

of course he almost folded when you looked at him with teary eyes, begging him to free the packs, and that you were tired and stressed and you’re really craving it. you were so tempting begging him like that. nevermind that it’s for some stupid noodles. he eventually made sure you ate his cooking anyway.

he takes 3 of the packages from your cart and puts them back on the shelf. he sighs through his nose while you glare at him.

“we’re supposed to die a natural death, y/n. i don’t want you getting a heart disease any time before 90!” he scolds you.

90 is a bit too much, you think. you just poke your tongue out at him again but you move on with only the 2 packs. 

you are so annoying. he can't help but smile while watching you struggle pushing the cart. 

you look back at minho from his sudden quietness. minho just nods at you to continue walking. his heart warms. you always glance back to see if he’s still behind you. always. whether you’re on a narrow sidewalk or whether you’re ordering in line in front of him, or when you’re both in bed and you can’t sleep due to stress, or that one time you were cheating off of him during an exam. he smiles at the thought. for all kinds of reasons, you always glance back, and for all kinds of reasons he vows to himself to keep being there. 

both of you walk to the candy section. none of you really like candy that much but hyunjin kept begging minho to get a brand of gummies that can only be found at that supermarket. minho saw you looking at the cherry lollipops. you’ve had that before. he knows because it’s what you had in your mouth during a small get-together for his birthday where he introduced you for the first time to his friends.

some of the boys have already met you. you got comfortable real quick with the rest of them and he remembers being so happy that they’re getting along greatly with you. 

seungmin teased him about you that night and he just threatened to put him in the oven before muttering something about how she's just a friend. seungmin just leaves him alone with a sarcastic “sure”. 

he recalls changbin being late that night because of a project. everyone was already on their 4th or 5th game of the night. hyunjin bought a bunch of candy and the lollipop was one of the prizes. minho remembers scolding him for being so childish but he didn’t really stop him since he knows how childish all his friends are anyway. 

you were definitely childish too with two cherry lollipops poking through each of your cheeks. why the hell do you have two? you don’t even like cherries.

apart from definitely childish, you were also definitely drunk from the drinking games you were playing with the rest of the guys. you were getting too close to felix for his own liking and he was unknowingly glaring holes at the younger boy’s freckles, hoping they’ll burst or something. 

he knows you’re a clingy drunk and he wanted to intervene, but he realized seungmin was looking at him looking at you and he’d rather not ignite whatever dumb things the mutt is thinking. he remembers cursing felix inwardly, repeating get your own friend, get your own friend in his head.

when changbin arrived, he introduced you once more. you sat up immediately to bow at the blonde man politely.

and with you being drunk as hell, you blinked at his friend a few times before your jaw dropped, both the cherry lollipops that were just in your mouth falling on top of minho’s head. hyunjin doubled back in laughter and jeongin had to hold the back of the hyunjin’s head to keep it from smashing against the furniture. minho picked up the cherry lollipops in disgust and saw you look at changbin all dazed and pathetic with a “you’re really handsome” slipping past your cherry-stained tongue. changbin laughed shyly and the guys just lost their shit even more at the whole thing.

minho knew you were way out of it at that point and decided to get you to bed while the rest of them continued with the night. 

he dragged you to the bathroom, brushing your teeth for you since you were too drunk to do it yourself.

he got you to his bed, lifting you up and rolling you in his duvet like a cat being put on sock timeout.

“don’t argue. you’re gonna have a terrible headache in the morning. sleep. now.” he said a bit grumpily while making sure you’re still comfortable even after restraining you with his sheets. you whined at him, still not wanting the fun to end.

“but i was winning! you- ch- chan was about to take another shot!” you were putting up a fight although he could see how weak and tired you already were. minho just clicked his tongue at you. 

“and you’ve had too much. you’re sleeping now. i’m not hearing it.”

minho closed his bedroom door shut after turning the lights out and he was right about putting you to bed since you passed out almost immediately.

after a few hours of messing around, minho got tired and left some of the guys in his living room who still had way too much energy. 

jeongin was already asleep on the couch, chan was in the bathroom puking his head out on the toilet (the photos haunted him the next day), and the rest of his friends were so loud screaming “draw 2!” “draw 4!” “draw 8!” that he got a complaint the next morning. 

changbin followed him that night to ask about you.

“so that’s y/n”, changbin said in an amused tone while handing the birthday boy his gift.

“mhm”, minho took the gift and smiled at him. “glad you could come. thanks for this.”

“is… she dating anyone?” the younger one asked and minho’s heart sank so low on his stomach that he thought he was gonna have to pull chan from the toilet so he could have a go next.

changbin looked at him expectantly and minho just blinked before deciding to pull something from his ass.

“she’s not. but she doesn’t really want to date anyone right now. says they’re a distraction. so you probably shouldn’t”

he wasn’t completely lying. you told him you didn’t wanna date around, that you weren’t actively seeking for it. but if anyone nice came, preferably someone you can trust and not a total stranger, then why not? 

minho gulped and changbin looked at him weirdly but ultimately just nodded his head in understanding.

“ah… i see. it’s too bad. but i respect that. i’m gonna hang with those idiots for a while. you heading to bed now?” minho nodded. he walked to his room with a heavy feeling on his chest that he blamed on the food.

he forgot all about it when he saw you. he chuckled at your position: head falling off the edge of the bed, arms in a marty mcfly sleeping position, legs somehow on top of his headboard? he took his phone out to immortalize the sight. how the hell did you even get out of the roll?

he sighed and gently laid your head back on the bed. he maneuvered your body until he had enough space to sleep next to you. he knew there was a high chance that you would be kicking some part of him later on but he never minded. 

minho plopped his heavy leg over you and took you in an embrace to keep you still.

he started feeling a bit guilty for making shit up to changbin. but he figured you won’t mind. not that he would ever tell you. 

he never thought about any of his friends seeing you in a romantic light. nor did he think about it himself. all he knew was he’s really possessive over his friends and that should extend to you. 

but he also knew changbin was a good guy and you’d definitely click well with him. that didn’t mean it would sit right in his stomach if you did click too well. 

get your own friend, he kept thinking. you’re his friend. he doesn’t want you spending less time with him. it would be unfair since he found you first. he should be enough. he huffed one last time before hugging you even tighter that night than he ever had.

“yo! you said you’d buy me two extra cups of pudding. let’s check the aisle.” minho snaps back to reality and follows you. 

the pudding.

normally, he wouldn’t even consider replacing it with one yet he offered you two.

his guilt from… earlier events made him think you deserve just as much and then some. he knows you know that it's unlike him to even pay you back for his greedy schemes so you're taking advantage of the newfound generosity that you didn't know was actually guilt.

somehow they’re all out of the regular pudding. what’s there is rows and rows of the nasty strawberry pudding both of you tried once. he remembers how your face scrunched from disgust.

the cute little designs on the pudding cup made minho wanna try it with you. you ate at the same time and both of you immediately spat it out.

“this is absolute shit from a butt! the goddamn devil’s butt, blergh!” you drank minho’s sparkling water to wash out the definitely-not-strawberry strawberry flavor. 

“yeah, you’d know” he laughs hard and calls you weird.

“it’s an expression, you piece of shit. a piece of shit from the devil’s butt too, mind you. and you’re weirder than me, don’t give me that.”

“i’ll stuff this pudding in your mouth,” he threatens and you fake gag at him. none of you tried any strawberry-flavored pudding again.

“looks like you really just don’t deserve pudding today” he chuckles at the sight in front of him. 

“maybe if you left my pudding alone”, you mutter and he just basks in successfully annoying you.

you both continue on your separate shopping carts while still walking around together. minho is about to go crazy. why the hell does he keep being reminded of you in this stupid store? for every little thing too. like, seriously?

the meat section reminded him of you absolutely fucking up the steak you tried cooking for him when he won with his team on a dancing competition. you still ate it all, trying your best to chew the overcooked meat, not wanting to waste it. 

the fruits and vegetables section reminded him of the time both of you were fixated on mango smoothies for months.

the onions reminded him of that one time he taught you how to cook kimchi sundubu-jjigae, and when you offered chopping the onions, you were silently sniffling to hide your crying. he laughed like a madman when he noticed. that picture was marked favorite in his phone.

the damn spring roll wrappers reminded him of your thin shorts just this afternoon. spring roll wrappers, for fuck’s sake.

the frozen foods aisle reminded him of the time he scolded you for not bringing out the tonkatsu he told you to bring out so you both could have dinner. you ended up sleeping all day in his bathtub and they were still frozen by the time he got home. you felt so bad that you paid for both of your food that night, which then made him feel bad so he went with you to the convenience store to try out the interesting strawberry pudding with the cute packaging. 

the dairy section took him back to that one afternoon where you were both here doing your groceries, and an old couple asked him to reach for the milk brand at the bottom shelf, saying something about bad joints. he remembers the goosebumps that ran through his body when the old lady whispered to him that both of you will have beautiful kids like them someday. she proceeded to show him said kids on her wallet, pictures faded from how long ago those were probably taken. he just smiled politely at her. he was certain if you two had kids, yours would be cuter than theirs. not that he kept thinking about it from time to time afterwards.

he exhales in relief when you two get out of the supermarket, light bags of food in hand. you look at him and he looks at you and there’s a pause before he starts talking.

“let’s pass by the convenience store. maybe they have your pudding there.” 

you know the convenience store is a bit farther from the station since it’s the other way. you’re not even craving pudding anymore.

“let’s go”, you say as you both walk towards the other direction, groceries in hand. 

you always linger when you’re with him. a few hours more to see him laugh with and at his friends on his birthday even though you already feel your eyes getting heavy. a few seats more distanced from the train door to see him a bit longer, not wanting to leave before him. a few blocks more in the opposite direction just to be in his presence a little more. the weight of the grocery bags are nothing. not when minho’s next to you.

once you arrive, both of you plop the bags on the tiny table while he checks on the pudding aisle. you notice how peaceful it is like this with your tiny routines you formed with him over a few years. your heart beats faster, realizing the domesticity of it all. 

you pinch your thigh to stop daydreaming about your friend. you tell yourself to just pay attention to your surroundings. 

the cashier is giggling at someone on the phone, there’s a cat meowing for something outside, the convenience store is rather empty, and you can hear minho clicking his tongue from across the store.

“nothing?” you ask and he nods.

“you know, there should be compounded interest in these things. i say one more extra pudding with every day that passes where you still haven't paid me back”, you offer a very bad deal for him. you continue pushing your luck. “besides, that was the last pudding. i was looking forward to eating it after a hard day at uni…”

minho raises his eyebrow at you.

“you’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” he chuckles.

“and you’re a thief! i’m just saying…” you add, still trying to convince him.

minho just shakes his head and gets some sparkling water for himself. you follow him to the counter and the cashier brings his phone down to scan his item.

“is that all?” he chews his gum with a smile while taking minho's money. minho nods. 

you’re looking at the other products near the counter. you notice the magnetic cat keyrings on the side and eye them closely. it’s a little too expensive. maybe you can convince minho to get this instead of the pudding.

“you need condoms too?” the cashier blurts out too casually and you can't help but get flustered at the implication.

“w-we don’t. we’re not- he-”

“i’ll take a pack. thank you”, minho says also too casually and you avoid looking at him while you head back to the table with both your groceries. 

it’s none of your business, really. you knew minho liked to fuck. well, most people your age do, it’s no big deal. there are multiple times when you wanna come over to his place but he’ll text you a little “busy” so you knew not to come. 

there was actually a time when you just strutted in his place without informing him, much like he is with you. it ended when you realized that of course he had a whole life that didn’t include you.

you were in his new apartment, relaxing in his bathroom since he could now afford an apartment with a bathtub. you were taking a warm bath, almost dozing off when you heard the door open and slam shut which was immediately followed by wet kisses and people bumping into furniture. 

you heard them giggling as they went inside minho’s room. you swore you felt your heart melting into the warm water and down the drain that you started to open after figuring out what was going on. and yet you can feel the familiar warmth in your belly because of the same, familiar person.

stupid lee minho with his stupidly soft voice. 

you moved as quietly as possible to get out of the tub but you’re sure they wouldn’t hear you anyway from all the moaning that’s going on. minho sounded a bit mean to the guy but that embarrassingly turned you on too. you felt like a creep squeezing your thighs in his bathroom after a few minutes of minho groaning and telling the stranger how much of a good pet he’s being for him. 

from then on you always told him every time you’re coming over. he doesn’t do the same to you, very much loving going in and out of your place like he pays for it. 

he knew you never brought anyone over anyway. minho teased you for your lack of love or “lust interests”, as he called it. that earned him a flying boba ball hurling from your straw and straight towards his cheek. your “lust life” isn’t his concern anyway. and it’s the same with him. minho liked to fuck and it’s not any of your business.

he stuffs the condoms and sparkling water in his bag of groceries. 

“let’s go”, he says while blinking at you. you head out and walk back again towards the train station.  

the wind was cool on his skin. you are right beside him, the air making your hair flutter as you talk about jisung calling you earlier this morning about some prank he pulled on changbin that minho hasn’t even heard of yet. 

you and jisung have already gotten closer since you two met on his birthday. and since then, minho kept appearing in your apartment more often so his title won’t be replaced.

he wanted to listen to your story. he really did. especially when it concerned his friends being absolute idiots. but all he heard was “jisungie”, “pink”, “butt”, and “burst” while the rest of your words were getting carried away by the cool wind.

he nods at every word with a smile, trying to focus as much as he can. but seriously, how can he when the light from the streetlamp is making your features soft and all perfect for him to stare at, and when you’re letting out airy giggles that interrupts the story itself.

he laughs at that. you clutch your stomach, as if his laugh pushed yours to intensify tenfold. you don't have to know he’s laughing at you and not whatever jisung did to make poor changbin suffer. 

you calm down after a few minutes and sit at a nearby bench with a sigh and a faint smile adorning your face.

“i can’t breathe. let’s sit for a while”, you say, eyes closed. 

your eyelashes are kissing your face and he has never wanted to imitate something so bad. at this point he doesn’t care where his thoughts wander to. he doesn’t think deeply about the implications. not when he can look at you right now.

a few silent seconds and then you jerk your head to the bushes on the right. he looks at you confused. a faint meow can be heard and you all but melt when you see a tiny kitten hiding but seemingly wanting attention. 

he holds in a deep breath as you call for the cautious little stray in front of you. he gives you a packet of the cat treat he always brings, and you gently coo at it so as to not scare the poor thing away.

“it’s okay, baby. you have to eat”, you say as you kneel in front of the little guy. he smiles at that.

he told you before that cats would feel less threatened if you make yourself smaller in front of them. you always listen so well. he realizes how both of your little habits, like feeding stray cats or doing groceries, have seemed to intertwine with one another over time.

you’re talking so sweetly to the cat and it overwhelms him. if he exhaled, he thinks he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from yelling or something.

the kitten comes closer, suspicious of the stranger offering him the food. he takes a sniff, you’re as still as possible, and it eventually licks the treat. you beam. your eyes turn to crescents and it’s the most overwhelming thing ever that he ends up finally exhaling but not before clenching his jaw so hard so he won’t be able to startle you or the kitten.

you start petting it and the little fellow allows him. he knows it’s the greatest honor in life for you. much like when soonie finally sat on your lap. eventually, he collects himself and the little stray allows him to pet it too.

“wish i could put every stray cat in my bag and take it home”, he says as the kitten starts purring like an engine.

“i’ll bring my bag too so we have space for more.”

minho smiles at your statement. the little guy keeps purring as minho rubs just under his ear. 

to his shock, this one suddenly jumps on your shoulders and nestles itself on top of your head. you go completely still, afraid that if you move it will jump back down. 

minho inhales so deep. he starts thinking you’ll make him break breath-holding records someday. 

he grabs your phone that he still somehow has, trying not to make the array of keychains jangle. you laugh at his attempts to not startle the kitten with your dangling keyrings. he takes hold of your phone and takes the picture.

you look at him, still smiling, and the little guy starts making biscuits on your head. minho keeps holding his breath. you try very hard to stay really still despite feeling the ball of fur tickling your scalp. you’re trying so hard not to laugh and squirm at the kitten’s massages and minho can’t help but sigh out all the air he’s been holding.

“marry me.” 

the words are out before he knows it. it takes him a second to realize what it meant. he looks at you and it’s so silent. you’ve gotten completely still and you’re no longer smiling as the kitten makes biscuits on your head. he can hear his heart beating too loud. he fucked up. 

he fucked up. stupid stupid stupid. the kitten jumps from your head and runs to a distant meowing sound, probably its mother, and you’re still completely unmoving. you’re blinking at him, an unreadable expression on your face.

he takes your grocery bags and puts them in your hands.

“i- i gotta go. text me when you get home”, he mutters, still not looking at you.

when you move on from the shock, minho was already across the street and heading inside the train station hurriedly.

what the fuck?

you get up, still confused, and you try running to get on the train he’s in. it shuts before you can, and you’re standing there on the platform, confused and worried.

the ride back home is too loud for minho. loud and fucking heavy. minho was never good with confrontations. he was never really good at expressing what he felt either. 

marry him? what the fuck? he never paused to really think about the possible feelings he might have towards you yet the words slipped out of his mouth anyway. it slipped out faster than he realized that he might actually like you. and when he did realize, it was immediately after saying those stupid words which was why he started panicking instead of the obvious choice of laughing it off.

but he fucked up and fucked up again when he left you there. minho groans, bags heavy in his lap, and the ride home felt longer than usual.

he remembers this is where he met you, right on this train on the way to university. it was a normal day, he was on the 6 am train and you were outside rushing to get on board with a “pleasepleaseplease” leaving your mouth. 

by your luck, or his, you made it inside and sigh in relief. 

minho noticed your damp hair, baggy hoodie, and ridiculous-looking pants with too many pockets. 

you were still breathing heavily and you're holding onto one of the poles. when you looked up, your eyes directly met his. 

he blinked at you before deciding to pat the empty seat next to him. by definitely his luck, you sat there even though there were other free seats.

“thank you”, you mumbled out shyly, avoiding his gaze. he just hummed. you made no advances to talk to him after that which made him a bit disappointed.

when he noticed you bringing out your phone to check your emails, he inwardly thanked the also ridiculous-looking keychains hanging on your phone case.

“isn’t that heavy?” he asked with a teasing tone.

you looked at the voice who just spoke to you and he couldn’t help but smile wider at the shudder laced in your words.

“w-what?” 

“your keychains.”

“oh, these”, you mumble and he nods. “they don’t feel heavy to me. actually, they feel too light for my liking? i want more. some of them i bought, some are given. it’s like a collecting-thing.”

he softly laughed at your rambling that you didn’t seem to notice.

“can i see?”

you handed him your phone and your hand brushed against his. your soft hands. he inspected the thing and gave you back your phone, making sure to brush his fingers past your hand again. 

“i have one in my backpack. would you want one?” minho offered.

“r-really?” 

minho laughed at your nervous state. why were you so nervous? 

“yeah. it’s probably buried in here though so i’m not sure if i can get it right now. i can give it to you some other time, maybe?”

“you don’t have to bother, really.”

“no. it’s cute. the keychains. it would be an honor.” minho said.

“i um.. i’m al- a student in the university at the next stop. i-”

“great! me too. i’ll look for it there.”

when you two got to the university, minho dug through his backpack for one of the keytags in there. he found it under layers of crumpled paper, then noticed his jureumi doodle on it. he handed it to you with a smile and you gladly took it.

“this is quite… interesting. you drew this?” you asked.

“yeah. i- yeah.”

you laughed and immediately stuck it on one of the other keyrings on your phone.

“there! i will make sure to take care of it”, you said, bowing at him in gratitude. 

“well, i gotta make sure that you make sure to take care of it. what time’s your break?”

the rest was history. the train beeps and announces his stop so he gets up and leaves. 

it’s been four days and he hasn’t seen you since. you messaged him that night telling him you got home to which he sighed in relief but he didn’t reply back, feeling too awkward to do so. 

he didn’t come over to your place either. he can’t face you after that. 

he supposes you’d either a) tease him about it and he can finally say it was a joke but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway which will drive you away; or b) act normal and pretend it never happened and he can be relieved but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway and he wouldn’t be able to stand ignoring it. 

you actually went with option b, he thinks. he knew you weren’t good at confrontation either. you messaged him the next day if you could come over like usual but he replied with “busy” so you don’t push. 

you tried again the next day, then the next, but he kept saying the same thing. you still asked earlier this morning, the fourth time now, and he was about to reply the same four letters until his phone came flying across the couch thanks to kim seungmin.

“do you wanna get sma-”

“i can’t stand it”, the boy interrupts.

minho still looks at him angrily and a bit confused.

