#i was walking home when a stray literally SCREAMED at me

[ftcatv]

reminder to please neuter your cats because i cant realistically feed all the babies theyre leaving everywhere

[milesmolasses]

I'm gonna kill you

miles morales x reader

if you don’t know what “throwing franks” means it basically means telling someone to “suck my dick” lmao

which reminds me the setting is nyc (bk)

is this what ppl call crack? idk man

"miles I'm not playin with you right now, put my water bottle down I'm thirsty!"

miles walked around the dingy restaurant, my bottle in his hand, which was waved high in the air. "you gon have to come and get it than miss smart mouth! you keep playin with me like I can't beat you up," he joked.

miles has been my best friend ever since the middle of third grade when he switched his elementary school. i remember when he was this tiny, shy kid who sat at the back of the school basement for lunchtime since our school never had a formal lunchroom. all i wanted was to make a new friend, so i walked up to the shy new boy and ate my lunch with him. we would walk home together, play at the park together, and have cute lil playdates scheduled by our mothers; ah, yes, those were the times; up until now.

"bro, my bad, just give me my water bottle my mouth is on fire, no funny shit," i had my tongue out, breathing heavily. my mom owns this restaurant, where she cooks (insert culture) dishes for the world of Brooklyn to enjoy. this space doubled as our hang-out spot, considering i would stop by every day after school for free food. my mom had served me (insert dish) with extra spice; "try something new," they said. "it'll be delicious," they said. while yes, the food was good, the new added spices had me steaming at the ears, tongue out, huffing and puffing like a damn dog.

now you may be wondering, "who the hell told you to do this?" miles. it was always miles. he knows I don't usually stray from the usual dishes that i get every time we come here, but somehow he convinced me that trying something new would be good for me. so, i let him order on my behalf; this dude ordered me (insert cultural food)… with 3x the amount of hot sauce I usually get. leading us to now...

"'my bad' is not an apology, bozo, i need to hear you say what i want you to say," he said with the biggest smile on his face. all i did was throw a frank at him, and he chose to torment me, saying, "i was disrespectful." he wants a sorry? imma give him a damn sorry.

"ok ok I'm sorry, miles please just give me the bottle," this time, my eyebrows were furrowed and i made sure to put my acting skills to the test. miles gave me a worried look, scared that he actually went too far this time in his games. he gave me back the water bottle and came closer to me, examining my face to see if i was ok.

"yo, you good? I'm sorry i didn't know it was that deep. here you go drink this," he looked so sorry. he looked like he really regretted what he did to me, it almost made me feel bad for what i was about to say to him.

almost...

"yeah, it was that deep... deep in ya momma!" i watched as miles face slowly converted from looking worried to "what did this bitch just say to me?" i started to run out of the store as fast as i could, chugging the water down my throat with my mouth still on fire. miles was definitely faster than me, so i decided to hide somewhere, anywhere.

i turned the corner, body jerking forward so fast i almost fell face first into the concrete. i caught myself on my hands just in time as i kept my momentum and ran down the block. i looked behind me and he was literally right there in arms reach of me literally, reaching his arm out to grab me. i grabbed the door handle of an unknown store and stumbled into it.

there i could see several women and young girls look up from what ever they were doing to look at me. just as they were looking at me, miles ran in the store and came to an abrupt stop. great now even more people were staring; it was then i realized all the assortments of nail polish laid out neatly on different shelves. oh my god it was a nail salon. miles looked down at me with eyes wide open and a look on his face that screamed "oh hell nah." a lady from the front desk with a slim figure and a headwrap, came up to us and pulled us to the side.

"I'm sorry, you cant just run into this store and be rowdy. we have customers to attend to and they don't need disturbances." i looked up at miles to see him already responding to the lady with prayer hands, "I an so sorry about my friend here please forgive them, sometimes they're a bit hard to control. i think we'll be leaving now, once again, so sorry," he responded whilst dragging me by the shirt to leave the salon. once we were on the side walk again, i busted out laughing so hard, i had to hunch over and close my eyes to keep tears from falling out.

miles gave me the biggest side eye known to man as i laughed in the middle of the street, looking around for people possibly staring at us.