“i really can’t stand it. you asked to hang out but i can tell you’re angry at something and you’ve been passive-aggressive the whole time”, seungmin finally breathes out.

“first of all, i asked jisung first but he said he was busy-” 

“there you go again. what’s wrong, minho?” seungmin interrupts again.

minho just sighs. he’s feeling a bit guilty now. seungmin always meant well. maybe that’s why he called him next. even if he sucked at confrontation, seungmin read people well and maybe he just needed someone to understand without him having to say it out loud. minho didn’t realize that and apparently, the younger man was already fed up.

“it’s y/n, isn’t it?” seungmin asked. minho closes his eyes. he really is too observant.

“jisung told me that she told him you have been ignoring her” oh nevermind. so jisung told him. minho sighs, not sure if he should say the words out loud.

“i… i think i love her.”

“you think?” 

seungmin is just baffled. he laughs at his friend’s stupidity and lack of awareness of his own emotions. 

minho groans.

“so why are you ignoring her?” seungmin sat more comfortably, although a bit far from the older boy, just in case he says something that would make minho wanna smack him with a pillow.

“i told her i wanted to marry her”, minho says quietly and seungmin can’t hold himself back from laughing but minho continues. “it’s so fucking stupid. i told her that and then i realized that maybe i liked her. i just stood there like an idiot then i left.”

it felt good to get the words out, he realizes. seungmin is still laughing with a hand clutching his stomach. minho throws a pillow at him and the younger boy calms down.

“you’re cute, minho. but you still didn’t answer my question. why are you ignoring her now?"

“didn’t i just tell you?”

“no?” seungmin interjects. “did she reject your ridiculous marriage proposal?” 

“i just told you i left.”

“and there it is. you had no right to leave! you weren’t the one to say yes!” seungmin shakes his head, still smiling.

minho never considered that maybe you liked him back. he just… never did. 

he recalls back to that time he met you on the train. from the first time he laid eyes on you, you piqued his curiosity. from your wet hair to your oversized pants with too much pockets to the keychains on your phone, he really wanted to get to know you better. when you told him you were free until your 12 noon class, that also spiked his interest because why the hell were you rushing to get on the 6 am train when your classes start six hours later? 

your childlike wonder made him immediately want to be your friend. he didn’t question it since his close friends are a bunch of grown men with the interests and loudness of children anyway. not that he's any different. 

so you two became friends. best friends over the span of two years. he was too afraid that two years is all he’d ever have with you so he didn’t consider that maybe, just maybe, that there's a chance kim seungmin is right.

he was about to speak up again before hearing his doorbell ring. 

“i got it”, seungmin says. 

instead of the pizza they were expecting, you were standing there, hair damp, and in pants with too much zippers this time. 

minho’s heart skips a beat. 

you look at seungmin then look at minho then look back at the guy in front of you. 

“i- i’m sorry-”

“no. it’s alright, y/n. i was just about to leave”, seungmin reassures you. 

seungmin goes back to the living room to gather his things that were scattered like he was definitely not about to leave. 

minho stays silent, finally picking up his phone from across the couch and he opens it to the unsent message on his screen.

seungmin gives you a goodbye and a quick hug, and minho grimaces at the action. since when did seungmin hug his friends? the door shuts and you’re heading towards him. 

he’s still. he can’t ignore you forever but he thinks he can’t face you too soon.

“look at me. i’m right in front of you and you’re still ignoring me?” you pout and minho finally looks up at you, your damp hair sticking to his shirt that you’re wearing.

you’re wearing his shirt. you really went with option b after all.

“you suck at proposals, you know?” you throw something on his lap and his eyes go to the familiar cat keychain that he saw you look at in the convenience store. “asking me to marry you and you didn’t even get me a ring.. tsk.”

your words barely sink in and his heart is still beating in a speed like never before. he looks up at you again and there you are, smiling down at him like you also feel the same.

“you-”

“yes, dumbass. i accept your horrible marriage proposal.” you’re grinning from ear to ear as you finally sit down on the couch next to him. you bring out your phone and show him the dangling other half of the magnetic keychain, attached to the jureumi keytag he gave you two years ago.

minho laughs. you accepted. you accepted the proposal that wasn’t really a proposal but more like a confession. you accepted it. you accepted him. he smiles wider at the ridiculousness of the moment.

“and i suppose these are the rings?” minho teases.

“mhm! want me to put it on your finger?” 

he laughs at that but nods. you insert the wide ring of the keychain on his finger and he giggles at the empty space.

“ya, you didn’t even get my ring size right!” he teases, eyes sparkling and heart practically bursting. he thinks he’s never been this happy.

“you really shouldn’t complain”, you retort back with a smile. “i mean, really, you proposed while i’m the one kneeling down, without rings, and then left! you’re hopeless, lee minho. at least i got us something”

minho grins while shaking his head.

“i’m sorry for leaving, y/n”, he takes your hand and kisses your fingers one by one. 

goosebumps run all over your body while his soft lips grace your skin. “in my defense, i didn’t know i’d be proposing.”

minho stops kissing your hand, taking your ring finger and inserting it into the empty space in the keychain right next to his.

“there. it fits perfectly.”

he looks at you, almost too fond, and you aren’t smiling anymore. you’re looking at him like you’re about to cry.

“you are so sappy. i’m in love with you, you know?” you whisper like it's a secret you are never meant to tell. minho looks at you and notices how glassy your eyes have become.

“shh. it’s okay.” 

he tucks a hair strand behind your ear. “i’m in love with you too. good for us, honestly. wouldn’t want us to marry when we don’t love each other.”

he’s sure your soft laughter is better than any music ever heard in this world.

“can i hug you?” you ask him shyly. 

the butterflies in his stomach are going crazy at that point but he lets out a chuckle at your question. he doesn’t quite understand how you’re still able to get so shy with him after all this time.

“you don’t have to ask.”

“i know, but just to be su-” minho interrupts you, removing the keychain from your fingers and quickly maneuvering you on top of his lap. you squeak and he encages you in a tight embrace.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders in return and you just about melt into his hug.

“you smell so good”, minho mutters while burying his nose into your neck. 

your previously damp hair that is now dry made him aware of your fresh-out-of-the-shower scent, and he inhales you in so deep, wanting to stay there forever. he can’t help but press a lingering kiss on your neck.

you whimper at the unexpected kiss. minho smiles at your reaction and peppers a few more kisses. you being so close to him is much better than smelling your scent in your bathroom. his lips continue kissing and he feels you let go of the hug, deciding to grip onto the material of his hoodie instead.

“minho”, you sigh, trying to even your breathing. 

“mm? what’s the matter?” he gets lost in your scent and decides that him inhaling isn’t enough. he licks the skin and groans at the shiver that runs through your whole body. “you’re so sensitive..”

he can feel you gripping the fabric tighter. he chuckles right next to your ear and that simple thing makes you shiver again which further amuses him.

minho licks another spot and he was about to suck on it, but someone rings the doorbell. he ignores it with a huff and proceeds to suck on the area. you let out a tiny moan and he smiles, sucking on it a bit harder. 

to both of your dismay, the doorbell rings again and minho gathers all his self-restraint to remove himself from you. 

he kisses your neck one last time before removing you from his lap. the grumpy look on his face is evident as he gets up to see what was so important that he was interrupted from marking you.

apparently it was the pizza that seungmin ordered. he thanked the delivery guy with a tip, and placed the food on the table.

you’re focused, putting the other half of the magnetic keychain on his phone case. he feels his heart melting.

“seungminnie ordered this with his money. i suppose we can enjoy this.” he grins at the mention of eating seungmin’s food and you just nod while blinking at him slowly with a blank expression. “or maybe we can eat this later.”

minho hovers over your figure and encages you on the couch. you’re just looking at him, smiling like a fool with dazed eyes. 

“you wanna continue, pretty girl?” minho asks in that sickeningly sweet tone. you could’ve sworn that there was concern laced in his voice if his hand wasn’t rubbing your thigh firmly which definitely overwhelmed you some more.

“min, i..” you start speaking but the rest of your sentence dies in your throat as you look at his hand inching higher. 

“mm?” he smiles down at you, noticing your hands digging into his couch. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll take care of you. will you let me?”

you nod at him. minho smiles. 

“but i… i’m not sure-”

“if you’re not ready right now, it’s okay. we can just eat-”

“no!” you interrupt him quickly. “it’s okay. i mean, i want it. now. i just- i’m not sure if i can be good? i don’t know what to do.”

minho’s heart skips a beat at your words. you’re just too cute. how can you ever think you won’t be good? you’re already being so good right now.

“shh. it’s okay. you’re already perfect. i said i’ll take care of you, yeah?” minho kisses your forehead and you know for sure that everything his lips touch makes you a bit dizzy.

“sorry. i’m acting like i don’t know shit. but like, practically, i don’t? i’m not a virgin but i- i uh i’ve only slept with one person so far.”

he giggles at your nervous rambling. you’re too adorable.

“yeah. you mentioned that before. it’s okay, pretty. don’t be nervous. it’s just me.”

“i didn’t tell you it was with a…  woman. the person i lost it to. so i, um, i don’t know how to handle stuff with a guy.” you confess.

minho’s cock twitches at the confession. not a single guy. he’s the first man you’ll ever have. you notice his jaw clench and he squeezes your thigh.

“you still want me?” minho asks, hoping for the obvious answer.

“want you now.”

minho nods and finally kisses you on the lips. 

your lips are so soft against his. it’s so soft and perfect and somehow familiar. 

he’s kissing you like it’s something he’s been practicing for his whole life. he lifts you from the couch, carrying you in his arms. your lips are slotted against each other. he licks over it and you let a moan escape making his tongue slip inside.

your mouth is so fucking perfect. so wet and so warm. his cock envies his tongue at the moment and he hurriedly opens the door to his bedroom. 

he lays you down on the bed and you let out a little stretch. he laughs at your cuteness.

“take it off.” you point at his clothes. he has such a smug look on his face. this can’t be happening. no, this really is. 

he removes his shirt and lays on top of you. 

he’s so beautiful like this. you trace your fingers on his skin, mouth agape at your crazy hot best friend, looking down at you with a smile. you trace the scar on his abdomen that somehow makes him prettier. minho laughs at your actions.

he takes your wandering hands and pins them right beside you. he kisses you again in the same breath, harder, messier, more forceful as if he wants to consume you whole. you whine into the kiss and he all but swallows your noises, licking and biting and sucking all over your mouth. 

when minho’s hands let go of your pinned arms, you scramble to hold onto his shoulders. he kisses down your neck, hands touching everywhere and eventually bunching up the fabric of his shirt you’re wearing, up and over your head. 

“shit.”

his mouth kisses all the way down to your collarbones, then to your shoulders, and he pulls one of the straps down, kissing the spot where the bra strap was. 

“minho, need you already.” you desperately sigh while tugging at his hair. he kept kissing all over your shoulders and down your chest, before pulling down the cups and letting your breasts spill out. his jaw clenches. even better than he thought.

“i know, baby. but let me take my time, yeah?” he says sweetly with a furrow in his brows before groping one of your tits and licking your nipple. he feels you whine and shudder at the sensation. “fuck.”

he keeps his hands full of them, continuing to lick and suck while humming in content. 

at that point you can no longer help but squeeze and scratch his shoulders.

minho lets go of your nipple and grins.

“kitty likes to scratch? is this too much?” he says with fake concern in his voice while he pinches the hardened bud. your eyes close, hands gripping him tighter because of how sensitive he’s making you

“i asked you a question, baby. look at me when i ask you a question.” he brings himself back up to look at your cute face all scrunched up, his hand stroking your cheek with his thumb. this is too much. how can he be demanding yet fucking soft about it?

you open your eyes, brows furrowed in frustration.

“there we go. now answer. is this too much?” he goes back to your chest again, slowly this time, dragging his finger downwards. when he reaches your breast, he encircles your nipple and rubs it lightly, his feather-light touch making you tremble. 

“yes”, you whined. “minho-”

he suddenly pinches hard and rolls it in between his fingers. you moan out loud and he chuckles, admiring how much of a mess he’s already made of you.

he unclasps your bra and dives his tongue into your mouth again while his fingers pull down the zipper on your pants. he tugs it off but is met with resistance. confused, he breaks away from the kiss and sees that it was the wrong zipper. you giggle after realizing what happened.

“you and your weird pants.” he zips down the proper zipper this time, and pulls it down along with your underwear. 

your jumpy thighs immediately close at the cool air in his room but he spreads them wide for him, negating your attempts.

“shit, you’re made for me.” he runs a finger through your folds, gathering the slick that formed and spreading it all over your cunt. “so wet, baby. knew you’d leak for me just right.”

you bite your lip, muffling your sounds when his fingers come into contact with your pussy. he takes a thumb to your clit and rubs. 

“min-”

“i know, baby. it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” he coos, applying more pressure. “i’ll play with it for a bit. you’ll let me, yeah?”

minho’s position in between your legs kept you from your poor attempts of bringing your thighs together. he pinches your clit softly and your hips jerk even more.

“you can’t keep still, can you?” minho chuckles. “it’s okay, i’ll make you.”

minho lays down, eyes right above your cunt. he spreads your pussy with two of his fingers before diving in for a taste. he groans. too fucking good.  

your thighs enclose his head. he takes both of his arms to hold your hips down while he greedily laps at your cunt. 

“mmh” he mumbles onto your wetness, alternating between lingering flicks to your clit, licking down to gather more of your slick, then back above. “hold your legs, baby. be good for me, yeah?”

you listen to him, hooking your hands below your knees. you’re crying out his name and he takes it upon himself to add his fingers to the mix. 

he slips his middle finger inside, groaning at the resistance. god, your’e so fucking tight. his tongue starts sucking on your clit and you whine for him so cutely. he buries the whole finger in, making you gasp, and he temporarily releases you from his mouth.

“mm. there we go.”

minho is already drunk on your cunt at this point. he goes back to licking and sucking and thrusting and playing with it like he said he would. 

he adds another finger afterwards and starts scissoring you open. 

one specific curl of his fingers gets you moaning his name, more high-pitched than the previous ones. he chuckles directly on your pussy and does it again while simultaneously dragging his teeth across your clit.

you thrash under him, gripping under your legs harder, still following what he told you to do. so obedient. 

minho is fucking livid. he’s messy with it. you can feel his heavy tongue and plump lips all over you. your moans are getting more frequent, your legs starting to shake.

“you feel it baby?” minho says in between licks, his fingers continuing to abuse that one spot. you think you’re about to burst.

“min- please. i’ll-”

“cum on my tongue.” he orders and your body follows him. you cum so dizzyingly hard and minho continues dragging his hot tongue on your cunt. you let go of your thighs and push his head crying about it being too much.

he pulls off with a smile, licking his fingers that were just in you. intoxicating.

you’re breathing heavily, eyes closed from the intense orgasm and thighs practically vibrating. your hair is messy on his sheets, parts of your sucked red and purple, your pussy glistening because of him. all of it, because of him. you’re so fucking insatiable. 

he runs his hand up your shaking thighs and you flinch at his touch. he rubs his hand on your swollen clit and you flinch harder, still sensitive. 

“poor baby is twitching. can’t wait to be buried right here.” he drags his hand up from your cunt to your lower belly and pushes down. you squirm. after a while, you finally open your eyes and look at him.

he’s smiling wide, mouth a whole mess, even his nose was a bit wet because of you. you’d be embarrassed but he’s so fucking pretty and it turns you on even more.

“n-need a moment, min.” you say in a hushed tone, still trying to even your breathing. minho nods and lies down next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear again. how is he so soft?

“take your time. you’re so beautiful all spread like this.” his voice is so fond. “could stare at you all day.”

“you’re pretty too.” you tell him with a smile, eyes traveling down his form. 

he’s still wearing his sweatpants and you notice his dick poking through it. your curious hands travel down his stomach to the bulging outline in his pants. minho hisses and grabs your hand.

“you’re going to drive me insane.” minho is too fucking hard and he’s trying his best to wait since you needed your moment. but the way you look in front of him, fully naked with your innocent eyes and soft hands wanting to grab his dick, he might just lose it.

“wanna see it, min. can i?” you ask. 

you’re a goddamn angel. you’re asking permission and that somehow makes his cock twitch. he can’t really resist you, not when you’re looking at him like that. and not like he wanted to anyway. 

he sits against his headboard, motioning you to sit on his lap. he rubs your thighs gently. you’re so warm on top of him. so pretty. 

“pull it out then.” 

with shaky hands, you pull down his sweatpants just enough to pull his hard cock out. he bites his lip when your soft fucking hands touch his dick. he can feel his ego inflating when you gasp and look at it with wide eyes. 

he’s big. you haven’t seen a lot of dicks but you know it's big. thicker than what you’ve seen in the media, and a bit more than average in length.

“it’s..”

“hm?”

“it’s really pretty like you.” 

minho laughs at your statement. you have his hard cock in your soft hands and you’re calling him pretty. you’re too fucking cute. 

you notice it’s already leaking a considerable amount. you swipe experimentally at the tip and he grips your thighs harder.

“baby”, he speaks in warning.

“mm?” you continue caressing his dick, admiring how his thigh muscles clench and his breathing hitches.

“don’t be a brat. you said you needed a moment.”

“but you’re so sensitive here too?” you return the faux concern to him. you squeeze just below the tip and he moans. “wanna play with it, min. like you did with me.”

oh? you’re getting bold? minho clenches his jaw, glaring at you. he wanted you to stop before he cums too soon, but your soft and warm fucking hands felt too good on his cock. he tries to distract you.

“grab a condom from my drawer, baby.” thankfully, you obey. you notice it’s the new condoms. who knew he really was gonna use it for you.

you open the foil, and he guides you to slip it down his cock. eventually, you start stroking him again and he whimpers.

“see? you like it!” you say confidently while minho’s brain starts glitching. “you’re gonna lay there for me, won’t you?”

you’re getting cocky. and somehow it’s turning him on more. you’re on top of him acting like a big girl. he likes that. he’ll put you back in place eventually.

“yeah? you wanna play?” 

you nod with a faint smile, still softly stroking his dick.

“we’ll play on my own terms, pretty.”

he grabs your hips with rough palms and sits you right on top of his cock. both of you moan at the wetness. he grips your hips and grinds you down. 

“minho-” you whine, gripping onto his shoulders. 

you’re squirming again, trying to get out of his hold on. your clit is still a bit sensitive from earlier yet he’s dragging it on his wet cock like he wants it to overwhelm you. minho grunts.

“said you wanted to play with it. you don’t like this?” minho says, his voice like honey right next to your ear. 

he’s fucking pressing you down on it. your thighs are so fidgety but his strong hands are still holding your hips down, making you take it.

you just whimper and he laughs.

“your moment passed, baby. i’m gonna fuck you now.”

minho swiftly pins you down under him, tapping his cock on your clit.

“shit, min-”

“you ready, baby?”

“still sensitive. don’t know if i’ll last”, you answer honestly. minho kisses your forehead.

“it’s alright, y/n. it’s just me.”

you nod at him and he collects your slick on his cock, hissing through his teeth. he pushes one of your legs up, his other hand slowly inching the tip in your entrance.

“fuck.”

you’re clutching the sheets. it fucking hurts. you’re both so wet against each other but his huge fucking cock felt too much.

“hurts, min.”

minho hums, stopping his movements. his tip is already in, and he starts to press soft kisses on your neck again. 

he rubs on your clit and you twitch under him, inserting his cock in you even more slowly. 

you’re so fucking tight. tight and wet and fucking perfect. you’re clenching so hard on him, he can barely slip inside without using his hand to guide him in. he’s breathing heavily above you, and he notices you stopped breathing altogether.

“baby, breathe.” he caresses your thigh softly. “i know it hurts but i promise it’s gonna be good later. breathe for me. try to relax.”

his soft voice is washing over your senses. you nod as you try to follow his words. who knew taking his cock would be so fucking hard? 

“there you go. not used to taking big cocks, huh?” minho teases which gets you laughing airily. “i suppose you’re not used to taking cocks at all. so i should really make this good for you.”

you take a moment to try and focus on something else other than that thing penetrating you. you look at minho smiling down at you, eyes fucking sparkling like he’s waited for this his whole life. he’s really so beautiful. if you knew he’d look this pretty for you right from the start, you would’ve approached him sooner on the train. it doesn’t matter though. you have him now.

“you can try moving again.” you softly mutter.

minho rubs on your clit a bit more firmly, and keeps whispering in your ear while situating himself inside.

“so good, baby. you have no idea.”

“you’re clenching so much. try to relax. for me? don’t wanna cum while i’m not even halfway inside you.”

“shit, feels perfect in here.”

“there we go. shh sh, it’s alright you’re doing so well.”

“just a few more. still hurts?”

“feels full? i know, pretty. but just a bit more.”

he talks you through it and you swear your mind is already fuzzy by the time he bottoms out.

“you took it all. i’m so proud of you.” he says with a kiss on your cheek. he feels your cunt clench around him at his words and he smiles.

“min- fuck, it’s so deep.”

“i know. let me know if i can move, yeah?” minho is gripping onto the sheets. you’re so fucking snug and wet around his cock. it’s better than any fucking thing ever. he could stay buried here. 

after a few soft kisses and involuntary clenches, you decide that you’re ready for him to move. minho pushes your leg higher, dragging himself out and slowly sliding back in with a little force. 

“shit, minho.”

“you’re so tight. fucking gripping me.”

minho repeats the motions, slow but hard, and soon enough you’re squeezing his arms and moaning his name. you can feel him rub against a certain spot and you’re sure you’re about to explode.

“p-please go faster.”

“you sure?”

“yes, min. fuck- just. please.”

minho kneels and presses both of your legs to your chest. he slips his cock inside you hard and gets to a pace quicker than before. he fits so well. you start screaming from him as his dick rubs against your g-spot even better and he starts kissing your mouth again. he licks and sucks on your tongue, and lifts your hips a bit higher and angles his hips a bit differently then rams his cock into you.

“f-fuck, minho. n-not so hard.” you cry out, wincing at the pain of him nudging your cervix. it’s fucking painful. minho apologizes and pulls out, rubbing his head on your clit to get your mind off the pain.

“i wanna try something. wanna take you from behind. you alright with that?” minho says softly.

“o-okay.” you nod, and minho presses a sweet kiss to your lips before flipping you over.

he manhandles you to a position he likes, ass up, face down, spreading your legs a bit wider. you’re a dream. he taps his tip on your pussy, which gets your whining, before slipping inside and continuing his pace.

you’re squirming and moaning much more. somehow, his dick felt even better in this position. minho grabs your ass and thrusts just how he likes. you’re crying out his name.

“mmm. letting me do this to you.. you like taking big cocks, baby?” he says, gripping your bruised hips so tight like it’s his job. you’re nodding, hair messy all over his pillows.

“o-only yours.” you cry out loud. you’re already drooling but he can’t see that.

“that’s right. only mine. i’ll train you to please it. train you to crave it. you’ll like that, won't you?”

he angles his hips and slams into that fucking spot which gets you twitching under him.

“i asked you a question, baby. what did i tell you to do when i ask you a question?”

he gets one of his hands to pull both your arms together, tugging so your head would be lifted up. minho takes his other hand, holding your jaw firmly. you look behind you, staring at him, and he sees how fucking beautiful you are. your cheeks are stained with tears, your chin wobbling with drool over them, your eyes glassy and dazed from how good he’s fucking you.

“that’s right. thought you forgot.” he keeps thrusting and you’re moaning so loud as if it’s the only thing you’re good for. “so? would you like that? train you to be mine?”

minho is so fucking mean. 

you try to answer. you really do. but every time your mouth moves, he just slams into that spot that gets you moaning his name instead.

“can’t even speak?” minho laughs and decides to let go of your face. you fall back into the pillows. 

“i’ll let it slide for now since i have to make sure to fuck you good.”

he carries on with his thrusts. you’re trying so hard to prolong your orgasm, not wanting this to end. he starts groping your tits from behind you, his other hand rubbing your clit in quick motions. fuck. 

minho is so close. your pussy is so fucking wet and the recoil of your ass from his thrusts is driving him insane. you can’t control your moans and he knows you’re close as well.

“you close, baby?” he huffs.

“yes, min. i’m- s-o close.”

“hold it.” 

you fucking groan. minho’s brows are furrowed, he’s focusing on your wet fucking cunt squelching so loud from his rubbing and thrusting. your legs start to shake violently, minho slaps your ass from how fucking dirty you look and feel around him.

“min, i can’t-”

“you can.”

“no-”

“just a little more. you’re cumming with me.”

minho is thrusting like a mad man. his grip on you is so tight, and you’re fucking begging for him to let you cum.

“pleasepleaseplease-”

“cum.”

you jerk violently under him while moaning his name, and he’s cumming. he’s cumming so fucking hard. harder than he ever had in his life. it’s so good. so fucking addicting. he’s moaning in your ear, you’re clenching around him so hard and it’s so wet and overwhelming. he tries to pull out but you’re gripping his cock fucking tightly like you’re made to keep him there. he feels himself weaken and he slumps on top of you. 

it takes him a few moments to regain himself, and he slowly removes himself from inside you.

you were in a faraway place. your body feels too light, but also so heavy that you can’t move. you can’t think either. you feel minho flipping you on your back. he’s talking so sweetly but you can’t really register his words while he kisses your lips, then your nose, then your forehead, then the top of your head.

he mutters something about cleaning you both and you’re too far away to respond. it’s good. you feel fucking great. after a while, the bed dips and he’s running a warm cloth in between your thighs. 

you’re so pretty, he thinks. like his personal angel. you’re laying their dazed, and he thinks he’s the luckiest fucking person in the world. he can see your eyes getting droopy, about to pass out from the amazing sex you both had. 

minho dresses you both, and wraps you in his blanket.

“you’re too cute. i’ll be here when you wake up.” 

after a few hours, you wake up with your entire body aching. it’s usual for you since you manage to sleep in odd positions. but this time, it ached in new places. you chuckle at the memory. you sit back up and rub your eyes.

minho enters his room, glad that you’re already awake. 

“sleep well?”

you nod. you notice he’s carrying a paper bag in his hands. minho drops it on his desk and heads to your soft form on his bed. he kisses you on the mouth and you freeze with a blush.

minho notices and laughs at you.

“i already had my tongue in you and you’re blushing at a little kiss?” he smiles widely. his words make you blush more.

“you took me by surprise is all...” you try defending yourself. you know you wouldn’t get used to your friend being so physically intimate with you any time soon. you can’t help but feel all shy.

it’s minho, for fuck’s sake. your asshole friend who keeps stealing your food and taking horrible pictures of you. but that’s exactly why. 

it’s minho. your asshole friend who’s too sweet and pretty and funny for his own good.

“what’s going through your pretty head?” minho asks, tracing his fingers on your bare thigh.. your smooth thigh he can now touch like this.

“i can’t believe we skipped the marriage and went straight to the honeymoon” you tease. he laughs with you.

“yeah we kinda suck at this. skipping the boyfriend-girlfriend phase and straight to engagement..” minho mumbles with a smile while kissing your bruised neck. “then skipping the marriage and straight to consummation.”

you shiver while giggling at his kisses. you’re so sensitive for him. he likes that.

“wouldn’t have it any other way.” you say. 

his hands inch higher and higher on your thighs until he gets interrupted by the grumble of your stomach. both of you laugh.

“we have all the time in the world to continue later. let’s get you fed.” minho grins, pulling you from the bed. 

“oh and”, minho smiles widely, giving you the paper bag. you look at the contents with a grin of success on your face. “there’s your pudding. compounded.”

+-+-+-+

a/n: that was a lot. stretch a bit, drink some water, wash your face. that's what i did after writing lololol. i rlly hope this wasn't too much.. ALSO i tagged ppl who were asking for a part 2. if u want to get removed pls lmk!

+-+-+-+

tags: @stayinlimbo @all4minnie @emmaluvsjisung @ddiidi @8bigguys @sunnysidesins

[byfulcrums]

DC headcanons but you can tell who's my favorite

For some reason Wally cries everytime he eats chicken nuggets with the Titans

Not even Wally knows why this happens

It's only with the original Titans. No one else. They have a rule that says Wally isn't allowed to eat chicken nuggets when he's around them because they all hate to see him cry

Iris sleeptalks. Barry sometimes has full conversations that make no sense with her at four in the morning

Hal has a video that lasts 40 minutes saved on every single piece of technology he has. It's about Iris (who was asleep) and Barry (very much awake, but probably delusional) arguing about whether koalas are evil or not

Tim had a Tumblr blog where he posted photos of Batman and Robin that looked like they were taken from very close angles

Jason follows it. One time he was complaining that his favorite blog hadn't posted anything in years. When Tim asked him to show him what account it was, he panicked, tried to run away, hit his head and passed out from exhaustion

Jason is still confused about that, but no matter how much he insists, Tim refuses to give his secret away

Wally has a deep hatred for Dora the Explorer

The Young Justice once ran away to a different country for a whole month and refused to acknowledge it when they came back

Iris, Barry and Hal are all dating. Barry didn't realize it at first though (Hal didn't either)

Barry was really panicking over the fact that he seemed to be in love with his best friend when he's already married

Hal was really panicking over the fact that he was in love with his best friend who is already married

Iris thought they were all just poly. They had a very long conversation after she realized none of them knew about polyamorous relationships

Wally and Dick, even though they both have their own romantic partners, are soulmates in every universe (can be seen as romantic or platonic)

Wally once got both him and Dick (as Flash and Nightwing) banned from a cafe. Dick wasn't even there

He accidentally knocked a candle and burned the table down

But what actually got them banned was commenting to the very homophobic owner that “I don't have a major opinion on that Nightwing guy besides of the fact that he gives some really good blowjobs” (they never even fucked)

In Wally's defense, he was really unstable at the moment, and he panicked

Of course, people filmed it. And, of course, it went viral. Now all of his friends quote him on that all the time

Technically they're not banned anymore because the cafe's owner changed, but he's still too embarrassed to go so he ignores that

All speedsters are constantly vibrating, some being more obvious than others, due to the fact that being still is... really fucking difficult because of everything being slower for them

Bart's the most noticeable one. If you pay enough attention you'll notice that you can sometimes see a little bit of lightning coming out of his body

The vibrations causes them to do a low rumbling sound that isn't exactly snoring when they're sleeping. What I'm saying is that they purr

Linda was thrilled when she found out

None of the speedsters are aware of this and no one plans on telling them

One time the YJ were talking and Bart interrupted them so Tim turned around to face him and said “Cerra el orto” (shut your mouth in Spanish. The literal translation would be “shut your ass” but that sounds weird in English) in a really high pitched voice. Now the entire team quotes him on that almost everyday

Diana almost dropped a car on Bruce once and now she sometimes says stuff like “I should've let that car kill you” when he's doing something particularly stupid

The rest of the JL quotes it too. It is very common to hear the phrase “I wish Diana had dropped that car” in the Watchtower

Kori once blew up the kitchen because she thought something was climbing on her leg. It was her hair

The original Titans have a monthly meetup. It doesn't matter what kind of beef some of the members have with each other at the moment, they'll still meet. It's an unspoken rule

Hartley was Linda's best man in her and Wally's wedding

That's where him and Dick met

They now share embarassing stories about Wally. They're not really friends and they don't talk, like, at all, but they still send each other videos of Wally falling on his face almost everyday

Depression, just like ADHD, is something that almost all speedsters have, but it's almost unnoticeable because they always hide it, mostly using their superspeed to do it

Green lanterns and speedsters bond over starting to glow at the worst possible moments

Wally absolutely despises the smell of cinnamon

His parents's house smelled like that due to his mom being obssessed with adding cinnamon to every meal they ate, so it reminds him too much of the terrible childhood he had because of them

You can't really blame him for leaving social events when he smells cinnamon

Bruce has a video of Hal starting crying after Barry said “I think giraffes shouldn't be real” that he uses as blackmail sometimes

Barry's actual weakness is puns, he can't stop saying stuff like “I'll be there in a flash” and then winking like he knows something you don't. It's gonna get him in trouble someday

The YJ all have Tumblr accounts

Dick and Donna used to call each other the “Wonder Twins” so now Cassie and Tim are the Wonder Twins of their generation

The og Titans once followed Batman everywhere playing Superman by Eminem because he made Dick upset

Barry looks like he's about to cry all the time and he has no idea why

When the League revealed their identities to each other everyone was confused over why he was crying

It took him a while to convince everyone that that's just what his face looks like

He always looks like he's about to cry so when he's actually going to cry it's pretty obvious. And he hates it

When Wally and Barry first met and Wally started to talk about the Flash, he made a joke about how he always came to help “in a flash”. Now Barry repeats that joke all the time

Wally hates himself for being the reason why the ‘in a flash’ jokes started

When Barry makes a joke and Wally complains, Barry answers with “You were the one that created the joke, Wally. Live with the consequences”

[riddles-n-games]

Exposed

Pairing: N/A Summary: Grayson gets to enjoy a late start for once with his best girl, Tiramisu. Unfortunately, someone decides to spoil that dreamless sleep and expose his closely guarded secret. Puppy cuddles are therapeutic for the soul. Sue him. Length: Moderate Story Type: One Shot

A/N: Hey guys, sorry this is a bit late but this is my dedication to Grayson's birthday appreciation. Originally this was supposed to be a bonus fic after I released my second horse fic but as you can see that hasn't happened so I thought why not just get it done for his bday? (Ok, I know it's past his birthday but ignore that.)

    Disaster struck, tragedy ensued. He was discovered, his secret exposed. The world would know his wrath but world domination would have to wait a bit because at the moment, there was still a snuggly bundle curled up next to him asleep in his arms. He smiled down at her. 

    Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne. The Hawthorne puppy was not so small anymore as she was five months old now but she was just as wriggly, happy, and fluffier than ever. And also a backstabber by choosing him as her favorite Hawthorne which must have been the reason for the flash breakin that woke him. He heard sniggering and hushed voices down the hall which meant two suspects; Xander and Jameson. On an infamous night when a certain incident occurred perhaps involving the tightest pair of leather pants in existence, videos and photos were taken and posted that unfortunately went viral.

    While he managed to deep clean the Internet in only the way Grayson Hawthorne could, the original menac-posters still had the content saved to their devices, several of them. He feared how much new blackmail material they got away with this time. He would scour every corner, surface and dark web, deep cleaning the Internet of all footage just like the first time. He’d get his revenge, he just had to bide his time.     

Grayson would not be dubbed Mr. Cuddles and yes, he would decline the puppy interview to keep his sanity, no matter how many hearts were broken or the adorableness of the pups. He would not yield. This was a call to war; a total and absolute declaration. In such a case, Hawthornes loved getting down in the dirt and Grayson didn’t mind getting his hands dirty to get things squared. Playing dirty meant gloves off; that was the Hawthorne way. So maybe his homicidal mother was right about something after all.

    But till then he’d relax in his bed and enjoy a late morning for once, though the photographer in him was now itching for a photo. The rays of sunlight coming in through the blinds, the way it lit up the carpet and the left side of his bed, the adorable puppy snoozing happily under his comforter- Ah yes, her. She would be his subject but he was too comfortable to get up and he didn’t want to disturb her. Besides, growing puppies still need plenty of sleep.  “Just don’t grow up too quickly,” he whispered. The photoshoot could happen later.

    Suddenly, Tiramisu shifted in his arms and started pawing at his chest, whimpering as the swiping got faster. Nightmare?  Note to self, look into dog dreaming. “Shh, girl. You’re alright.”

   Grayson moved away to avoid getting scratched and quickly turned her over so that her legs were away from him, hugging her tight and readjusting the blanket over them. When he got resettled, he brought a hand to her ear and rubbed gentle circles into the fur with his thumb. He loved her ears; they were super soft, curly, fluffy, and floppy. Oh how time went by; it was funny, he mused, how attached to the puppy he became after a few short months. Who knew that all it took was a puppy to single-handedly turn Grayson Hawthorne into a pile of mush? 

    Yes, so he was wrapped around her cute little paw. He’d hurt anyone who dared make a move. But it’d taken being at his lowest to get where he was now. 

    After Atonement Night, he often found her wandering his wing or lying down at the foot of his door, waiting to be let in. Her tail would instantly start wagging when he approached and those forlorn puppy eyes would stare deep into his soul, so hopeful that he’d let her in and how could he say no to that face? 

     He’d sigh a little dramatically and just before he unlocked the door, she’d get up, waiting expectantly as he scanned the hall for uninvited visitors and extra cameras. When he opened the door, he would pause so she could go in first and prance right past him, heading for his closet. It confused him as to what the pup found so interesting there as he would set down his stuff on and around the desk before heading for the ensuite. Most times he’d leave her be as there were spare clothes in the bathroom but one time he forgot so when he entered the closet, he found her wrapped in old shirts and socks with one of his slippers in her possession. He wasn’t sure what to make of it but she looked too cute and innocent with those big eyes that he just had to take a picture. 

    Some weeks passed and the pattern continued; every time he checked on her, she had his slipper and rested on a particular shirt that he discovered was from his HCD days. She also started staying late into the night in his room, sleeping at the foot of his bed right next to his slippers; another photo op. Eventually that too changed as when he woke early to swim, a chocolate brown lump would greet him at the edge of his bed which often got him smiling to himself. He would do his best to slip out of bed without disturbing her and before he left, scratched behind her ears and placed a fluffy blanket on top of her. 

    It didn’t take long for him to jump the gun and when he finally caught her sneaking onto the bed one night, he called to her and patted the spot next to him. Tiramisu had all too eagerly bounded toward him, all happy tail wags and pants before she laid her head on his side and settled down. 

    When she fell asleep, Grayson stayed awake, stroking her fur and staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. For the first time he’d realized that something about him was changing; he’d been careless. No, not in a bad way but he hadn’t been paying much attention to his actions for once, at least, in regards to the puppy. Though he remained his usual controlled self wherever he was in the House and in his wing with Tiramisu in tow, he hadn’t bothered acting removed or unaffected by her happy presence. He could just be. Sure, he wasn’t around her much those first few weeks but he hadn’t been cold or distanced when they were alone. It was just that the little happy accidents had finally gotten the ball rolling and pushed them together to start bonding properly. He never relaxed that quickly around anybody so it was a shock to him how quickly he adapted to being laid back and receptive to her in his privacy, his safe space. She made him happier, more smiley (that was still something he didn’t want to easily admit); that was when he knew Xander had been right. No wall was too high or too strong for her to knock down with just a blink of her big eyes. But Xan would never get to know that unless he ran out of secrets to share during Chutes and Ladders which he doubted would ever happen. But most important of all, she made him feel carefree. 

    For so long, he had to keep his guard up and be perfect; that was his curse as heir apparent. Former heir apparent. Eve and Emily, they’d been awful lapses in judgment but dwelling on the past did nothing to wash away the sins. And he’d been learning to let that go, slowly. Spending time with the puppy in his room helped that progress and relieved the ache of responsibility off his shoulders. With Tiramisu, he finally felt that long needed peace and it was nice that she had no expectations of that sort. All she needed was food, water, sleep, and play while all she wanted was a bit of attention, snuggles, walks, and love. Grayson knew he could give that much because what was a dog’s duty as man’s best friend in comparison? 

    They were expected to be loyal, trusting, fearless, protective, playful, and loving. They had to give all of themselves to their purpose and one could beat them, hurt them, scare them into submission, break them completely and a dog would still give and give and give in hopes that they would be enough for their owner’s expectations. That they would be worthy of just a bit of affection that their owner could spare no matter what they went through because it was in their nature. And hadn’t that been him his entire life thus far?

    He’d given and given more every time as he bent over backwards trying to please his grandfather and the world as the heir, as the second eldest, as the one with the brightest future of all his brothers. He dedicated himself wholly; heart, body, mind, and soul to perfecting each talent, every skill, every part of his being to be the perfect well-oiled machine of control. And it was all for naught. But that hadn’t been Avery’s fault. It was just that begged the question, What now? What to do with his life after all he’d been promised and told to do so he could become the rightful successor worthy of his grandfather’s place was ripped right from under him? He didn’t know. The foundation wasn’t going to need him forever and he dropped Harvard so what next? 

    The chocolate Labradoodle obscured that and he’d been immensely thankful for it. She reminded him that there was a time and a place and maybe where he needed to be was just in the right now. He could do that and he would have her to keep that new motto going. Having a new pet in Hawthorne House in general had been good; it gave him and his brothers a change of pace. He looked into the science of pet therapy and the specifics of having a dog as said therapeutic animal. It had to be done from a secret laptop to ensure Xan wouldn’t snoop; he already had too many hacked gadgets, even an old camera! At first, it had been mild interest but the more papers he read and explanations from credited sources, he became more and more invested. It was very a Hawthorne thing for him to do. But in the end, it did serve a purpose as he shifted from needing everything to be perfect.

    When he went home after working into the night at the office and he was too tired to properly function, he gladly scooped up the puppy and leaned his head against her neck as he fell asleep. He didn’t care that he shouldn’t need a cuddle buddy. He started keeping a bag of her favorite treats in a desk drawer and got a dog bed complete with a little pillow and the old swim athletics shirt. Grayson had realized his scent was still on the shirt since he hadn’t washed that one in a long time and she liked his smell so he let her have it. There was also a little basket with some toys wrapped in an old pillowcase but her favorite thing was still his slipper which he amended by getting a new pair so the other single slipper would be hers as well if she wanted. He even came up with a special secret nickname for her that he’d use when no one was around and used it indulgently; Misu. Funny enough, he found out that it was also a real thing, a Korean beverage made of grain powder.