"i swear to god I'm gonna kill you when i get to your house."

this was fun to write lmao

I was really just writing anything that came to mind

I did this once after 7th grade in the summer with some friends so that’s what I based this on

[houpss]

STRAY KIDS DIED,WHEN PROTECTING YOU pt4.

I'm an empath and while I was writing this...oh, I was crying like the last bitch. Parts will be released by two members! (💊))

pt1;;pt2;;pt3

KIM SEUNGMIN

Why doesn't Kim Seungmin answer his phone today?

Oh...he died from a gas leak in the apartment.

He successfully sent you off to work, while he stayed at home, he had the day off.

At this time you were with Minho and Hyunjin, they asked you to help with something.

You all found out about this together and you and SKZ went to the scene of the incident... this couldn’t happen, Seungmin couldn’t die.

His body was literally pieced together

You couldn't come to the funeral, you couldn't help yourself.

You will come to Seungmin’s grave only a week after the funeral. Sorry, puppy.

You can't believe that now Seungmin is two meters underground, he shouldn't be there...

You can’t go back to the dorm and pick up his things, you’re ashamed to look the boys in the eyes.

You disappear without a trace.

Under your cover there is his photograph and his only jacket you are wearing, the only thing you have saved.

You will never contact the members again, you will never return to Seoul again.

You will cut off all contact, even with his parents.

Seungmin haunts your dreams, it's like he's trying to get you back

“It’s not your fault, Y/N...I’m cold without you.”

Every time you wake up in cold sweat and tears, go away. Never dream about me again, Kim.

YANG JEONGIN

You died together.

You died with Jeongin, your bodies were found in your apartment... you held hands tightly and looked into each other's eyes. Below you was a huge pool of blood.

What's happened? No one knows...

What happened after death?

The afterlife, you got there absolutely alone. you were wearing white clothes, you were walking along a dark corridor

I wanted to go to Jeongin...Where is he?

The walk changed to a run, you picked up the hem of your dress and ran. The place where they were shot hurt a lot.

Is Jeongin in as much pain as you?

The dark corridor had no end, you're running nowhere

You hear his voice ahead, God, how soothing his voice is...

Jeongin is calling you...go to him

You run even faster and see him ahead

There is a terrible wound on his stomach from a bullet, and there is a similar one on your stomach.

You try to touch him... and all over again.

You run again, his voice again... and everything all over again.

It was like hell.

"Please give me peace next to Jeongin..."

You scream, you beg and maybe someday you will touch him again.

You will definitely touch him again and not let him go.

[sailoryooons]

Carmen | pjm x kth (m)

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Jimin x Human!Taehyung

☾ Summary: Taehyung gets lured to an exclusive club by a strange, enchanting woman. What finds him there is much more intoxicating and dangerous. 

☾ Word Count: 10,277

☾ Genre: Supernatural, Smut, PWP

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Hypnotized/compelled decisions and thoughts, implied manipulation, Taehyung is influenced a lot by the natural power/allure of vampires and it scatters his thoughts/makes him do things he normally wouldn’t, depictions of blood, intimidation, The Vibes Are Off, light depictions of anxiety, vampires showing off humans like pets sort of, biting/marking/bruising, explicit language, explicit sexual content, not using lube, spit play/using spit as lube, light degradation, blood play/drinking, rough sex, overstimulation, oral (m. receiving), hand jobs, ass play, a lot of feelings and sensations, mentions of fear during sex, references to subspace, feeling overwhelmed during sex, crying, power dynamics but not explicitly dom/sub, blood lust, feeding frenzy, feelings of terror, Jimin calls Taehyung ‘Carmen’ sometimes - it makes sense in context, Taehyung is lured to the vampire den, implied obsessive themes (no stalking or anything), hair pulling, voyeurism, scenes of carnage and like a feed frenzy, terror at the end of fucking, idk its a vampire coven and Taehyung realizes whats happening at the very end so. 

☾ Published: October 27, 2023

☾ A/N: Happy Halloween to my baby bat @gimmethatagustd. I love you eternally, and I hope that we live a long and immortal life together. Please accept this as my love for you and I hope I am actually with you when this drops so that you can start screaming at me for hiding the fact that this fic was for you the entire time sofidjfogidjf. Also, Happy Early Birthday. I love you so much it’s actually disgusting and I need to be institutionalized. LARGELY UNEDITED SORRY. 