    On sleepless nights, he would start telling her about his day which eventually led to him admitting his fears out loud and whispering his worst secrets in the dark. At first, he tried to refrain but when he forced him to say it, he felt better. It didn’t have to be this way anymore. He could have something better, something he wanted. And anyways, it wasn’t like Tiramisu was going to say anything but knowing that he could confess without fear of judgment or anyone knowing yet before he was ready to share, he felt relief. So much so that sometimes he could feel the sting of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but he’d swiped them away before they could become fully formed. He wasn’t there yet in his emotional acceptance. Long story short, since then, she’d become his closest confidante and as of the moment, favorite family member. 

    At some point in his mindless reminiscing, somebody had woken up. Grayson had been stroking her fur, letting his hand glide through the curls and when he once again reached the top of her head, he felt eyes on him. He turned his head and saw Tiramisu looking at him in that innocent way that dogs did when they were expecting something. He smiled. “Hi girl, did you sleep well?” 

    She butted her head against his palm gently as he stroked the side of her snout. Then, she got up and shook herself off before stepping over him and sniffed curiously at his neck and shoulders. He scratched her neck in response. 

    “We had some very rude intruders this morning, Misu. Wanna help me get back at them? You distract and I will set up cameras.”

    She licked his nose. He chuckled.

    “I’ll take that as a yes.”

A/N: Well, hope you enjoyed that. See you in the next one. But before I forget, I'm thinking of starting a tag list. Let me know if you want to be put on it for my next fic. Bye!

Bonus:

These were some earlier tries (don't even ask about the dozens of awful attempts which will stay there to purposefully haunt me) that were among my faves. Unfortunately, different AI generators either couldn't get Grayson to look like a young man WITHOUT a beard (they insisted that be a feature almost every time) or they messed up the chocolate brown of Tiramisu. Not to mention the extra limbs, eugh.

[sserajeans]

let's get this straight!

danielle marsh x fem! reader

synopsis: danielle is affectionate. y/n? even more. after months of confusion, danielle finally confronts her.

others + genre: 6th member reader, 05 liner reader, daerin bffs, y/n is literally over-affectionate to danielle ONLY, daniy/n being the same age plays in their dynamics (they banter more freely basically) + fluff!!

notes: requested, I TRIED TO MAKE IT AS LONG AS POSSIBLE BUT IDK WHY THE BRAIN ISN'T SLAYING.... I RLY HOPE U ENJOY.. idk why i never proofread....

danielle has always been known to be affectionate. the human depiction of sunshine in every single way possible. she just loves to love! and that goes especially for her members.

but you were a different case. if one would rate danielle’s affection a 10/10, you broke the scale. and much to your members’ dismay (just hanni and hyein’s), this scale-breaking affection was only directed to little ms sunshine herself.

and it’s not that danielle hated it, she could just never get used to it. someone being more affectionate and loving than her? why were you that doting with her anyways?

it drove her crazy thinking about it. she was always clingy with her members, never missing out a single opportunity to show her love for them, but when it’s you everything became a struggle.

haerin would know all about the toll your affection has taken on dani. she was her go-to whenever her head was full of you, and the younger always had one consistent response.

“she likes you, you like her. do me a favor and date.”

example 1:

whoever had the idea of watching a horror movie (hyein) was dead to you.

no one knew why watching a horror movie half of the group didn’t enjoy was a way to celebrate the release of attention’s music video, but no one could resist hyein. what hyein wants, hyein gets.

because now you were tucking your legs under your oversized hoodie, blanket covering most of your face, and all of it when a jumpscare came on screen.

and of course, because the star align in your favor, one final jumpscare had you jumping 1cm from the couch, and just your luck.

danielle was right beside you.

your arms wrapped around her frame almost immediately, and usually she’d shift a bit due to the sudden movement, but the moment she heard your mild shaking she felt so bad.

your head rested on between her neck and shoulder, eyes shut as you could still hear from the dialogue that the murder scene was definitely still playing.

she hated how you could read her so well, because the moment you realized her face was warming up since you were clinging onto her, a smug look on your face grew rapidly. suddenly the horror movie was forgotten.

“ohh… did i just make the danielle marsh blush?” you whispered carefully in english, making sure none of the other girls heard you.

you swore a smile flashed on her face before she replaced it with a very forced poker face.

“you wanna watch this movie alone?” she looked to her right, realizing hanni and hyein dozed off, haerin was on her phone, and minji left for “toilet issues”.

you playfully rolled your eyes before keeping your mouth shut, pulling yourself closer to danielle as the movie continued playing.

haerin had it all on video.

example 2:

the girls were in the salon getting their hair dyed and cut. it was a mixture of nervousness and excitement that filled the room, but more the former for danielle.

“unnie, there’s seriously nothing to worry about. you look nice with the new cut.” haerin stated as she stood up to replace danielle’s spot on the salon chair.

“it’s good! i’m just a bit worried… our fans always talk about our longer natural hair so i just hope they like this just as much…” the older muttered as she took haerin’s place on the couch behind the 3 salon chairs.

and right on cue, you walked in, hair wrapped in a towel as your hair stylist had just finished the final rinse before unveiling a blue color that complemented hanni’s purple very well.

you looked up from your phone, overhearing the previous conversation, and hanni (who had just finished her dye and cut) swore she saw your eyes double in size the moment they landed on danielle.

“hey… does your butt hurt? ‘cuz like that fall from heaven looked pr-”

“Y/N!”

“YOU LOOK SO GOOD?”

“...thank you.” her cheeks went up a shade of red, something you never fail to witness. she looked away, conveniently engrossed in a tiktok, before muttering once more. “kinda needed that…”

“i literally can’t breathe right now oh my god.” haerin laughed at the scene in front of her, waving her right hand in front of you to act as a fan blowing air. she’s always been the #1 daniy/n supporter.

“ohh y/n-unnie made dani-unnie so red!” hyein covered her mouth in the most dramatic way possible, to which danielle responded with a shove to her side. hyein made sure to never make her daniy/n comments when she was that close to the aussie ever again.

back to present day, danielle was having another freak out session with her free therapist, haerin.

“because WHY did she do that?!” she was rolling side to side on haerin’s bed, voice muffled by the pillow she covered her face with.

haerin chuckled at the sight of her best friend in distress.

for context, you were today’s ending fairy for OMG, and as the camera zoomed out, you dragged danielle (who was right beside you anyways), and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which left her extremely, super, very, red.

“oh! look at this! #TomatoDani trending #1 on twitter!” haerin pulled out her phone to scroll through the tag, and true enough, the timeline was full of your ending fairy clip, and no one failed to coo at dani’s reaction.

“you’re not helping!” danielle attempted to throw the pillow at haerin, only to fail completely, causing haerin to laugh even more.

“seriously just talk to her. if you actually don’t like it then tell her. she knows boundaries.”

“yes i know! i know that…”

“you kinda like it don’t you.”

“...”

“man i love being right.”

“it’s just so… frustrating!” danielle finally sat up to face haerin eye-to-eye. the cat-eyed girl was pre-occupied with her phone, but the older knew she was listening.

“expand?” haerin was really playing the therapist well right now.

“i just don’t understand, okay? i like how she makes me feel special and everything a-”

“okay so you like her.”

“let me finish…”

“right, sorry!

“and at this point yeah, i can say i like her. but i don’t wanna be the one falling for overly-affectionate straight girl.”

“who said unnie was straight?”

“she worships that harry styles poster like it’s jesus.”

“so does hanni-unnie?”

“that’s not my point!” danielle ruffled her hair with both her hands. who would’ve thought this little crush on you was so taxing.

“listen, you lose nothing if you talk about it with her.”

“what if i’ve been reading things wrong and it gets really embarrassing?” and just like that, danielle was back to crashing her face on another pillow.

“first of all, this is y/n-unnie we’re talking about. secondly, i’m like 99.9% sure she’s at least not straight.” haerin sighed, she just wanted her bed back.

“what if i’m that 0.1%-”

“TALK TO HER!”

haerin wasn’t angry, but danielle knew she was making a point when the younger raised her voice a bit. she begrudgingly left haerin’s room while the owner giving her a thumbs up for encouragement.

hesitantly, she knocked on the door of your shared bedroom with hanni.

“dani? come in!” you knew it was her. no one else knocked on doors that were already open halfway.

she walked in and sat on the foot of your bed, back facing you as you sat up from your previous position. “i don’t know how i’m supposed to talk to you like this you know.”

danielle turned halfway, not wanting to face you completely. something about doing so would make her feel 10x more nervous about the whole situation.

“anyways, what do you need me for?”

“y/ni’venoticedyou’reextraaffectionatetomeandireallylikeyousoiwaswonderingifyoudidtooorifthatwasjustyoubeinginasillygoofym-”

“WOAH! slow down please!” you stood up in surprise and moved to sit beside her.

she took a deep breath, gathering the courage to first, face you. “sorry about that…”

“no worries… could you repeat that?”

“okay! right, sure. so uhm, i know you’re quite affectionate with me. IDON’TMINDIT… by the way. in case you were worried about that.”

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you were relieved she was fine with it (after months of acting like she wasn’t), but also because now you had no idea as to where the conversation was headed.

“so uhm… yeah! i like you and i was wondering if you felt the same or if you were straight and joking around this whole time because it’s been messing with me, really, and haerin has been bugging me to talk to you about it just to get things cleared up.”

the moment she looked up from her rambling, she was greeted by a warm smile she grew to be comforted by, rather than flustered. you scratched your head briefly and looked away before chuckling a bit.

this tied a dozen knots in danielle’s stomach, because why weren’t you saying anything? but god that smile was so distracting...

“well, to get things straight, i’m not. and i honestly thought i made it clear…”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that i like you. i’m pretty sure i wouldn’t give a cheek kiss for someone i didn’t think of that way.” you looked up, pretending to be deep in thought. “i wouldn’t give up my umbrella on a heavy downpour either, or cut myself peeling crab.”

“right." never has danielle blushed this hard in her life. the heat made her feel dizzy at this point. "so whatever this is…?”

“it’s a mutual thing if that’s what you needed to know.” you leaned over slowly with a smile evident on your face. you fixed her hair carefully because some of her layers had gone out of place from her little vent session with haerin. and honestly, your gentle touch only drove her crazier.

“right, where do we go from here?”

“dating sounds really nice, no?”

“yeah, it does.” you both smiled, resting your forehead against hers with both of your eyes shut. it was an exhausting day.

you later found out the next morning that hanni (under hyein’s orders) left her phone to voice record for blackmail. why your roommate even listened to the maknae was beyond you.

[lifenconcepts]

KWAZII HEADCANONS !!

Has a habit of snacking on other people’s snacks, it began accidentally but soon just turned into a subconscious little trick. 

Keeps a little book of fun pirate stories and beasts by his bed. 

Probably puts stuff under his bed so there isn’t any space for a monster to reside down there.

Ends up being the one who always takes the leading characters in video games, or the ones that most consider ‘better’.

Has an irrational fear of losing.

Probably enjoys betting outrageous things on very unlikely scenarios, such as willing to give up the rest of his ear to prove he can ‘totally’ find a super rare species that toootally exists.

Occasionally wears ear mufflers to sleep better as his ears pick up on more sound than the others and he can’t sleep when it’s noisy.

Hears the hum and buzz of electrical machinery.

Enjoys dim lighting.

Purrs when content.

Has tried to learn many languages and gave up on all of them, but does recall a few occasional words here and there from the most obscure languages possible (both from existing and long extinct ones).

Has incredibly realistic dreams and often comes awake fully believing that what he just experienced was real life and tend to casually make references to them when talking to the crew.

Liked colouring books.

Fantasises about getting transported into a sci-fi world.

Likes to sit or lay down in incredibly strange ways and spots, often finding the most uncomfortable of place comfy and taking naps in positions that make him look passed out.

Is apologetic whenever he scares some skiddish creature with his pirate tales and tries to calm them down as best as he can, often being a bit sad he has to admit they they’re not real (because other than that he whole heartedly believes some of his stories, even if most of them are for show and to get a fun situation going).

Occasionally bites the rain.

Loves to feel different textures and at times brings a bunch of random things into his room just to feel the bumps and ridges on them, from drift wood, to especially cool rocks, to uninhabited shells.

Liked to pretend he can roar, despite knowing full well it can’t intimidate anyone.

Has a spirit box and at times likes to pretend he’s a ghost-hunter.

Sometimes sits in the middle of a room with his eyes closed as he focuses his entire attention on what he hears, ears moving around his head as he takes a mental picture of all the noise that is present around him.

Has on countless occasions taken a random stick from a beach and waved it about with an imaginary opponent like a sword.

Hates flashing lights.

Has at times licked himself clean (and barnacles).

Is a storm chaser and commonly begs the crew to let him go out in the Gup-B whenever a warning pops up on the storm tracker. 

Likes to drink (non alcoholic) alcohol.

Stretches at basically every single opportunity he gets, wether he gets up from somewhere, sits down, goes somewhere new, is all settled up, or is in the middle of an adventure.

Wears a bullet on a necklace from one of the adventures he and calico jack had.

Is proud of himself and tends to not apologise for being himself or happy but does know when he crosses a boundary and deals with it accordingly, usually knowing what things are out of bounds for what people.

Likes to eat with his paws.

Has cool waterproof pirate stickers he loves to stick everywhere he goes and practically no place above not under the sea is safe from his tomfoolery.

Loved to crack his knuckles and spine but is incredibly assertive about not doing the same to his neck as he worried he might snap himself dead that way.

Has atleast one missing tooth.

Secretly really wants a unicycle

P.S I won’t be making any age/sexuality/show related headcanons but rather stuff that fits their personality. ALSO THEY ALL HAVE AUTISM. ALSO THEY ALL HUM TUNES.

Source? I said so. I am litterally going off nothing from the show apart from the vibe :3

[holylulusworld]

I want love

Summary: Tony thinks he’s not worthy of love.

Written for @tonystarkbingo. Square filled for Round VII: Learning to be loved

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Post CW!Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: hurt & comfort, assurance, abandonment issues, mentions of depression (implied), PTSD (implied), angst

A/N: So, I’m Team Cap when it comes to CW, but this time I’ll show the other side of the coin.

Inspired by the song “I want love” by Elton John and its video starring RDJ. Lyrics in Italics taken from the song.

I Want Love I want love, but it's impossible  A man like me, so irresponsible  A man like me is dead in places  Other men feel liberated.

He stares out of the window again. A habit he had since the day at the airport. 

You don’t know what breaks him more, that his best friend got injured because he fought alongside him, or that his other friends are on the run thanks to him.

That day he came back to the penthouse, with a broken suit on his body, and Captain America’s shield in his hands.

He didn’t say a word. Only dropped the shield to the ground and stepped over it.

You had to help him out of the suit and tend his wounds.  

You sigh and place the tray with food on the table. Tony doesn’t react. He keeps on staring out of the window.

“Mr. Stark, you should eat something,” you step toward the window to place your hand on his shoulder. “Whatever is going on in your mind, your body needs food. If you don’t eat, I’ll feed you.”

“You’re an awful personal assistant,” he grunts but gives you a cracked smile when you stand next to him. “Something is coming, I can feel it in my bones.”

“Something or someone?” You question. “Good or evil?”

“Huh?” He dips his head to glance at you. “What do you mean with good or evil?”

“Well, can I buy a new car, or should I wait a little longer? I don’t want to lose another car to an invasion,” you smirk. “You remember the car your friends used to throw at that robot, right?”

“It was Thor, not me.” Tony points out. “Uh-and I offered redemption. You got the job, and a nice office.”

“Yeah, as you destroyed my office and apartment during Loki’s invasion,” you retort, wrinkling your nose.

“We’ve been through a lot together,” he states. “Since that first battle in New York City.”

“I remember the day vividly,” you nod slowly. “You ended up on my desk because one of the aliens threw you through the window of my building. You crashed my desk, taking me with you to protect me when the alien followed you inside the building.”

 “You wiggled out of my hold to get the fire extinguisher.” Tony flashes you a smile. “I thought, damn. That woman just attacked an alien using a fire extinguisher.”

“I distracted it long enough for your friend to kill it.” You grin. “It looked as surprised as you did.”

Tony frowns. The friend you are talking about is one of the people he forced to run. Steve Rogers. His friend. Captain America. A fallen hero thanks to Tony.

“Sorry. I know you don’t like talking about them,” you hastily say. It’s no secret Tony tries not to think about the friends he lost because he was too stubborn to admit he was in the wrong. 

“He made his decision, and I made mine,” he turns around to walk toward his desk. “Maybe we both made mistakes. But his friend killed my parents.”

“The winter soldier killed your parents,” you correct. “Sergeant Barnes was brainwashed and enslaved at that time. That’s what your friend tried to make you see.”

“You too?” Tony turns around to look at you. He shakes his head and drops his gaze. “You all think I drove the Avengers apart. I can see it in their eyes every day.”

“Who?”

“Every single person I met since Steve and the others are on the run. Not even Fury stayed in touch since Steve is gone,” Tony bitterly admits. “I’m the bad guy in this story.”

“Mr. Stark, you need to eat something,” you softly say. “Sit down and stop overthinking things. Captain Rogers is a grown man and a super-soldier, Agent Romanoff was trained to survive, Ms. Maximoff is so powerful even Gods will learn what fear means in her presence, and Mr. Wilson proved more than once that he can keep up with all of them.”

“Vision believes I don’t know that he sneaks out to meet up with Wanda. And Rhodes, he poorly hides that he keeps tabs on Steve and the others.” He plops down on his chair and hides his face in the palms of his hands.

“They used to be friends,” you gently run your fingers through Tony’s hair. “You don’t stop being friends only because someone tells you so. Even if it’s the government.”

“I just…” He closes his eyes and sighs deeply. 

How can he tell one of his employees how he feels since that day?

Steve Rogers, his friend, rammed his shield into his suit and Tony still doesn’t know if Steve only tried to stop him or wanted to kill him. 

Now the man he trusted with his life is on the run with his friend. The man killing Tony’s parents. It feels surreal to Tony that Captain America is wanted, and a man like him is still the hero to people.

“I just want things to be…”

“Boss, stop torturing yourself. What’s done is done,” you try to stop Tony from falling into depression again, or that the nightmares return. You’re not against holding Tony at night to calm him, but it’s not in your job description.

“Pepper left me because of my problems.” Tony continues. He sighs again. “Everyone just leaves me. Maybe they believe Steve would’ve been the better choice. They always saw the leader in him, not me. I was only the guy giving all the money to buy the shiny things they need.”

“We all just want to be loved, Mr. Stark,” you speak softly to your boss. “And we all get left once or twice in life. People get their hearts broken all the time. What matters is that we don’t shut people out.”

“I don’t think I can love again. I’m damaged goods. Who would want to love me? I got an arc reactor keeping me alive. I have flaws and issues. My mind is my worst enemy. Genius and crazy inventor at the same time.” 

You’re silent for a moment, but your fingers still run through his hair.

“Tony, you need to learn how to be loved. If you cannot open your heart to people again without fearing they’ll leave you, you’re going to end up alone, surrounded by twenty cats.”

I can't love, shot full of holes  Don't feel nothing, I just feel cold  Don't feel nothing, just old scars  Toughening up around my heart

Tony looks at the plate on his desk, filled with all the things he likes. His stomach is empty, but no food in the world can fill the emptiness inside of him. He feels hollow and unsure of how to proceed in the future.

You feel his hesitation, and move your hands to his shoulders, gently kneading the knots out. He relaxes under your touch. “One step after another, Mr. Stark. Everything is going to be better soon.”

“I want things to be simple again. Maybe it wasn’t too bad having meaningless encounters with women and allies. No feelings attached. A single warrior in the sheets and battle.”

But I want love, just a different kind  I want love, won't break me down  Won't brick me up, won't fence me in  I want a love, that don't mean a thing  That's the love I want, I want love

“Love and relationships to your conditions won’t work out,” you remind him and grip his shoulders a little tighter. “You know that. If you want people to trust and love you; you must do the first step sometimes.”

I want love on my own terms  After everything I've ever learned  Me, I carry too much baggage  Oh man I've seen so much traffic

“I trust you,” he leans in your touch, allowing you to move your hands to his arms. “You’re the only one left. The only one not asking me what happened between Cap and me.”

“There are always two sides of one coin. Right? No side is right, no side is in the wrong. Two opinions. Two opponents. No winner in the end.”

“I don’t want to end up with twenty cats.”