☾ A/N 2: If mem x mem isn't your thing - literally just don't read it. It is that easy. This is not me being a shipper - it is fiction and I do not believe in shipping people in a real-life setting. Thanks.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Tag List | Song Inspiration | BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween Collab

The boys, the girls They all like Carmen -Carmen, Lana Del Ray

Taehyung knows the woman at the back of the lounge wants to take him home before his first song is over. He’s become better at picking them out early. Of course, most of the men and women want to take Taehyung home, especially when starts singing the slower, romantic ballads. He can see the way they sigh, melting in their seats a little, eyes wide and mouth open. 

It’s hard to pinpoint what makes his eyes keep straying back to her. She is beautiful, to be sure, but something is pressing in Taehyung’s mind as he starts his set, drawing his eyes back to her. Like an invisible hand guiding him each time, reminding him that she is there and watching. 

She stares at him with a pinpoint focus, her dark eyes tracking Taehyung on the stage as he walks slowly, mic in hand and singing the notes softly. His eyes keep drifting back to her, trying to make out her features. All he can garner is that her eyes are alluring and even from a distance, she emanates something. Huger. Power.

It makes his stomach flip. Taehyung likes those who want him, but he loves those who crave him. Usually, it’s the men who are hungry enough for Taehyung to chase him. To go after what they want. To whisper pretty compliments until Taehyung is so lavished in attention that he goes home with them. 

The woman at the back of the room looks like she can charm him - will charm him. It makes his lips turn upward as he croons softly into the mic, feeling the music of the band behind him swell, jazzy notes drifting. 

He loves this. His mother told him that he was born to sing. Her little songbird. His mother is dead now, but he lives on through each velvet note, warm voice pouring over the patrons who watch him with dazed expressions. 

Taehyung feels powerful this way. He could lead them all around the room, he’s sure of it. He could get them up, one by one, and lead them straight into destruction. He’s sure of it. 

Except for that woman at the back of the room, whose presence scrambles Taehyung’s thoughts. He finds it hard to perform, her presence like a weighted stone on his thoughts at all times. He nearly messes up the words to a few songs he is so enchanted. 

Still, he does well. La Vie is one of Taehyung’s favorite places to perform. The clientele is high-end, the staff likes to give him free food and drink along with a decent amount of cash for his performances, and he’s growing a steady income here. 

The only problem with La Vie is that its clientele are often repeat customers, and Taehyung has grown weary of seeing the same faces he’s taken to bed already. The faces who think they own him now, who think that just because they’ve had a taste, they can have a fit whenever his eyes stray in another direction.

And his eyes do stray. 

In the middle of his set, Taehyung takes a cool sip of water while the band plays a fast tune. He nods his head, feeling the rhythm and snapping his fingers. The stage lights are low but he feels the heat through his long-sleeved shirt and slacks, sweat dripping down the back of his neck slowly like a phantom finger. 

From the corner of his eye, Taehyung can see Constantine staring. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he feels the sudden flash of irritation, the urge to curl his lip in annoyance. Constantine is the exact problem that Taheyung has with La Vie, except that he’s the one who got Taehyung the gig - and the manager. 

Taehyung’s throat tightens as he walks back to the stage to finish the last half of the set. The last of the songs are slower, dreamy romantic songs meant to soften the crowd before they dismiss from the lounge for the evening. The sooner he ends the show, the sooner he’ll have to field Constantine’s seeking questions and fawning. 

It presents a problem if Taehyung wants to talk to the woman at the back of the room. 

He decides not to think about it too much. Instead, he closes his eyes and sings his way through the rest of the song, voice carrying old jazz classics and his own written music. Some people would call his smooth voice haunting. Others call it hypnotizing. Taehyung doesn’t know where he stands on the subject, and he doesn’t care so much. He just likes to sing and he likes people who watch him sing. Who listen. 

There are those who come to his performances at high-end restaurants and lounges to watch him, and those who come to hear him. He prefers those who like to hear him, but any will do at the end of the night when he wants to roll around satin sheets and drink rich wine that he doesn’t have the pallet for. 

When he sings the final note of the night, it hangs in the air. This is one of Taehyung’s favorite moments of each night. It’s the last breath before his spell is broken, a moment frozen in time where all eyes are on him, the crowd so entranced that it takes a long pause for them to realize he’s finished.

The brief silence is chased with thunderous applause and people standing. He grins, feeling his chest swell with pride, blood sizzling in his veins as he bows low at the waist. He’s one of the few artists who can get this stiff, rich crowd to stand and cheer, and he knows it. 

He steps to the side and gestures to his band, the applause continuing as they each stand and bow. Though most people might feel tired after a performance, Taehyung is buzzing. He feels the adrenaline pumping through him, and after he steps down from the stage and polishes off ice-cold water, he immediately wants something harder to keep the buzz going. 

Drinks wait for him on the bar top. It’s crowded at La Vie but people make room for him at the bar. An original speakeasy from the prohibition era, it’s low-ceiling and dimly lit, offering a romantic and mysterious air hanging in the room. Taehyung places a folded wad of bills into a glass tip jar, saluting Yoongi behind the bar. The bartender nods, gracious for the tip and a confirmation that the glasses of neat are on the house. 

Taehyung knocks back the first glass. The whiskey burns down his throat. He hisses as it goes, feeling the sting in his nasal passage. He blows out a slow breath and grins to himself, pausing before he sips the next drink to shake hands with a string of patrons complimenting him. 

None of them catch his eye the way the woman at the back of the room has, though. Taehyung sees lingering looks from husbands and wives and smirks at a group of giggling women who are shy and blushing and biting their lips as they compliment him, and he feels a slight spike of irritation when Constantine takes the stool next to him.

Instead of speaking to him, Taehyung focuses on sipping the drink. It’s smooth and perfect, with a hint of orange rind that Yoongi probably burned and waved around the glass. Taehyung looks up to see the bartender cast Constantine a pitying glance before making another drink. 

“You sang well tonight,” Constantine prods. “You have such a way with the crowd.”

“Well, I supposed that’s my job.” Taehyung’s comment comes out flat. He glances at Constantine from the corner of his eye to see that he’s frowning. 

Taehyung is full of mistakes, but letting the manager of La Vie fuck him is by far one of his biggest. He usually has a rule that he doesn’t fuck the people who can interfere with his work, but he made an exception. 

Constantine is beautiful, but a bit of a fool. He inherited La Vie from a long line of family members who have kept it running, and it’s through long-term patronage and reputation alone that it’s lasted this long. Well, that and his two only successful ventures in hiring Yoongi as his main bartender who doubles as his piano player on weeknights, and Taehyung as the late-night performances most evenings. 

People don’t come to La Vie because it’s well-kept or because of Constantine’s good business acumen. They come because they want to hear Yoongi play and then watch him behind a bar all night, sweat running down his neck, dark eyes always filled with a potential promise of more. They don’t get it, of course. Yoongi doesn’t sleep around as Taehyung does, but still, the bartender and pianist is loved and lusted after by most of the patrons. 

Then there’s Taehyung. The warm opposite of Yoongi’s distant, unattainable beauty. Taehyung is full of life, accepting praise greedily, willing to flirt his way through free drinks and extra tips, especially if it lands him in the bed of someone he has been eyeing all night.

Until he broke his rule for Constantine. Pretty Constantine, who said that he was on the same page and that sleeping with Taehyung would be a casual thing. Perhaps it’s Taehyung’s fault for not seeing how mystified the lounge manager was after that first night tangled in sweaty sheets followed by a hot shower the next morning. 

Now, he’s between a rock in a hard place. Offend Constantine and risk being ousted. Keep letting him take Taehyung to bed, and he’ll never escape. 

“Your eyes are beautiful tonight,” Constantine murmurs, dipping his head to catch Taehyung’s attention. “I’d bet they’d look even better rolling in-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” a dark, feminine voice cuts in. “But I couldn’t resist introducing myself.”

The hair stands up on the back of Taehyung’s neck. He knows it’s the woman who watched him from the back of the room before he even turns around. When he does, he is mystified. Her eyes are lined heavily in kohl and her eyes are dark as a storm sea, pinning him to his place with their intensity. Her skin is umber and smooth, her face so flawless it leaves Taehyung reeling.