You chuckle. “I thought you like dogs more.”

“You know what I meant,” he whispers. “What if no one will ever be worthy of my trust again? What if everyone only ever leaves me in the end?”

“You should go home, Y/N,” Tony watches you run your hand over his chest. He had another fallout. In other words, nightmares about his parents’ death, and the fight between him and Steve. “You’ve got a life.”

“I got an apartment at the tower,” you tut. “It’s like one elevator ride away.” He relaxes under your touch. “Once in a while, you should let someone take care of you.”

“Hmm…” He turns his head to look at you. “I still remember how you yelled at me when Thor threw the car at Ultron.”

“I was pissed.”

“You were so angry, yet beautiful. In a scary way.” Tony flashes you a smile.

“I’m scary?”

“That’s all you heard?” He furrows his brows. “I said you are beautiful.”

“And you still owe me that car. It was a classic.”

“It was a Volvo.”

“Hey, I loved that car,” you argue. “It was reliable, and I loved Betsy.”

“You named her?”

“You name all of your AIs.”

“Touché,” he chuckles. “Still, it was a wreck. The new one I got you is much more reliable and prettier.”

“Maybe,” you lie next to Tony to stare up at the ceiling. “How bad will it be?”

“What do you mean?” He asks, watching you.

“Your hunch about something or someone coming. Do you think it’s going to be worse than Loki’s invasion?”

“Worse enough I got the phone Steve sent to me in my pocket all the time. I don’t know if he will answer, but I want to be prepared.”

You roll to your side to rest your head on his chest. Tony lets you. You are no stranger to finding hope and solace in each other. Not in a physical way, but in an emotional way.

“Well, you only know if you call him.” You close your eyes when Tony wraps his arms around you. 

While you cling to each other, another vision forces its way into your mind. This time it’s even worse.

Tears spill from your eyes when you must watch Tony fall, surrounded by his friends and allies.

“Worse…” you whisper as Tony drifts into sleep. “So much worse, Tony…”

But I want love, just a different kind I want love, won't break me down Won't brick me up, won't fence me in I want a love, that don't mean a thing That's the love I want, I want love

So bring it on, I've been bruised Don't give me love that's clean and smooth I'm ready for the rougher stuff No sweet romance, I've had enough

A man like me is dead in places Other men feel liberated

But I want love, just a different kind I want love, won't break me down Won't brick me up, won't fence me in I want a love, that don't mean a thing That's the love I want, I want love

I want love, just a different kind I want love, won't break me down Won't brick me up, won't fence me in I want a love, that don't mean a thing That's the love I want, I want love

[love-toxin]

This is golden. (Also I’m sorry this became long!!!) Angelface finding the group chat and deciding to up the ante though. Making the punishments fit the crime via teasing. Seeing how far they can go till someone makes a move on her. They wear shorter, more revealing outfits around the house, purposely turning their back, or bending over, or leaning onto the counter so their chest is squished up against their arms, and twisting their head for ages to talk to Steve, who’s trying desperately to not look at your perked out ass, long enough till you hear Robin putting her phone away after she ‘subtly’ takes a pic. Being much more ‘nosy’ to see what your roommates are doing on their phones, loving the panic that flashes across each of their faces like clockwork. Eddie literally throws his phone across the room that day. Makes sense, once you see the video taken during last nights slumber, he was uploading at the time.

Begging Steve for his special drinks, every night and day. Even after finishing one, you make sure to scoop your tongue so deeply around the cup, or the ice cream glass, getting some white whipped cream on your lips. Pulling needily on the hem of Steve’s shirt, while you beg him to make another one, because they just taste so good! And they make your tummy feel so full, for some reason. You read all his dirty little fantasies he posted, you always make sure to cup your tummy when swallowing his creations, more eagerly and noisily than before.

Asking Eddie if he can sleep in your bed tonight, and he obviously says yes, buying whatever excuse you give. You make sure to sleep in just your panties with your shirt. Cuddling up to Eddie by shuffling back closer, and being the little spoon, sitting your nearly bare ass on his thighs as you ask if this is okay. Smile facing the wall at the panicked way he says “yes!” Pretending to be ‘adjusting’ all night to get comfy, as you wriggle right into his crotch. Serves him right, how hard he has to try to not get noticeably hard. You also make sure to wear the tank top that lets your boobs roam free in your sleep, every single time.

Telling Robin you’ve got a bit of an oral fixation, making it sound like an innocent statement, for response to why now, you’re constantly randomly biting her out of nowhere. Just sinking your teeth into her shoulder, or her belly, or her arm, latching onto it and drooling around it. Mindlessly gnawing, or slobbering, for minutes. Stuffing your head deep into her lap, while you take her fingers and start nibbling on them too. You actually don’t even realise when you start sucking on them, clearly already part of your subconscious, until Robins rubbing her thighs, getting wet while you’re head is in her crotch, and you’re sucking her fingers. Having become her own Pavlovian response, that makes her want her fingers inside of her already. Her pussy leaking and throbbing, as you suckle warmly and wetly on her fingers in the quiet room. And she can’t move, because she’s scared of giving herself, and all of them, away

Asking Nancy to watch a movie with you in bed, and giving her a pillow to sit on because your ‘mattress is lumpy’. Putting on an almost porno movie though. As you watch her squirming, devolving into small humps against your pillow. She’s trying not to, but her hips just won’t stop rolling. And another day you give Nancy a very cute pout, asking if she can help you, only to tell her you think the dryers broken, because you put on your underwear and it was still wet. Pulling your skirt away to show her the panties you’re wearing, that you watched her rubbing herself in, and squirting through, in the video she shared with everyone but you that morning. You see her grab the table for relief, watching a professional smile rush across her face, smiling yourself because you get to watch your strong Nancy crumbling, as she promises she’ll get Steve to look at it for you. Leaving with a hand against her heart.

You make sure the punishments fit the crime. Until they get it, or they pounce

BROOOOOOOO I AM BITING THE TABLE!!!!!!! IM FUCKING FERAL RN UR BRAIN IS SO HUGE 😵‍💫😵‍💫💦💦💦 THROWING THEIR PHONES!!!! IM--

[epickiya722]

Every uber popular shonen series goes through this thing where they become basically inescapable for a long time, then, when the dust settles a little, people start hating and nitpicking it, until anyone who voices their enjoyment is made fun of, then an even longer while later, it becomes acceptable to like it again.

I noticed JJK is going through it bc there's this suddenly aggressive way of thinking of Yuji, and it always starts by hating the protag in some way.

And you know what? I agree.

It's a pet peeve of mine to see people constantly nitpick and nitpick and not say a single thing that they actually enjoy about the media they're engaging in.

It becomes even more irritating to me when people will throw out anything as a complaint when it doesn't make sense.

I won't say it's criticism because a lot of what people criticize comes off more as just being mean-spirited. They'll say "oh, this protagonist has a good heart and I don't like it". Like... if they're being portrayed as a hero who wants to do good then hello, they're going to have a good heart???

Maybe because a lot of protagonists are my favorite characters, but I really hate it when someone will hate on a protagonist because of whatever their reasons are and continuously doi it over and over and over again. It's like "damn, give the protagonist a chance to grow". If you can't, just drop the series.

And honestly, if you drop a series after one or two seasons, I don't think you should jump on someone's post to bash a character like "they didn't get character development". How would you know if you quit the anime? Shush. Just shush.

Like, with Yuji, someone in a video called him useless. Mind you, he said this on a video during the SHIBUYA INCIDENT. By then, we know what Yuji is capable of.

Useless? Yuji Itadori? The one who actually swallowed a cursed finger to save a kid he barely knew and his friends? Yuji Itadori who jumped Mahito with Nanami and not even a second later, saved Nanami from Mahito's domain? The same Yuji who tag teamed with Todo on Hanami and managed to learn Black Flash in moments and setting a record in that short time?

You're calling the Yuji Itadori who picked up Nobara to get her away from Eso and Kechizu and also worked 50/50 on taking them down?

Same Yuji who helped take down a veil? Same Yuji who fought Choso to slow him down so others could go and save Gojo? The same Yuji who boxed up Mahito?

I mean Yuji is even useful to Sukuna because without him, Sukuna would have still been just some lingering spirit until someone else came along and that could have taken YEARS.

So that's the Yuji being called "useless"?

Recently, someone told me that someone else was blaming Yuji for what happened to Nobara.

Look, Nobara is my girl, I adore her, she is everything to me. But Yuji was not the one to tell her to follow Mahito. (I get why she did though.) And I know she was in shock probably from seeing two Mahito's, but I would have moved before he could have touched my face.

I just... I just can't. I honestly can't find myself to interact with anyone who hates on Yuji. He doesn't have to be your favorite character, leaves more room for me and other Yuji fans.

But if you're really out here making stupid takes about him and hating on him, I cannot with you.

It's my biggest pet peeve with BNHA fans. I like other characters, I do, but I really despise those who hate on Midoriya. You can be a Miruko fan and say post something stupid about Midoriya and I will block you. And y'all know I love Miruko.

"He's a crybaby, he's too good, he's not badass."

Oh, but y'all were so quick to switch up when he was going through fucking depression even though there was three movies and five seasons of him doing nothing but great things, big and small.

I don't know if it's the lack of not opening eyes and really watching and reading the anime and manga. I don't know if it's because some people are just miserable and need to bother others because they don't like others having fun. I don't know what it is, but it's annoying.

Right now, I'm watching Bucchigiri?!

And Arajin, he's annoying to me, he is, I won't lie. But I'm giving him a chance for character development because hey, you never know. Same for Mahoro. I don't like her too much, but I'm giving her a chance and honestly, Arajin is just not taking the hints that she is not feeling him at all. The anime only has like 4 episodes right now, so it's nearly not done yet and I'm liking it, so I'm sticking around.

I rambled, sorry about that, but I just... I just can't sometimes...

[diangelofan]

Prompts: Video Games + First Job + Study Groups

For @drewtanakaweek's Riordan Flash Fic Fridays (707 words, got a little long and messy omg...)

This was Nico’s first job. He knew that, technically, he didn’t need to work a single day for the rest of his life, having Pluto as his father. He could literally go ask his dad for a infinite credit card. Is not like he hadn’t taken many from him before. Di Immortales, he still used Jules-Albert, the French zombie chauffeur Hades had gifted him for his birthday after the Second Titan War. Sue him, it was just much more convenient went he and his friends wanted to go out of Camp Jupiter and into the Mortal World for some really quick (to avoid encountering monsters) fun. Which wasn’t exactly achievable if he always fainted immediately after shadow travelling to where they wanted to go.

Thus, the French zombie chauffeur. However, pocket money was something else entirely. After the Second Giant War, in which Nico had found friendship (a concept before so foreign to him) in Praetors Jason and Reyna… oh, if someone had told him when he first enter Camp Jupiter that he would become close with the Praetors, Nico wouldn’t have believed it. Dam, if someone had told him that after he run away from Camp, he would had laughed and look at the person as if they were insane…

Regardless, he now had very persistent friends who cared for him and had been able to convince him that maybe staying at New Rome with them wouldn’t be that bad. However, Nico couldn’t spend all of his time with his busy praetor friends so, the year after the War, he started attending several study groups to get the education he severely lacked. He probably should had attended normal classes but, having not touched a school since he was 8 and that being more than 50 years ago, he would had been forced to start from Primary and he would rather fade into nothingness (which had almost happen before!) than learn next to little children (practically toddlers!). So study groups it was!

However, three years had come and go and, with the help of the other people at the study groups (specially one Annabeth Chase, daughter of Minerva, who was in charge of leading), he was finally up-to-date with his 21st Century peers (oh, what a headache delight). However, that left him with a huge hole in his days to fill or else die from boredom, which would greatly disappoint his father… he could already hear him saying “Son, of all the ways you can die, you chose this?” in his head over and over again… maybe he actually was saying it….

Agh, getting back to the topic at hand: so, when a Video Games store open at New Rome’s tiny mall, he went and applied for a job there. He had spent 80 years in the Lotus Casino playing every video game imaginable, so who better qualify for the job that him? Well, in all honesty there were probably tons of people (who this wouldn’t be their first job and who had at least actually gone to school), but for some chance of luck (or maybe the fact that nobody was interested) he was hired!

And it was great fun! Getting paid to geek talk about videogames with other people was the dream (even though, he was a bit useless regarding videogames released in the last 5 years, but no one is perfect, right?). Shelving could be a bit boring and helping customers could get difficult due to his social anxiety, but overall it was okay. His job was specially alright when a certain freckled blond son of Apollo visited, always browsing (spending a lot of time in the Mythomagic section!) but more often than not leaving empty handed. He was really cute. And he had once entered wearing a ‘Gaymer’ t-shirt! And he would sometimes smile, and on occasion wink, at Nico! And spend much more time than necessary at the register, asking him about his day (which wasn’t really that interesting to be honest)…

So, who knows, maybe this job would get him a boyfriend on top of pocket money (which had become such a excuse at this point, if it hadn’t always been one)… A boy could dream…

And, Gods, did Nico dream.

[industria-adastra]

[Genshin Impact] - The answer given by god, tastes like sand - Chapter one: Act V, scene ? (take ?) - [1/8]

Summary: In multiple timelines, Furina and Neuvillette always have this conversation. And in every single timeline, Neuvillette cannot understand, and cannot accept Furina’s answers. No matter how far back she falls into the abyss of time, Neuvillette thinks that she’ll never understand. - Or: In a world where witches and magical girls exist, to circumvent fate is to create a god out of love, and be left wanting.

--

Next

Note: I genderbent neuvi for this madoka au

-----

Their first conversation, perhaps a hundred thousand turns ago—when Neuvillette had been just some gangly teenage girl, unknowing of the horrors of the world—about it, went a little like this. 

-

In the comfort of Furina’s room, on her bed, they watched a recording of an opera. Neuvillette was sure it had been Turandot. Her memories of later times were fuzzy, but this timeline had always, and would always be, one of the clearest ones. 

Their legs tangled together, and Furina was warm against her skin. Neuvillette remembered being vaguely surprised that Furina didn’t put up as much of a fuss over her often cold feet touching her much warmer ones. But she also remembered being happy and content with Furina in her arms, enough so that she didn’t question why Furina didn’t try to act out an improvised dramatic comedy about the state of Neuvillette’s poor blood circulation. 

She remembered thinking that Furina’s new spur-of-the-moment hairstyle would surely be less likely to tangle between them as it’d often done before. She remembered the smell of petrichor and the smell of lilies, fresh tea, and cakes. So, only half-focused on the singing actors, Neuvillette soon found her attention drawn to the teardrop on Furina’s fingernail. 

Absent-mindedly, she unwrapped an arm from Furina’s waist to lift that hand, staring at the ring and the blue nail print.

“Hm? What are you doing, Neuvi?” 

“Furina,” Neuvillette suddenly said, prompting her to pause the ongoing video, setting the laptop aside.

“Yes?” Two-toned blue eyes turned to look at Neuvillette. “What is it?” 

“Could I ask you a question?”

For a brief moment, something unreadable had flashed across Furina’s face. But it left as quickly as it came, and Neuvillette had dismissed it as a mere trick of the mind. (Stupid of her to do so—it should’ve been the first sign of the injustice to come; the first sign that she’d taken everything in her life for granted.)

“Of course,” she smiled, as radiant as the sun, “You don’t have to ask for permission, silly. Whatever it is, ask away!”

“Then… If I may ask, why did you decide to become a magical girl?” Neuvillette gently placed down Furina’s hand, waiting for an answer. Furina, in turn, leaned further back against Neuvillette. Tilting her head upwards, Furina’s eyes—forever mesmerising blues—stared deeply into her own. 

“Mmm…” Furina mused as the silence dragged out for what felt like an eternity in seconds. “Well, this world… It’s a wonderful, beautiful place—so of course I’d protect it. If I have the power to do so, don’t you agree that I, too, should do my part?”

It was a simple answer—casual, expected. It told Neuvillette absolutely nothing at all. She liked to think that she knew Furina. As such, the lack of eager elaboration, and the lack of clear, substantive reasoning all told Neuvillette that there was something she was missing. Something was being withheld from her, and Neuvillette did not understand why. Were all these years of friendship not enough for them to be close enough to share such personal matters? Neuvillette wasn’t just a member of the audience, one of many in the adoring crowd. 

“We both know that this isn’t your true answer, Furina,” Neuvillette said in return, deciding to be honest with her thoughts. “Let me ask once more, and give me the truth, and only the truth. For what reason did you decide to become a magical girl?” Her hands cupped Furina’s face, gaze boring down upon her.

Neuvillette watched as her eyes darted to the side.

Then, she sighed, eyes closing as she did so. “Oh alright, you’ve caught me,” Furina said, shifting Neuvillette’s hands away from her face, straightening up on the bed. “I’ll give you a proper answer in just a second.” The space between them widened as Furina turned to face her directly. Yet only a few moments later, Furina then beckoned Neuvillette to come closer with a hand. So, Neuvillette followed it with not even a moment’s hesitation. Just as their shoulders were about to touch, Furina lightly tugged on her arm, silently asking Neuvillette to lean down.

Furina’s arm curled her head, lightly pushing it down further. The smell of lilies was all the more distinct now, so close to her neck.

“It’s because you’re a part of this world,” Furina whispered into her ear, a string of words said with a gravitas that Neuvillette never understood (even in the distant tomorrow of a hollow victory). Those words warmed her heart as much as they confused her.

“...Because of me?” Neuvillette questioned. Perhaps she had wanted more confirmation, or perhaps even the truth given freely did not feel quite so complete. Furina’s skill with words had always left her floundering in more ways than one. Why her specifically? Why not mention her large family, or even the recent friends they’d made? Why only her as a reason? Imperceptibly, her cheeks warmed.

Furina giggled, all previous tension now lost. Taking advantage of her shocked stillness, in the blink of an eye Furina was now behind her. In an unexpected display of magic, she’d conjured up a comb and untied the ribbon holding together Neuvillette’s long, long hair in that same moment. Confused as she was, Neuvillette simply let her continue with whatever it was Furina wished to do with her hair.

After minutes of silent combing, Furina suddenly said, “I want you to be able to experience this world, from the delightful to the depressing…” Placing down the comb, her fingers artfully braided Neuvillette’s hair. Her hands never wavered in braiding, even as she presumably searched for the correct words to continue that unfinished line. “To the fullest extent possible, no matter what. That day… I—” Her breath hitched, and then all was silent.

The sensation of Furina’s fingers braiding her hair was a comforting one as Neuvillette waited for her to continue speaking. There wasn’t too much pressure, nor were the strands braided so tightly that they pulled on her scalp. Time trickled away in her hands like fine sand, but as Furina had always said—no use rushing the process to only fall flat at the finishing line. 

“There,” said Furina, all of a sudden. The noise jolted Neuvillette out of her previous relaxed state. She blinked, quite sure her expression looked hilarious to Furina, judging from the muffled giggle. “Want to take a look?” She asked, emphasising the question with a wave of her handheld mirror. Just now’s conversation was also clearly over. But that was alright. There was always time to ask later anyway.

“Since it was you who did it, I’m sure that it’ll be as perfect as always.” Yet with that said, Neuvillette still reached out for the mirror, curling long fingers over Furina’s hand. Well, she did need to see it with her own eyes if she wanted to properly praise Furina’s efforts.

“Ever the flatterer, hm?” Without resisting, Furina let Neuvillette move the mirror this way and that, waving it in all directions to find the perfect viewing angle. 

“I’m being honest,” said Neuvillette, admittedly more focused on her current task.

“At least let me remove my hand first,” she huffed, yet made no move to extract her hand from Neuvillette’s firm grip. At those words, Neuvillette simply hummed in response, finally having seen all she needed of her newest updo. 

“I like the braiding pattern,” she said, setting the mirror down, and Furina’s hand free. This time, she was the one to lean back on the other. Furina, of course, supported her without a fuss, letting Neuvillette’s head slide down until it hit her lap. Now comfortably nestled between a pair of soft thighs, Neuvillette picked up the tail end of the braid. Gazing at the multicoloured teardrop gem attached to the new ribbon, she asked, “When did you get this? It reminds me of your eyes.”

“Just yesterday. It reminded me of you.” 

‘I… I see.” Involuntarily, heat rose to her cheeks. There was only one thing to do in response to such a gift. “I overheard some classmates discussing this new cafe—would you like to try their desserts together sometime?”

“Of course, my dear Levia.”

-

They never did get to go to that cafe. That had been the last time they’d ever got to truly enjoy each other’s company as they were in that timeline—the one that had started it all.

[starsinthenigth]

★haha DHMIS OC timeeee!!★

★character introduction:★

★CW: NON-CONSENTUAL PICTURE TAKING AND VIDEO TAKING, MENTIONS OF MISINFORMATION, MENTIONS OF VOMIT [IN THE LAST TAG]★

★This is Photy.★

★Photy, is an DHMIS OC, and he is a teacher to the trio and as you can probably guess already, he misinforms teaches the guys about 'photography'.★

____________________________________

★If he had his own episode he would..:★

★Snap a lot of pictures of the house during his stay, claiming that it's 'for memorization'★

★Takes a lot of video's of the trio without them knowing.★

★Would show the guys photos of his album★ until he would cross a photo from the actual world.

_______________________________________

★miscallenous:★

★Photy, owns a 'Photo-Album' which stores every single picture he has taken. He wears it on him all the time.★

owns photos of the actual world

★Everytime he blinks, a picture is snapped.★

★When he takes pictures of people, he always uses the 'flash effect', claiming that it makes the person in the photo look more 'special'.★

★If he had lyrics to a song, one of them would be: 🎶"When someone takes a picture of you it's a sign of affection, so don't show rejection!"🎶★

★The photos are printed from his ass/j★

★No, no they are actually printed from his mouth.★

___________________________________

★..yeah, that's all I can think for now.★

★this will be most likely updated, since it's just WIP for now.★

[aspenforest732]

Mortem ad Wrens Chapter 25: These Chains Our Consciences Wear

Summary:

tw: graphic depiction of being sold, torture, descriptions of a child as livestock, malnutrition, child abuse, violence, injuries, murder, blood, gore, corpses

Notes:

This chapter was unexpectedly difficult to write. Apparently at the time of originally posting, I didn't fully understand triggers lol this was definitely triggering That being said, this entire chapter is a graphic description of human trafficking. There’s a little fluff at the end, but if this is a chapter you need to skip because of the content warnings, there is a summary in the end notes, and there will also be one at the start of Chapter 26. The fluff starts at the linebreak followed by [END OF TRAFFICKING. START OF FLUFF] ‘text’ JSL or Morse code for this chapter text thoughts

Mortis followed the figure in a trance-like state, filing what they could on his quirk and demeanor into their analysis hall even as they memorized the streets and alleyways they took. After ten minutes, the figure walked into a wall and…

What the hell? He roughly tugged Mortis through without warning, their eyes growing wide as they saw a small safe house. Looking over their shoulder, Mortis saw a device attached to the wall next to where an opening had been made. They were quickly bound with rope before everything seemed to fold.

Everything sounded muffled and distorted as Mortis tried to take stock of what happened, vision a sea of blurry colors. Not a direct compression quirk, maybe one that literally folds?

Mortis shuddered at the unfolding process that dragged on for several seconds. Now inside a cramped room with about a dozen other children, Mortis took stock of the two cameras and single door. The others started whispering. A few had quirk suppressant cuffs, although they were much more worn.

“Hey, aren’t you from U.A.?” one of the younger girls asked. A few others started to perk up at the idea as Mortis nodded.

“You can’t talk, right?” one of the older kids tiredly walked up. At their nod, he asked, “Do you know Morse Code?”

‘Yes,’ Mortis blinked. ‘Heroes come.’

“Can you warp out of here?”

‘Maybe but illegal. How many here?’

“You make thirteen in this room, and they’ve been taking a few each day. Sometimes the Quirkless return with a quirk, but most never come back. There always seem to be three people taking kids, and everyone feels foggy when they’re taken. Those of us with strong quirks can’t see when we’re taken.”

Mortis nodded, ‘Fits my story. Buyers?’

None of the kids seemed to know who was buying, so Mortis sat down to wait. They learned each kid’s status, quirk, age, and name as well as small snippets about the traffickers’ quirks. What felt like a few hours after arriving, Mortis registered their pain flaring as their quirk started to burn fat.

Moments later, three armed men stormed in and dragged them out. Stumbling to their feet, Akira crinkled their nose to shake the tracker a bit. Once they felt a slight indent they stopped. One of their guards had purple gravity-defying hair, another had fangs, and the other had rippling muscles. Probably mental, blood, and unknown but physically strong quirks.

After several twists and turns through the complex, the group came to a thick metal door with a biometrics panel. Muscle spun them around so they couldn’t see what type of biometrics and soon after dragged them backwards into the room beyond. A bed, a desk piled with food, a camera on each wall, and a screen filled the room.

Muscle snapped their cuffs and left the room with a slam of the door. After a moment, the screen flashed to life with the four video feeds from the room, a chat window, and a countdown for 2 hours. Akira watched in morbid fascination as dozens of people joined the chat as they ate. With no way to interact with the screen, Akira simply ignored their audience while they could.

Once they were out of the danger zone for fat burning, Akira knocked on the walls every couple steps around the perimeter to check for thickness. Most they could warp to the other side of, although as smart as the group had been, it would probably be dangerous. No obvious signs of Tinker tech, but it could be interlaced in the walls. Wouldn’t want to waste energy trying to warp if there’s a draining element in play.

Once they were well-acquainted with the dimensions and thickness of the room, Akira settled into stretches while watching the chat feed. Most of the conversation centered around how much they ate in comparison to their body, although a few were curious about their quirk. Akira frowned. If they know who I am, why aren’t they broadcasting it? A U.A. student would be much more enticing than just some kid.

“Bidding will begin in 15 minutes for Akira Mori. Age 15. Quirk Silent Night. When they are about to be injured, they can warp up to 20 meters within line of sight.” A robotic voice monotoned from the screen. “A demonstration will be available once entry closes.”

Akira shuddered, remembering demonstrations at family gatherings. Hundreds of users were now in the chat making crude comments and asking about what would be available later that night. A few minutes before entry closed, bluejay302 and wildfire666 joined the chat.

Bidding slowly climbed and Lavender walked into the room as entry closed and the door with it. Akira raised an eyebrow at them sending a mental quirk first.

“Warp to the bed.” Lavender commanded and went to slap their face. Akira easily ducked under his arm, flipping the man on his back using his own momentum.

‘Make me,’ Akira smirked. They want a U.A. brat, I’ll show them a brat. Breathe, just remember to breathe. Little panic not big Panic.

As they danced back, Lavender’s hand brushed Akira’s ankle and their world became white noise of pain. Every nerve was on fire, and they felt every contraction of muscle as their nerves pulled them forward. After a moment, they felt Lavender’s control wane and Akira warped to the bed as their vision started to return.

Eyeing Lavender warily, Akira glanced at the screen to see the bids skyrocketing.

“A powerful and rare showing for your pleasure today, this specimen has much room to grow and can provide a flexible container for other quirks. This first year from U.A. has both theoretical and practical combat experience with a high pain tolerance since it withstood Mind Jack’s agonizing touch. You’ve seen older specimens lose consciousness from less time.”

Akira kept their distance from Mind Jack, stance low as they watched the screen like a hawk. After a few more feints, they saw bluejay302 increased the bid by 511 then 202. Mind Jack frowned as Akira heard his earpiece go off. He lunged for them, but they warped to the other side of the wall a breath before he dispelled their clone.

Akira and the ten villains froze as they caught sight of each other in the hallway. Akira surged forward first, warping to the end of the hallway as Scales breathed fire at them. They scrambled down the hallway and made their way to the route they’d taken from the holding room.  

Skidding around a corner, Mortis warped as they ran into a hulking figure, recognizing the task force as they appeared in the midst of a few police, Eraser and- ‘Fat Gum! D-didn’t know you’d b-be here.’ Mortis lit up. ‘This way t-to the kids.’

“Mori, are you injured?” Fat Gum asked as he matched their pace and Eraser continued to the bidding room with half the police.

‘I’m fine o-other than wide… widespread minor nerve d-damage,’ Mortis signed, angling slightly towards the hero so he could properly see.

“You’re seeing Recovery Girl after this regardless, so she should be able to help,” Fat Gum said, checking them over. “How many?”

‘Twelve o-other kids as o-of two hours ago, ages s-six to ten. Three have quirk s-suppressant cuffs o-on, the o-others are quirk… Quirkless or have weak quirks.’ Mortis gave a rundown of their abilities and minor injuries, mostly attributed to malnutrition and abuse.

“And why didn’t you tell me you were getting kidnapped?”

Mortis blinked, looking up at the hero in confusion. ‘It was o-only temporary. I had the best chance o-of getting o-out if some… something went wrong.’

Fat Gum just gave them a disappointed look before saying, “We’ll talk about this later.”

As Mortis tried to understand what could’ve provoked that reaction, they almost missed a figure stepping out of the wall. Mortis warped as elongated fangs sunk into their right shoulder, leaving angry tears in their shirt and flesh. Arm limp, Mortis narrowed their eyes at the figure who looked camouflaged against the wall. Without their knives, they couldn’t do much other than distract villains, so Mortis warped forward to scout a bit while their clone blocked the villain’s escape.

Realizing the route was empty or being emptied as guards ran to other areas, Mortis made their way back. After a couple minutes, their arm slowly regained feeling. Stepping into their clone, Mortis signed, ‘Way to the hold… holding room is mostly clear. Guards moving to o-other areas of compound. Hurry.’

The group started jogging, minds filled with why the traffickers were leaving their goods unprotected. As they rounded a corner into the hallway, Mortis saw the door ajar. They immediately warped inside, warping again to shove a villain away from the little girl who asked if they were from U.A. Whirling around, Mortis put themself between the muscular guard who took them to the bidding room and the child.

“Oh, now you’re here to protect them, ay?” The man sneered. “You really had those kids convinced-”

Mortis slammed an elbow into his nose, warping back as a blade skewered their clone. The man’s brow knitted in confusion as he saw them unharmed.

Blood pouring from his nose, Blade slowly grinned in realization as Mortis started maneuvering Kohana towards the door. “You’re not just a warper, are you?”

Surging forward, Mortis warped as the man tried to land a hit, narrowly hitting their clones each time. Just buy time. The others aren’t far. Just a few more seconds. Mortis looped in their head. As they dragged on, Mortis started landing blows to Blade’s back and kidneys, barely making a dent in the man’s stamina. Meanwhile, he got closer and closer to hitting them until he caught their side with a blade, scraping across their ribs as they warped next to Kohana.

Clutching their side, Mortis snarled at Blade and motioned for the girl to run. Kohana was frozen in place, though, looking up at them in terror. Shit. Mortis gave her a shove just as Blade shot out an arm, forcing them to redirect and warp, the blade catching their thigh as they were a hair too slow. Kohana finally dashed for the door, squeezing through just as Mortis rammed into the villain, throwing his aim off into the door instead of through the crack.

Just as they warped off to avoid being impaled, the door was thrown open and Fat Gum barreled through, startling Blade and giving Mortis the opportunity to warp to the few kids who were still bleeding, cautiously keeping an eye on the short fight as they checked for pulses.

As Fat Gum incapacitated the villain, Akira looked up and shook their head. ‘Took you… you long enough,’ they signed with a small smirk before their leg gave out.

“Mori!” Fat Gum rushed to their side, pulling out first aid and high-calorie protein bars. “Hang on, kid. We’ll get you out of here.”

‘No hospitals. I’m fine, barely more than f-flesh wounds,’ Akira signed as he wrapped the wounds. They carefully stood up, letting themself lean on Fat Gum’s arm a bit as they balanced. With a steadying breath, Akira took a step towards the corpses, pausing at a large hand on their arm. ‘They need to be checked,’ they signed weakly.

“The officers will do that. Most of the compound is clear, and there are other teams finishing.”

With a nod, Akira let Fat Gum lead them out of the compound, surprised but grateful that night had fallen. They gave their statement to the Detective, including the names of the children who were lost, while Recovery Girl and an EMT with a diagnostic quirk discussed options given the breadth of the damage.

Eraser looked exasperated at Fat Gum and Akira as he walked up from helping manage the villains. After speaking quietly with the massive hero, Eraser’s expression softened. “How are you holding up?”

Akira shrugged, ‘Nurse and EMT are figuring out what to do with me. Nothing too serious.’

Eraser snorted, “Your idea of serious is very different than normal, kid. You did good, though. Once you get patched up, remember you’re staying with me at least for tonight.”

“Next time you’re going to get kidnapped, you need to tell me,” Fat Gum chided.

Akira cocked their head with a hesitant smile, ‘I might not have a choice? Also, why?’

Fat Gum chuckled without much humor, “If you know you’re going to get kidnapped, tell me. How about that? And you’re one of my kids now, so you get to deal with Dadgum as the youngsters say.”

Akira snorted, remembering the younger vigilantes parroting that during their internship. ‘Sure. And that doesn’t really explain anything but okay.’ Akira shook their head in confusion, too tired from Recovery Girl and the day to dig deeper.

[END OF TRAFFICKING. START OF FLUFF]

On their way to Aizawa’s house, the hero asked, “Was warping without line of sight new?”

Akira tiredly shook their head. ‘It takes more energy and has a much shorter range, but I’ve been working on it for the past few weeks.’

“You should see Hound Dog this week.”

Akira nodded, loosely signing they’d scheduled it in advance.

Yamada and Hitoshi greeted the pair as they trudged into the house. Oboro, who’d taken a liking to Akira over the past couple months, immediately ran up to them and started rubbing against their uninjured leg to be picked up. Akira quietly did so and started petting the cat.

A veritable feast was laid out on the island and three pitchers of Akira’s shake. Akira cast a confused look to Aizawa. ‘It wasn’t even 24 hours. Is someone else coming?’

Aizawa softly smiled as someone knocked on the door. “Ah! You got here just before us, I see,” Taishiro ducked through the doorway followed closely by Amajiki. “Since Tamaki and I were in town for the raid, we thought it’d be nice to catch up.”

“Shiro, Tamaki! Good to see you out of uniform,” Yamada grinned. “Please, everyone help yourselves. There’s miso soup on the stove, takoyaki on the hot plate, and all the fixings for yakiniku you could want on the island. We also have green tea cookies and red bean cakes for later.”

Akira stared at the array of food on the island even after Hitoshi put a few selections on his plate and grabbed a small grill. What the… Akira hesitantly grabbed the same selection and a grill with their soup and sat between them and Amajiki.

Akira started with their soup, carefully watching the others turn on their mini grills as they tried to see where the switches were on their own. After a few minutes, they started theirs up, mirroring Hitoshi’s layout since Amajiki mostly got octopus and offal instead of chicken and beef with some vegetables.

“I’m glad you’ve been able to keep up with the nutrition plan, Mori,” Taishiro smiled as they flipped their skewers. “How’s the new job going?”

‘Good, it didn’t take much convincing since I primarily stick to the shadows,’ Akira signed. ‘Since it’s summer, I’m mostly using the drink recipes, but I don’t have to use my quirk as much.’

“Have you ever had yakiniku before?” Yamada asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Akira paused with a skewer halfway to their mouth, realizing with a glance the others were holding it like corn instead of a popsicle. They blushed, ‘Ah, no. I didn’t get to choose much of anything growing up.’

Hitoshi chuckled, “Is that why you just grabbed what I did? I didn’t even think about that.” At Akira’s nod, they explained the different preparations and sauces for yakiniku, Amajiki softly adding his thoughts on seafood, which seemed to be a less common option. Akira mostly just nodded along, filing away the information in their small kitchen area.

Akira’s head shot up as Taishiro mentioned he started an investigation with them. Catching his eye, they tapped one finger on their wrist and wobbled a second, arched finger next to it. Taishiro gave a slight, thoughtful nod as the other two adults looked confused and Hitoshi narrowed their eyes at Akira. Taishiro simply said he’d like to consult with Aizawa soon, as it was something he would be interested in. Yamada’s confusion turned into slight resignation as he glanced at Akira, who offered a small smile, softening their eyes into what they hoped was a flicker of interest.

People are so much harder than books, Akira mused. ‘How are you and Mirio doing?’ they asked after a time.

Amajiki turned beet red and mumbled “good” into his food with a soft, embarrassed smile.

“Ooh does the little listener have a crush?” Yamada squealed.

Aizawa sighed, “They’ve been dating since second year.”

Akira blushed as they noticed Hitoshi signing ‘Sun Eater, huh?’ Akira shooed them, glad Amajiki was still focused on his food.

Taishiro laughed before winking at Hitoshi. “I hear there might be another brooding goth and loud blonde couple this year…”

Hitoshi looked mortified as Aizawa slowly turned to them.

Bakugo, Aoyama… no. Akira stared at him. ‘Electric Rat? You’re into Electric Rat?’

Aizawa muttered something about the 1A talk but turned to Hitoshi with a sly grin, “If you’re going to date in the class, they’re not the worst loud blonde you could go with.”

Hitoshi buried his head in their hands. “You can’t just out me like that…” At Taishiro’s concerned, confused glance, Hitoshi waved him off. “Loud blonde, not sexuality. Dad and Pops are, well, obviously gay.”

A soft laugh came from Amajiki as Taishiro’s booming one echoed. “Aizawa tried to set me and Mirio up, too,” he softly admitted.

“And now you’re together,” Aizawa preened. “Loud blondes are perfect for emo introverts.”

Yamada covered his mouth, trying and failing to contain his giggles as Aizawa turned more serious. “We’re still having the shovel talk before you get serious.”

Hitoshi turned even redder and Yamada gave up on hiding his laughter as even Akira smiled a bit. Soon, Taishiro and Amajiki left to catch the last train to Esuha. As Akira retired to their room, it hit them that’s what they called it. They shook their head. Can’t get too attached. They’ll know soon enough.

Notes:

Summary: Akira’s taken to a secondary location where the traffickers are holding other children for auction or experimentation. They’re put up for online auction, but the heroes raid the facility. Only one other child survives. Akira promises to let Fat Gum know if they know they’re going to be kidnapped, and they have dinner with the Yamazawas, Fat Gum, and Amajiki. MiriTama and ShinKami confirmed. Error code 302 is Found (previously Moved Temporarily) in HTML codes. Also discovered 418 is I’m a Teapot. Figured I’d use actual codes instead of my favorite number for fun. 511 is Network Authentication Required, and 202 is Accepted.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#267

“Faggot, I asked you to come out here to for you to answer some questions. What were you doing in there?... No answer?... Ok. You were in that stall for at least half an hour. It is not a coincidence that there is a hole between the that stall and the one next to it. It’s clear that you were waiting for something to come through that hole. But you probably were not expecting my badge to flash you....

“This rest area shows up on a certain website telling faggots like yourself where to go to satisfy men. You have to realize that families come here, and we can’t have them being exposed to shit like that.

“Again, what were you doing in there?... And again, the silence. Look, I ain’t going to arrest you. I’m not even going to read you your rights. I just need to know if you were looking for a man to service….

“Ok. Since you aren’t talking, I’m going to be blunt here. We have cleaned up this place for a few years. Every once in a while, there is a surge in faggots looking to turn this place into a bathhouse. Some of us on the force feel that if we can redirect the activity to a different place, that it will be away from those that don’t want to see it. It will be a lot easier to control.

“So I’m going to tell you where you are going to next. Get back on the highway and go two exits back to where the two truck stops are. Between them is a truck mechanic garage. Tell them that Officer Ross sent you for the job opening. And no, I’m not Officer Ross. Whoever is there will take you around back. The old motel has been converted to essentially a whorehouse.

“You will be assigned a room, it will have a bed, a tiny bathroom, and that’s it. Your clothes and stuff will be taken from you for the time being. You will service every man that comes to your room regardless of whatever they want. Most just want a blow job. Some get more aggressive. Hell, my captain will even send certain ones of us over when he sees we need to let off some steam. Some will go over smack a faggot like you around before fucking it.

“It’s all in a controlled setting. Those that know, have a lot of fun. I want you to go there now. I know you are a local, so this will need to be ongoing for you. Now do you have anything to say?... Ok. So you know where to go, right?...

“Where the fuck are you going? I didn’t say go now. Faggot I did you a service. I’m not arresting you, I provide you with a place to go where you will get countless real men cock, and you were just going to walk away?

“Oh no, I need to get my nut. And faggot you are going to be the one who does it. We ain’t going to use that fucking glory hole. I hate those things. I am in control of every blowjob I get. Besides, my dick is too thick for that particular glory hole.

“Walk around back of the bathroom. Go! The assigned state worker is cleaning the toilets at the rest area on the other side of the highway. I have keys to the maintenance room. Go inside.

“See that cot over there. Strip and kneel in front of it facing me. I will turn this TV monitor on. You like porn? I love it. The maintenance guy has this one thing that gets him off. He likes hidden cam footage. Now watch. If you notice, this is that glory hole, but shot from the ceiling. He captures every single blow job. From this angle, we see faces and cocks, yet we don’t catch what happens on the toilet itself. So this will stand up in court.

“Look! There you are from earlier. You were sucking off that businessman. And here’s where you swallow. Here’s another video of you blowing that dad. His cock was huge, and you took it. Let me jump ahead to this truck driver who asked you to present your ass, which you did. Now, that is some smooth maneuvering to get your ass quickly lined up with his cock.