There is something uncanny about her. Taehyung can’t put his finger on it. Her eyes are narrow and sharp, her lips plump and breaking into a slow, knowing smile. She looks like the cat who ate the canary, tilting her head to the side as she continues to examine Taehyung with a feline-like gaze. 

“My name is Evangeline.” She reaches out a small, smooth hand. Her nails are filed into a point and painted a wine red. For a moment, Taehyung has the silliest thought that they look like the color of blood as he shakes her hand. He’s surprised at how cold they are, his palms tingling when she lets go. “I have not heard someone sing Ella Fitzgerald like that since… well, perhaps Ella Fitzgerald.”

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, a little confused. “Do you have Ella hidden somewhere that you can listen to her sing whenever you desire?”

“Would that I could. But that’s what… oh what is that spot app, again?”

“Spotify?”

Evangeline grins, revealing wicked, blindingly white teeth. “Spotify, yes. That little intricacy does quite a good job at catching the sound of old artists, but there is nothing like it live.”

Evangeline’s voice is like velvet. Even Constantine goes silent next to Taehyung, staring up at the woman as she slides next to Taehyung. She leans against the bar close enough that he gets the barest hint of scent like jasmine and amber. 

A shiver slides through him as she sips a glass of the darkest wine Taehyung’s ever seen. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth when he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. I know most of the patrons by heart.”

“You wouldn’t have. I have not been to La Vie in a long time.” 

Taehyung realizes that she speaks with a specific articulation that hints at an accent. He can’t place it, but it’s like the sweetest music to his ears. “You’ll have to come more often, perhaps.”

“That eager to see me again?”

“I like to pride myself on repeat customers coming to hear me. It would be a shame to know you didn’t find my performance compelling enough to see another.”

“Hmm. Pride isn’t very becoming.”

Taehyung bites his lower lip, trying to hide the smile. “Spoken like a woman who can relate.” 

Evangeline is quick-witted. The rest of the world seems to fade as Taehyung talks to her. It’s strange - he cannot remember what the conversation is about, and he can’t remember Constantine leaving. He doesn’t even recall the patrons leaving the bar until it’s just Yoongi wiping down the counters, eyeing Taehyung wearily as he says goodbye, following the woman out of the door.

Blood rushes through Taehyung’s veins. It’s cold outside, winter fogging his breath. His skin tingles with the sudden temperature change, muted by the soft glow of alcohol in his system. He looks up at the sky, hot breath fogging as he inhales deeply, filling his lungs with that sharp air. 

Something about being drunk in the middle of the night during winter is magical. He can’t explain it, feeling himself smile as he drops his gaze back down to the woman next to him. For a second, he swears her face is sharper than he remembers, a look so hungry in his eyes that it makes his pulse skip.

When he blinks, she’s smirking at him, tilting her head. Taehyung realizes he is drunk, but he craves Evangeline. Wants to hear the way that dark voice of her pants against him, wants to feel her sharp nails on his skin, raking down-

“Have you ever been to the opera house on ninth?”

Taehyung pauses at her question. He feels his brows furrow as his drunk thoughts turn from thoughts of kissing Evangeline to puzzling out her question. “That exclusive club that was made out of the old opera house? What’s it called again…”

“Sanguine.”

He snaps his fingers and points at her. “Sanguine. No, I haven’t. It’s by invitation only and it’s the most exclusive club in the city. I hear it’s open all hours, though.”

“It is.”

“Wait, are you a member?” 

Evangeline sticks her hand out. Taehyung meets her gaze and it feels like he falls forward into it. All thoughts fade from his mind. There is no sound, save that of a high-pitched ringing. Everything but the glowing, otherworldly woman has faded to the back. He only sees her. 

Taehyung lifts his hand, but he doesn’t remember thinking about doing it. He places it in hers, and she laces their fingers. Her hands are bitterly cold, but she doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t either, skin tingling, gaze heavy on her as she tugs him along.

“Want to see it?”

He can’t form words. Suddenly feels like he can’t remember how. He nods his head instead, following her. His first few steps feel heavy and he stumbles like he has had far more to drink than he remembers. Normally, it might be cause for alarm, but Taehyung is unbothered as they walk, Evangeline’s eyes pulling him along as she walks backward. 