“We know the regulars that go to that hole. After a little background check, we know you can’t keep a job. I found it interesting that you have two priors for public sexual indecency, one in California and the other in Michigan, both coming from cruising bathrooms on the interstate.

“So if we wanted to arrest you, we would have. I know the judge, and you would have gone to jail for a long time. Instead, we are going to install you in that motel. And ‘install’ is the right word. There’s a basement where they put the really extreme faggots. That’s where you are going. You are a prime candidate. You’ll love it. Most of the clientele go there. Truckers, other officers, farmers, and so on. Men that needing of a good release. And the rooms are designed to be soundproof.

“You are chained up, but you can come and go. Most fags that get installed there don’t spend much time away. You’ll be paid a daily rate, probably better off than what you are making. Some fags just give in and essentially live there. A few go off with a client. The thing is you can never offer subpar service. Trust me on that.

“Now it’s time for me to get my nut. Let me show you the tree trunk that is going to split you in two. Thick, isn’t it? Wait until it gets fully hard. When it gets going, I can barely get my hand around it. It’s going in your ass. Lean over the cot and spread your legs. I don’t want a blow job. I want your tear open your ass.

“Open your mouth. This is the maintenance guy’s cum rag. He uses it to wipe up the loads left behind on the stall walls or the floor in the bathroom. We use it to gag fags. Take a deep breath faggot, cuz I’m cumming in. I don’t have time to strip, so don’t get any fag ass juices on my trousers.”

[tawaifeddiediaz]

when the world crumbles (bring me home)

That’s a longer title than I usually like but y’know what...it fit well here xD

[AO3 Link]

Word Count: 2905 words

He doesn’t even last a day.

His hands haven’t stopped trembling in the past twenty-four hours, flashes and sounds of gunshots and blood splatters and pain cracking through his skull flickering across his mind, and he can’t suck in a full breath.

He doesn’t last a single day.

Buck keeps seeing Eddie — keeps hearing the echo of Mitchell reading off Eddie’s address,  keeps hearing the heartless nonchalance of his voice. Nausea surges through his chest every time he thinks of Mitchell and Dominic knowing where Eddie lives, what Christopher looks like, and even if one of the two is dead, and the other is in custody, the fear doesn’t dissipate. 

He regrets not following Eddie quick enough, the other man already gone by the time Buck had put foot outside the hospital. He’d known that Eddie wasn’t thinking of anything beyond getting to Christopher as soon as he could, and for some reason, Buck had let the distance between them form a barrier that stopped him from making sure both of them were okay.

But he can’t do it anymore.

“Buck? Why didn’t you use your key?” Eddie asks as he swings the door open. 

Buck’s mouth opens but no sound comes out. Eddie’s dressed in lounge clothes — a white graphic T-shirt and grey sweatpants that feel too fucking casual after the events of yesterday — but Buck categorizes every inch of him that he can see, needing to make sure that he’s okay.

His gaze lands right where there’s a bullet scar underneath the worn fabric, from where Eddie’s blood had splattered all over Buck to the point where he can still see it, all these months later, caked in every crevice.

No matter how hard he scrubs, it doesn’t come out.

“Hey,” he finally croaks out, wincing at the sound of his own voice. 

Something passes over Eddie’s face and he leads Buck inside, sitting him down on the couch. He knows he needs to stop staring up at him, but he can’t — the ricochet of the bullet, the fear that nearly took his legs out from under him as he sprinted out of the hospital, nearly tripping over his own damn feet to make sure the asphalt stayed free of Eddie’s blood this time.

“Chris!” Eddie calls, plopping down next to him. “Can you come here for a minute, buddy?”  

Buck’s head whips towards Chris’ room, fully expecting the kid to be at school today. It’s a weekday, one of those days where they’d be on shift too, if they hadn’t gotten stuck; in someone else’s plans.

Again.

“Buck!” Chris yells out, falling into his arms in a whirlwind of bright laughter. Buck knows he’s probably clutching him too tight but he can’t get Mitchell’s words out of his fucking head.

Cute kid. Yours? I'm guessing he lives with you at 4995 South Bedford Street.

“H-hey buddy,” he chokes out, feeling tears prick at his eyes at the unabashed adoration in the way Christopher swings his arms around his neck. “What’re you doing at home today?”

“Dad says we’re playing hooky today,” Chris laughs, living his dream of skipping school. “I’m playing video games with my friends, but I had to come see you first.”

“Thanks for doing that, Chris,” Buck laughs, too far gone with relief to care about how wet the sound is.

Just go, or I'll shoot you. Or better yet, I shoot him. And then, I find his kid and I shoot him, too.

This kid — his favourite kid in the entire universe tied only with his niece — looks at him closely then, where Buck’s sure his eyes are glassy with tears. He can’t exactly turn it off, because he can feel the world crumbling around him in ruins and relief, built together, held together with the sheer force of the Diaz household. 

“You guys are so weird,” Christopher says softly, one little hand coming up to brush a stray tear away. The other probes curiously at the bandage Buck still hasn’t taken off — curling up at the edges from his shower and probably a single blow from falling off entirely.

He couldn’t be bothered to take it off, just to see the imprint of the gun on his forehead. He doesn’t want Chris to see the wound either.

Buck.

Worrying Christopher is one of the things Eddie hates doing, and Buck’s struck with the very likely possibility that Eddie hasn’t told Christopher about the hostage. Every part of him is so fucking glad that Eddie is such a good dad because he can’t see any of that going over well. 

He plays it safe, anyway. “Yeah, yeah we are.” 

Chris gets antsy after a few more minutes of Buck holding him tight, wiggling on his lap. Buck forces himself to let go of the kid, suddenly feeling cold down to his very toes.

“Come play games with me and my friends! No one will care if you lose.” He lowers his voice to a whisper-shout for the last part, mischief printed on his face. 

The familiar teasing thaws some of the ice in his bones, but he’s too raw to keep up a front for that long.

“That sounds amazing, Chris,” he says, plastering a smile on his face, “but I’m going to take a raincheck today, okay?”

Thank God for the understanding kid that Chris is, because he doesn’t push. 

“That’s okay, Buck. I hope you feel better, though.” Chris hugs him one more time before leaving the room.

Buck watches him go, and feels the wound on his forehead pang with the phantom memory of the gun striking it. 

Something in Eddie had snapped the minute Dominic had taken Christopher’s name — something Buck could feel without even looking at him. There had been a dangerous stillness to him, protective in its own right. Buck had no doubt that it was an anger that only came out of hearing Christopher threatened in anyway, a side of Eddie that came from pushing him over the brink.

Buck.

But something had leapt in Buck’s torso, too, and his traitorous tongue had jumped ahead of him before Eddie could say or do anything. The same thing that had broken into miniscule fragments at his feet with Eddie’s soft, one-word imploring for him to go.

The same thing that breaks in his ribs every time he thinks about the moment he had to leave Eddie alone in that ambulance.

A warm hand settles on Buck’s shoulder and he startles, having completely forgotten that Eddie was sitting behind him. “You okay?”

He tries to answer the question, tries to find a string of words and phrases adequate enough to tell his best friend what he’s feeling right now.

“No,” he settles on, staring blankly at his own fingers. It’s more honest than they’ve been in weeks. “No, Eddie, I’m not. And I know you aren’t either.”

Eddie doesn’t deny it.

He’s quiet as Buck subtly tries to press back into the dizzying familiarity of his hand, even as Eddie shifts closer so they both can stare blankly at the TV with their shoulders pressed together — a fragment of the past that Buck clings to, trying to stay afloat.

“I haven’t been okay for a long time,” Eddie says finally. “But yesterday…that was some fucked up shit. We didn’t sign up for any of that.”

Flashes of all the things they didn’t sign up for flutter across his mind in quick succession — the shooting, for some reason, stays at the front of his mind in technicolor. The emotionless shock, the pain reverberating in his scream, the slackness of Eddie’s expression — all of them are burned into Buck’s ribcage, each beat of his heart pressing directly against the memory.

He sees Eddie shoving the police officer off his shoulder yesterday, and wonders if the scar in his chest had started to ache. 

“No,” he whispers. “We didn’t. But it happened. And I can’t stop seeing all the ways it could’ve gone wrong.”

A humorless laugh leaves Eddie. “Any more ways it could’ve gone wrong, you mean.”

Buck hates that they have that distinction hanging between them.

Eddie gets up and disappears into the hall, coming back with a familiar blue plastic box. They’ve been in this position enough that Buck knows what he wants. He shifts forward so Eddie can stand directly in front of him; he doesn’t have the energy to protest that it’s just a cut, it doesn’t need anything more than a couple of days to heal.

Unlike the gaping emptiness in his stomach every time he thinks about staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Thanks,” Eddie says quietly as he peels the bandage off. “For sticking up for Chris.”

“You know I would do anything for that kid.”

Eddie’s words from what feels like a past life echo in his mind, and he fixes his gaze on the washed-out, faded pattern of his best friend’s T-shirt instead of his expression, too afraid that Eddie will read him down to his bones.

Gentle hands frame his chin and tilt it upwards anyway, and Buck’s forced to look at him, startling when the thin sheen in Eddie’s eyes matches that of his own.

“That is what I want for him.”

Buck doesn’t know if he’s ever going to be able to live up to the expectation and faith Eddie places in him, but he knows that if it comes without Eddie, he’s not sure he wants it. 

“I didn’t tell Christopher because I didn’t want him to worry about us.” An alcohol swab wipes over the cut, and Buck wonders if the repetitive motion is just for Eddie to keep his hands busy as he talks. “I came straight home and got into bed with him. I couldn’t even bring myself to go to the next room down because that would’ve been too far after…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Buck knows.

There were nights during Eddie’s recovery, where Buck would wake up only to find Eddie curled up on the ground outside Chris’ room with just a pillow to prop his injured shoulder up. Other days, Chris would be either sleeping next to an unassuming Eddie, or squished on the couch with Buck, even if he had started the night out in his own bed.

There were even days where Eddie had come out in the middle of the night to take a seat on the ground in front of the couch, his head tipped back to share Buck’s pillow.

Eddie taking comfort in his presence the same way Buck took comfort in his was something that had snaked around his ribs and burrowed into the deepest corner of his heart, a conviction private for him to draw on. 

The nights after Buck went back to his loft were the roughest because he’d gotten in the habit of having Eddie and Chris right with him if he woke up for a nightmare. It helped to have someone close like that — especially the person featuring in all the nightmares. 

Learning that Eddie sought the physical proof of his son being okay wasn’t surprising at all.

“You looked like you could’ve killed him with just a glare,” Buck observes. Eddie pulls a bandage out of the first aid box and carefully places it over the cut, smoothing down the sticky edges.

“I couldn’t risk you,” Eddie reveals quietly. “Things would’ve probably gone differently if your life wasn’t on the line.”

Something in his heart shatters as he listens to Eddie's admission.

But that’s the thing — for most of it, Buck was a sitting duck with the police while Eddie was stuck in a cramped metal box with Dominic. If anyone’s life had been on the line, it was Eddie’s — not his.

“When I heard the shot…” Buck curls his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, pulling it away from his forehead for a second, needing him to listen. The pulse under his fingertips is steady, reaching for Buck with each beat. “When I heard the shot, I thought that the last time I was going to see you was in the back of a fucking ambulance with a gun to your head. I can’t tell you what thoughts went through my mind–”

The ricochet sounds in Buck’s head again, triggering his tears and closing his throat. Before he knows it, the last anchor keeping him even the slightest bit sane snaps, and a sob wrangles its way out of his throat.

“Buck.” Eddie’s expression crumples, and through his blurry vision, Buck sees a tear make its way down his partner’s face, too.

“Too soon,” he gasps out as Eddie’s arms come around him, standing as he is. Buck rolls his lip into his mouth to stifle the wrecked sounds that threaten to escape him, but keeps himself close to Eddie, relishing in the warmth of his skin and steady rhythm of his heart. “I thought I lost you. Again .”

Tears drip steadily into his hair as his own press stains into Eddie’s T-shirt, and the image of Eddie crying only makes the dam inside Buck flood even more. How far have they been pushed to break down like this?

He balls his fists up in Eddie’s shirt, tries to not take more than what Eddie’s given, and counts. 

He counts each tear beading off his waterline, counts each of Eddie’s tears falling soundlessly on the crown of his head. He counts each shaky rattle of Eddie’s chest as it expands to hold his emotion, counts each heart beat that pounds against where Buck’s forehead is pressed. 

He counts each minute they stay locked like this, until their tears finally slow.

“It’s not fair,” Buck says when they pull away, tipping backwards to stare at the overhead light as if that could burn the salt from his face. He feels less like he’s about to burst, now that it’s all in the open, but the ache in his chest has only deepened. “It’s just not.”

“I know.” In his peripheral vision, Buck sees Eddie scrub a hand down his blotchy face, eyes rimmed red and nose a bright red. He knows he probably looks just as horrendous — if not more. “But it happened, and we’ll have to learn to live with it.”

“No more pushing things down, huh?” 

Eddie laughs wetly, plucking a tissue from the side table and passing it to Buck, flopping down next to Buck. “Not after you just got snot and tears all over my T-shirt.” 

The quip brings a much needed levity to the room, and despite himself, Buck laughs, too. “Tell that to my hair.”

“Crying helped, weirdly enough,” Eddie says, bumping a knee against Buck’s as he tosses the first-aid kit back on the coffee table. 

It’s so much like them before the shooting that Buck almost starts crying again.

In races, hurdles are always placed a certain distance apart so the runner doesn’t trip and fall over them. Being taken hostage feels like a hurdle that was placed too close after the first one, and it’s not going to be easy to learn how to jump over it.

Eddie’s expression flickers rapidly from one emotion to the next when Buck finally turns to look at him. Buck feels stripped open just from one look, more vulnerable than he’s ever been when Eddie speaks again. “I’m okay, and you’re okay. And Chris is safe and won’t get hurt. We’re okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah we are.” He commits the words to memory. 

We’re okay.

“You can come by any time, you know that,” Eddie says softly. “I don’t care when, just use your key.”

It's just like Eddie to offer as freely as he does, but Buck’s no less. “And you?”

He smiles unexpectedly, bright and uninhibited even with the redness of his eyes. “If you hadn’t come here, I was going to call you anyway. That’s all I need.”

Buck knows what it would’ve cost Eddie to say that, to confess to needing someone, even if it’s not in as many words.

The fact that it’s him Eddie needs lights a flame of pride in his chest.

“Well, that was a lot. You hungry?” Eddie asks after a stretch of silence, eyes kind and inviting. He stands and disappears into the kitchen.

Buck laughs to himself, following him. “Not if you’re cooking. We’re only just okay again.”

Eddie flips him off, and just like that, order is restored to his world again.

We’re okay.

Saying it out loud does help, because a large part of his brain — the same part that was logging each of Eddie’s breaths a few minutes ago — doesn’t believe that they got out of there. A part of him is still stuck in the hospital, listening to the gunshot on a loop, watching nurses run past him in the opposite direction. A part of him is still stuck on a main road, watching Eddie bleed out.

But like this, being seen for it in one of the only places that have ever made Buck feel safe, he thinks they’ll be alright. One day, he’ll look at Eddie and not hear the sound of a bullet disengaging, and one day, Eddie will look at his son and not hear Dominic’s words reverberate like an echo chamber.

Buck watches Eddie slice vegetables and smiles.

That’ll be one day — but for now, this hope is enough.

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 1)

Ben Drowned

You had promised, sworn on your very life, that you wouldn’t laugh. It was an oath. One to be taken very seriously.

“Using your hand to muffle the sound still counts as laughing.”

Part of you felt really bad but that made you snicker even harder. Your best friend, at the very least, did appear extremely shaken about the entire thing. She sat on the edge of the couch with her arms crossed. Dark bags had formed beneath her eyes and her attention seemed unable to stray from the Nintendo 64 that sat between you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “But you have to understand how this sounds. You’re telling me that you’re being haunted by a literal video game.”

She pulled her legs to her chest. The amount of weight that she had lost recently couldn’t possibly be healthy. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Have you considered talking to a psychiatrist?” you offered. “Or perhaps selling this game?”

“He would kill me.”

You picked up the Nintendo 64 and stared at the main menu of the game. It looked pretty normal to you. You fiddled around with the settings to turn the music down. “I really think that talking to somebody about this would help.”

“That’s what you don’t understand,” she said. “I want to stop playing. I want to speak to people but all that he wants is for me to continue trying to beat the game. There’s no way to win! The entire thing is rigged!”

“Have you looked up a guide?”

She groaned. “Nobody’s going to listen to me.”

An awkward silence fell over the room and you shifted around in your seat before offering some coffee. She accepted but the kettle had barely been boiling for a few seconds when her phone chimed happily.

“Oh look, he wants to play now,” she muttered. She thrust the device to you. “Take a look for yourself.”

The notification had come through an app called CleverBot. It was a very simple ‘hi’ message that didn’t really seem all too haunting. You opened it up and clicked around the app for a little. “Looks like just a chatroom,” you said. “Why’d you download this?”

“I didn’t. I just woke up the one day and it was on my phone.”

You closed the app and returned to the home screen. It immediately reopened and the same message popped up again. An identical thing happened the second time. And then again.

“This looks like a virus,” you said. “It’s probably best to uninstall.”

Clicking on the button made the icon disappear for a short while but it was quick to reappear. This time, when the chatroom opened itself, the message had changed to simply say ‘rude’.

You pursed your lips. That was suspicious enough for you to understand her potential worries. “I don’t think that it’s haunted but you should probably take it to a professional to have it wiped or something. And maybe consider less porn in the future?”

Your joke fell flat but it died when the chatbot began typing. Not too long after, another message had come through.

‘I don’t hang out in such places.’

“Can…” you trailed off. “No, there’s no way that they’ve hacked the microphone, right?”

‘Don’t need to hack in to hear what you’re saying.’

The colour drained from your face and you quickly glanced towards your friend. She didn’t seem panicked, even when you showed her the message. If anything, her expression was resigned as though this was a regular occurrence.

You didn’t get too much time to respond when a horrible static sound came through her phone. The screen began flashing and blurry images raced across it. A distorted version of the Majora’s Mask theme song started playing. It felt like your ears were bleeding. Scared, you threw the phone to the floor and, with a shattering crack, everything stopped.

For a while, you stared at it but then she said, “He’s going to be pissed with that.”

There was a chime from somewhere on your right. Your own phone’s screen lit up. Nervously, you reached over to check on it.

A single notification stood there, from an app called CleverBot.

‘You Shouldn’t Have Done That.”

Bloody Painter

The park was busy this time of day and filled with an awaiting audience – whether they were interested in watching the performance or not. Many seemed to appreciate it though, taking the flyers handed out by your group.

It was nearing midday when you ran out of pamphlets. You stretched and pushed your hair away from your face, relishing in the feeling of sun against skin.

Your gaze drifted across the park’s patrons before settling on one that you had been watching since the beginning of your performance. He didn’t look up much. A sketchpad sat on his lap and tousled brown hair hung over his face. You hadn’t caught his attention once but he had certainly kept yours.

“Can you hand me another lot of flyers?” you asked one of the other girls with her.

She handed them over and you put on your best grin before making your way to the tree he was sitting under.

He looked up when your shadow fell over his sketchbook. His work was considerably abstract and nothing that you could identify with ease. There weren’t too many colors though.

“Hello!” you greeted cheerily. “I don’t mean to bother but what did you think of the show?”

He blinked up at you. “I didn’t see it.”

The man was a master of deadpan but you didn’t allow your smile to drop. You lowered the flyer and sighed, “That’s a shame. It’s so rare that we have attractive people at our shows… you should consider coming to our actual performances sometime. Everybody loves musicals.”

He didn’t even react to the compliment. No smirk or even a blush. It was as though you hadn’t spoken one word.

“I’ve seen your face before,” he said. “You do this kind of thing quite often. Don’t you get tired of people staring at you?”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t be in this line of business if I was too self-conscious. When they stare for too long, I like to imagine that it’s because I’m the most beautiful person they’ve ever seen.” Running your fingers through your hair, you offered him your most dazzling smile. “And if you remember me, that’s a certain compliment.”

“You can take it whatever way you want but it doesn’t mean anything.”

It was tempting to give up. Flirting with cute boys was only entertaining when they responded with… something. This boy just stared.

“So you’re an artist, right? You’d have a good point of view on whether or not I’m actually pretty.”

“My opinions on people are rarely accurate.”

His response made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. Something of a warning twisted in your stomach. A light had lit behind his eyes but it didn’t seem like something you wanted to tie yourself to.

It appeared it was time to give up your pursuit. “Well, I really should get going. Perhaps I’ll see you at the next performance.”

His eyes drifted to the pamphlet that you held. “Were you planning on giving me that?”

“Offering it but you don’t have to –“

“I’ll take it,” he said, putting down his pencil and holding out his hand. “Your show wasn’t too entertaining but I enjoyed watching the performance you just put on. Rather like a peacock strutting its feathers.”

So he wasn’t oblivious then… just teasing. You had no idea if it showed his genuine interest or if he was merely taunting now.

With a slight scowl, you passed it over. He tucked it into his sketchbook and then closed it, standing up. He was scrawnier than you had anticipated but he still had a considerable height – holding at least a few inches over you.

“Thank you,” you said.

He left without another word. You rolled your eyes and made a point to ignore any thoughts about him for the rest of the day. Perhaps you shouldn’t have given him your information… after all, that flyer had your full name and everything.

And you knew absolutely nothing about him.

Candy Pop

Hospitals were the worst places in the world.

They smelled too clean and looked too false. You generally avoided them as much as possible unless it was absolutely necessary. When a close family member found themselves locked within the walls, unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to stay away.

You wrinkled your nose as you walked into the room. The sterilized smell burnt you.

Most of it was what you had expected but the young, child-like scream made you jump and nearly drop every gift you were holding.

Your aunt jumped up from her chair beside the hospital bed. “What’s wrong?!” she asked, fussing over your cousin.

She was barely over eleven and had badly injured her leg during a biking competition. Your mom had told you that everybody in the family was going to visit her, encouraging you to go together in order to drop off some gifts.

“I’m sorry,” the little girl said quickly. “I don’t like balloons and I thought… it doesn’t matter. Sorry.”

You moved them behind you a little, trying to block her line of sight. “No, no, I should have asked first. You could have been allergic to latex or something and then I’d be feeling really bad about it.”

“She’s been particularly on edge thanks to these awful nightmares,” your aunt explained.

“Nightmares?” you asked.

The little girl seemed pale at its mention, pulling her blanket up to her nose and watching everybody wearily. “They’re just bad dreams,” she said. “You said that they couldn’t hurt me.”

Her mother hurriedly rubbed her shoulder and offered a warm smile. “They definitely can’t,” she reassured.

“Are they about the fall?” you asked.

“Sometimes.”

You settled down in one of the chairs as your own mother began speaking to her sister. They were able to discuss everything from the colour of grass to what they thought would be the best country to live in. You weren’t particularly interested in what they were saying and, after a while of trying to chirp in, you just let the lack of sleep catch up to you.

Your dreams came to you quickly, faster than usual and sharp in an uncomfortable sort of way.

You found yourself standing in a large field. The sky was grey and the grass tall enough to reach your knees. Everything felt bright. It hurt your eyes to stare at anything for too long.

Normally, dreams didn’t feel as such, but you were certain that this was one. There was no purpose to where you were. No inclination to walk in a specific direction or try to understand what was happening.

Just confusion.

You took a step forward and a soft wind wrapped around you. It brushed through the grass, dancing around the trees. Something was watching.

You turned and two, glowing lights floated above the ground.

Slowly, mist gathered around the two spots. As you stepped back, it began to solidify – quickly forming a more recognisable shape. The figure tilted its head to the side and a slight jingling sound filled the air. It stepped forward then and the glow faded from its eyes, revealing just what stood before you.

He was a jester, though certainly more modern than the old king’s versions. Blue hair hung around his shoulders and his entire outfit jingled with hundreds of bells. A smile graced his face and he stepped forward.

You moved away.

His smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. The mist appeared again and he vanished into it.

You looked around frantically. He was gone. The wind picked up unexpectedly, howling in your ears. You raised your hands to shield your face and something grabbed your wrist. Before you could turn to see, you hurdled away from the meadow and awoke spluttering for air.

“Are you alright?” your aunt asked.

In the corner of your eye, you swore you saw a blue jester but, when you turned to look, he was gone. “Yeah,” you said, rubbing your chest. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Your made eye contact with your cousin and swallowed thickly. The look on her face said it all.

Clockwork

Every night, without fail, you saw her sitting there when you arrived home from work.

She always wore the same thing and, initially, you had thought that she would play on her phone for hours at a time. It didn’t appear that she had a phone, however, as you came to realise. Whatever she was holding was circular and fit perfectly within the palm of her hand.

You mentioned it to the building manager the second time she was there until like two in the morning. He had said that they thought she was homeless but, as far as they could tell, she wasn’t dangerous. You reassured him that your worries weren’t about her presence due to any perceived problem but he had just nodded.

She never moved while she was waiting. Not even to adjust her weight or brush the hair from her face.

A few of your neighbours used the very eloquent reasoning that she was merely crazy.

Occasionally, you heard children from the area parroting their parents. Rumours abound that she was a ghost who would attack anybody if they spoke to her. You scoffed each time it was said but many believed the stories.

You were arriving home late one night when you spotted her sitting in the usual spot. It was strange for you to feel anything beyond exhaustion on the nights when hospital jobs ran too long but this time, a strange anticipation settled itself in your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Are you okay?”

Her hair was dirty and her coat looked as though it hadn’t been washed for years. Now that you were close, you could make out what appeared to be dried blood on her shirt.

“Go away,” she said, shaking her head from side to side.

“I have medical experience,” you responded. “And I know some good places to stay in the area. I can –“

“Good for you,” she sneered. “Leave me alone. You’re going to make me miss it.”

The object she was holding was an old pocket watch. It looked like something you would find in an antique store and pay insane amounts of money for. Though, it didn’t appear to be working. The clock hands sat at a set time and didn’t move in the slightest.

“I want to help you if that’s okay,” you said.

She forced out a laugh that sounded as though it physically pained her. “You want to help me?!” she cackled, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Isn’t that sweet.”

You stumbled away from her and clasped a hand over your mouth. Her face…

Her mouth was torn to pieces, jagged cuts that ripped through the skin there and had been crudely stitched back together. But that wasn’t the worst. No, the worst part of it was her left eye that had a pocket watch shoved into the socket and forcefully stitched there. The injury flared red with infection and pain.

“What’s wrong little doctor?!” she cawed. “No longer feeling like saving the poor girl you found on the side of the road?”

You steeled your resolve and straightened. “I’m still willing to offer help if you need it,” you said in your strongest voice. “That injury is severe and needs attending to if you want to save the eye.”

The eye was definitely gone and she knew it as well, scoffing at your offer. “No chance of that. Why do you people like pretending that you care?”

“I do care.”

She responded with a mocking expression and stood unexpectedly. “Sure you do.” She tapped the front of the pocket watch with her nail. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get to work. I nearly missed it thanks to your nagging. I’ll see you tomorrow, doctor.”

And she marched off into the night.

Dark Link

The vase that you were holding was beautifully polished and almost brand new. As you lifted it, something rattled around within.

“Why are you selling this for such a low price?” you asked.

The woman was middle-aged with a falsely high voice and bright, darting eyes. “It was a gift,” she said. “But I decided against keeping it. I wasn’t sure how low the price should be but it’s not like I’m losing any money.”

You decided against buying it, thanking her and walking away quickly. While you were looking through a few pieces of jewelry, your arm was grabbed and a small object pushed into your chest.

“Here you go!” you friend chimed. “Consider it to be a late birthday present!”

You took the game cartridge and examined it closely. “Zelda, again?” you asked. “I’ve already tell you that –“

“Yes, yes, I know that they’re not your thing but if you haven’t tried all the games then how are you meant to know there isn’t just one that you like?”

Sighing, you took the game and dropped it into your purse. It was dirty and definitely well used. A bit of black paint flaked off on your fingers.

Another game for you to keep in your cupboard and not look at again until months later when you were asked about your opinion on it. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t have the console you needed and the simple answer of ‘just buy one for cheap’ wasn’t always available.

But in the coming weeks, you quickly realised that this wasn’t just another game.

At first, the things that went wrong were too minor to even pay attention to. Electronics started breaking frequently until the point where you had replaced your stereo twice in a week and no longer had a television. After that, you started feeling sickly and uncomfortable whenever you were in the house. A feeling of imposing nature settled upon your shoulders.

You spent more time away from home, staying away for as long as you could. When you tried to dogsit for your brother, the pup wouldn’t even enter the house.

It was late at night when you woke up in a cold sweat. Nausea coiled in your stomach and your heart was beating at the speed of light.

At first, you had no idea what had woken you.

And then you heard the rattling.

It was coming from the next room over. As though somebody had taken hold of your desk and was shaking it as roughly as they could.

You scrambled for your phone but it wasn’t there. It was sitting in your office.

You took a deep breath and slowly stepped from your bed. Your head felt fuzzy, as though you weren’t able to wake up properly. Every step was slow and lethargic.

Stumbling toward the door, you gingerly grabbed the handle. As you opened it, your mind caught up with your body and you remembered that you shouldn’t just burst in on a potential invader.

But it was too late.

The person, for it had to be a person, stood in the middle of the room. Its body was so dark that it blended in with the shadows surrounding it. Two bright red eyes shone, illuminating enough that it showed some of the creatures ashen features. It had sharp features that were definitely human. Though as you stared at it, you knew that it was anything but.

It smiled and began turning into small squares, pixelating into the air and disappearing into something behind it.

You flicked on the light as fast as you could but it was gone. Sitting in the middle of the desk, the black cartridge seemed to emit its own darkness.

Dr. Smiley

The building was beyond restoration, crumbling and derelict. You were sure that it hadn’t been occupied for at least a decade. Perhaps even longer.

For months now, you had been going through the motions to have everything approved and organised. You had gotten clearance, hired the workers, discussed things with any neighbours, and even paid extra for the best machinery to get everything done quicker.

And now they were refusing to do anything.

“I’m sorry, and I will compensate for the time wasted, but my men are saying no,” the on-site manager said. “I know you’re not from these parts but we’ve always known there’s something wrong with this building. Rumours and superstitions abound and I wouldn’t blame my men for not wanting to anger a ghost.”

“They’ll be pissing off something far worse than a ‘ghost’ if they continue refusing to even go in there,” you snapped.

He glanced towards his workers and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once he left, you turned your attention to the house. Why anybody would have wanted a house in this location was beyond you but now that you had inherited it, you could see potential.

Although the entire place was probably crawling with all manners of disgusting flora.

Perhaps you could use that to get the health counsel to do the job for you.

They will still talking and you could see the weariness on their faces. Sighing, you stalked your way to the front door and pushed it open with one hand. It creaked with the effort.

You stood with your hands out towards the men. “I’m going to walk this entire house!” you called. “And if your ghost doesn’t accost me while I’m there, then I’m going to be expecting you to all get on with it, alright?”

Nothing immediately jumped at you when you entered. The door struggled to open and it swung shut on its own accord. If that was the haunting that they were talking about…

A roach skittered along the floor in front of you, darting under a derelict sofa stained with an unknown substance. Several of the windows had been broken so it wasn’t surprising to find that graffiti and markers had been used to etch various names into the walls.

You walked through a destroyed kitchen, passed a bedroom with a smashed crib, and even kicked open a door that led to a filthy storage room.

No ghost jumped out at you.

Problems started presenting themselves when you walked down one of the hallways and pushed open a bedroom door. The entire room felt set apart from the rest of the place with almost-new curtains that had been drawn shut. Blankets covered the bed, dirty but still there. You immediately thought somebody may be squatting there but your concerns changed when you noticed the wall.

Black mold. It crawled its way up the side, covering most of what had once been white wallpaper. You brought one hand up to shield your mouth and stepped out, slamming the door closed.

If there was an infestation then you had to get the health department immediately. This was –

Your thoughts were interrupted by something grabbing you. Panic filled your mind as a sharp weapon was pressed against your throat.

“Well now, I just know that you don’t have an appointment,” a voice said close to your ear. “I don’t like trespassers.”

Thinking on instinct, you threw your head backwards as hard as you could. There was a satisfying impact followed by a loud yelp of pain. The weapon around your throat moved away so you kicked the guy in the shin and bolted for it.

The house felt bigger while you were running but nobody came after you. You didn’t hear any footsteps or other sounds of a chase.

Bursting through the front door, you winced at the bright light. The house hadn’t seemed nearly that dark until compared to the outside.

You collided with one of the workers in your rush and nearly knocked everybody to the ground.

“What’s happened?”

“It was that ghost, I’m telling you.”

“We warned her, boss.”

You cleared your throat and straightened up, making eye contact with each man individually. “There is no ghost,” you said. “Only a squatter who I shall deal with using police force if needed. However, I do believe any construction will have to wait because I saw an excessive spread of black mold within the house.”

They all spoke amongst themselves, discussing options. You glanced back to the house and allowed your attention to find its way to the bedroom window. Though fleeting, a masked face peered out at you from within.

Eyeless Jack

In many ways, what happened that night was your boss’ fault.

Having just finished working a double shift that ended at almost 1 in the morning, you were exhausted upon returning home. You walked past the neighbouring apartment with only one thought on your mind – sleep.

It was then that you heard a thump coming from within the house, followed shortly by a muffled scream.

Tired, you had to pause to register what was happening and, by the time your brain caught up, your heart was in full-on panic mode. You slowly reached into your pocket and dialed the emergency number as slowly as you dared, whispering into the phone and being reassured that a police presence would be arriving shortly.

Your neighbour was a young man though, just out of rehab and beginning to make his way through life. The longer you stood and waited for the police, the guiltier you felt.

So you reached into the pot plant and pulled out his spare key. After a short while of building yourself up, you unlocked the door and crept inside.

It was dark with the outside world shrouded via heavy curtains. You could barely make your way through the unfamiliar apartment and you didn’t dare turn on the light. Damn, you were extremely tired.

Part of your brain suggested that you had imagined the whole thing. It was a byproduct of a sleep-addled mind or something. That would be embarrassing to explain to the police and to your neighbour. Would you get charged for breaking and entering or could you blame it on your tiredness?

Your doubts didn’t get much further than that because somebody grabbed you from within the room.

A horrible iron-filled scent attacked your senses as you took in the bedroom. It looked like your neighbour was tied to the bed though he wasn’t moving. Somebody stood behind you, their breathing heavy and their grip strong.

They pushed your wrist closer to your back, preventing you from wriggling free of their grip. A blade, small and yet sharp, pressed against the side of your throat.

“Trying to play the hero, are we?” snarled a voice. “Have you called the cops?”

The blade pressed against your skin and you quickly spat out a yes.

“Probably right before you came in, if not earlier… I’d have enough time to kill you but then you’d be an absolute waste. Nowhere to stash a body around here and they’d comb the entire area if you were missing…”

“I didn’t mean –“

You were shoved forward before you had a chance to react. In the dark, you couldn’t make anything out and you hit the wall unexpectedly. Now, far enough away, you turned and tried to make out the face of your assailant. He melded in with the shadows and you ran your fingers along the wall until you found a light switch.

The lights flickered on and you gasped.

He wore a dark blue mask, a black ooze dripping from the eye sockets and onto his hoodie. There was no reaction to the lights. Not even a blink.

“Don’t you want to beg for your life?” he asked. “The other one pleaded nearly constantly until I shut him up.”

“You killed him…”

“He isn’t dead, just unconscious,” the man scoffed. “I try to avoid killing them, if I’m able to.”

“The police will be here soon,” you warned.

“Oh I know. That’s the only reason that I’m leaving this very minute.” He made his way over to the window, never turning to stop facing you. The bedroom window slipped open without a sound and he began climbing out. “I’d keep my doors locked if I was you. Plenty of unsavory characters live in these parts.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Glitchy Red

Your younger cousin squealed excitedly, holding the game to her chest in joy. “I love it so much!” she said. “I can’t believe I used to think Pokémon was for babies. At first when the music randomly cut out, I did think it was super weird but I’ve gotten used to it now.”

“I don’t think it’s meant to do that,” you chuckled. “But cheap versions, you know?”

It was good to see that your last-minute gift hadn’t gone to waste. You had been worried that the present’s fun would be lost on your video game-hating cousin but she had actually decided to give the game a shot. Now you had somebody in the family to speak to which was extraordinarily exciting.

“What are you meant to say to Red when he asks you whether or not he’s a joke?” she aske unexpectedly. “I know that if you say no, he goes away, and I’ve been too scared to try the other option.”

You frowned. “I don’t actually remember that part of the game.”

“Really? But it happens so often.”

When she realised that you really hadn’t encountered anything like that in the game before, she told you to wait a minute and came back with her game.

“There was one around here,” she said, loading in. “Just give me a second and I’ll find it.”

You stayed much later than you had originally intended to that night. The two of you played through a lot of the game, waiting for the moment when Red would break the fourth wall and demand to know about your opinions on him.

It never came.

The game ran incredibly smoothly. It was quite odd. There weren’t any hiccups along the way nor horror-style glitches. The music didn’t even cut off which was apparently rare accourding to your cousin.

After a while, she sighed and handed it to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why it’s not breaking. I’ll go make us some food.”

You continued playing while she was gone, enjoying the memories that came with the game. It was as fun as you remembered until about five minutes after she left. The music just shut off unexpectedly and, no matter what you did, it refused to come back at all. Any other sound effects worked fine though.

“So you’re just programed to break when only one person’s in the room?” you joked.

Perhaps that was a bad choice.

Unexpectedly, a loud static erupted from the console, so ear-aching that it felt like your ears began to bleed. The game took on a horrible red tint and Red appeared on the screen, a dialogue box appearing beneath his blackened form.

AM I A JOKE TO YOU?

Horrified, you immediately shut down the game and threw the cartridge as far away from you as possible. You raced at full speed into the kitchen, nearly knocking several things over along the way.

“You have got to throw that game,” you wheezed.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“There is something really fucked up with that game…” you said. “That thing with Red is absolutely not meant to happen. It felt like he was staring into my soul. You have to throw it out the moment you can. I will buy you another one but do not keep that.”

“Oh, alright,” she said, seemingly confused but nowhere as shaken as you were.

A faint static came from the living room, sending shivers down your spine.

Hobo Heart

Tears flowed down your face despite your best attempts to remain composed. “I’ve known for a while now,” you managed to say.

Your ex-boyfriend seemed shocked, though not entirely upset about your admission. “How long –“

“Since last week,” you said. “Though I’ve heard it’s been going on for considerably longer.”

He shifted his weight and took a deep breath. You recognised this behavior from the past, already hearing the words you knew were coming. The apologies and the false regret, the promises about not doing it again, and then the eventual guilt-tripping. If you heard the latter, you weren’t sure your resolve would hold.

“Goodbye,” you said firmly.

“Wait!”

You ignored the calls, making your way home at a steady place. A few people offered you concerned looks so you rubbed away the tears and took a few deep breaths.

Several months of your life had been completely wasted. You had put so much time and energy into a person who didn’t care one ounce about you.

Just great.

You turned onto your street and made your way to the house across from your own. The woman who lived there was always busy and she only came home to feed her dog before disappearing again. Thankfully, she trusted you to spend time with Bruno.

Bruno came racing over to the gate and jumped up for head scratches. He was a beautiful Afghan Hound with a dark coat and bright eyes.

“At least I know that you’ll always be by my side,” you said, running his fingers through the dog’s fur.

A tear slipped out and you quickly rubbed it away. You dug around in your bag and took out a couple treats, offering him.

A second bark brought your attention to the street.

Standing there, a small white dog with a scruffy coat stared up at you. It looked friendly enough and, after cautiously checking it out, you crouched down and gave it a treat.

“Hello,” you cooed. You gave the pup a few scratches and smiled. “How are you doing, hm? No collar? But you must have an owner because your coat is all groomed and soft. Did you get out or slip your leash?”

You looked around the streets to see if anybody. Nobody jumped out so you gave the dog another treat and brought it into the garden with Bruno to protect it from cars.

The two barked and played with little issue and you messages friends and family about the events of the day.

It was about half an hour later when the air was starting to get chilly. You stood and the small scruffy dog began barking excitedly. Its tail whipped through the air and it jumped up against the fence. A man wearing a white hoodie was standing down the street. You glanced at the dog, scooped it up and made your way to where he was.

“Excuse me,” you said. “I think that I found your dog.”

He turned to look at you and you startled slightly at his rather unusual face paint. A white skull was painted onto his face, similar to something you would see at a college convention.

He glanced down at the happy dog and sighed. “So that’s where he got to.”

“I’m sorry if you were looking for him. I took him off the street to protect him from any cars or anything.”

“It’s fine. He always shows up eventually,” the guy said. “You can just put him down. He’ll follow me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Then he turned and started walking away. You hurriedly put the dog down and it immediately bounded after him, falling into step directly beside him. They disappeared around a corner and you returned to your own house.

The day had gotten much warmer suddenly.