The world passes by but Taehyung doesn’t remember it. He is somewhat aware that his cheeks and nose are sticking with cold and that his eyes are watering from the temperature. He tilts his head upward, a little dazed and confused about where he is until he sees the golden glow of the opera house.

Sanguine. It is a massive building of white stone and ornate pillars. The architecture confuses him, a blend of Greco-Roman pillars and gargoyles he’d expect to find in a gothic church. The building is a wonderous feat of dark windows, ornate carvings in the stonework, and height. 

“The gargoyles are a bit terrifying,” Taehyung announces, staring at them fixated on top of the portico over the entryway. “Why the gargoyles?” 

“Some lessons are hard to learn.” 

Suddenly, Taehyung can’t take his eyes off of them. The two snarling beasts seem to be a bad omen and he finds himself frozen to the spot, forgetting all about the woman next to him or the invitation to see the exclusive inside of the most prestigious clubs in the city. All he knows is that suddenly, a feeling like doom has tiptoed up his back to rest on his shoulder. 

Taehyung takes a step back. The gargoyles look so much more like people when he stares at them. Twisted humanoids, crouched while screaming at the sky, showing fangs. His heart beats so hard that he feels his pulse in his throat, panic welling up inside of him, ready to spill out and overflow.

“I’m drunk,” he blurts. “I should go home. I-”

Evangeline’s cold hands grab Taehyung’s face and pull him down to her. Her lips are pressed against his and he doesn’t remember what he was worried about. His heart speeds up for different reasons now, eyes fluttering shut as he melts into her kiss, his hands going to her hips to pull her in closer. 

She tastes like dark wine and something else - a bit like iron and salt. The kiss is slow and dizzying and when she pulls away, Taehyung is eager to follow her into the dark halls of the opera house.

The lobby is dark inside. No light comes through the windows, leaving Taehyung in a complete abyss as Evangeline shuts and bolts the door behind him. A tingle slithers up Taehyung’s spine when she bolts the door and he suddenly feels like he’s never going to leave the opera house again. 

A soft din of voices and music trails to him from the doors leading to the main theater. Evangeline takes his hand and leads up toward the door. He still feels dizzy from the kiss, willing to follow her wherever she goes. 

For now, that’s the main seating area of the theater. She pulls open the heavy door, the rush of gentle voices and piano hitting him. Leading him through the door, Taehyung blinks as his eyes adjust from complete darkness to low light. It’s so dim that it takes him a moment to make out anything at all, eyes drifting up toward a massive chandelier with flickering, gold bulbs. 

The inside of the theater is like nothing Taehyung has ever seen. It has been transformed into a massive lounge with a wooden bar on the far right, manned by two bartenders. Velvet couches, chaise lounges and chairs are placed around the main floor, groups of people dressed in formal wear and dripping with jewels draping themselves over the furniture. 

Everything screams opulence. The interior still has the same baroque, elegant beauty that seems like the original design, mixed with the new additions like the bar and furniture. On the stage is a piano, a young woman playing with her eyes closed, and a cluster of people around her, gazing at her with what Taehyung can only describe as hunger. 

Evangeline leads him into the room. He feels the eyes on them as they go, glancing around nervously to realize that there is an odd mix of people in the room. There are those dressed formally in draping gowns and tuxedos, all of whom are unnaturally beautiful. Taehyung finds that his brain buzzes when he looks at them, each individual otherworldly and… cold. 

The other groups of people look like Taehyung. Starry-eyed and dressed in varying degrees of plain clothes. He wonders if they are guests as well, people brought into the fold by elegant patrons like Evangeline. 

Trepidation settles deep in Taehyung’s gut as Evangeline takes him to the bar and orders him a drink. He is tired, eyes heavy and worn at the edges. The momentary surge of adrenaline after she kissed him is wearing off, and Taehyung feels the layer of dizziness slipping off, replaced by anxiety. 

In an attempt to take the edge off, he sips his drink. Evangeline begins introducing him to groups of people, linking her arms with his and pulling him around the room. Taehyung gives her friends a dazzling smile, though he is overwhelmed by the dark eyes that meet his. The cold handshakes. The almost predatory way that the others smile at him. 

He cannot pinpoint what about the crowd is making him nervous, but as Evangeline tells someone about his singing ability, Taehyung realizes that she’s bragging. Showing him off. Pulling him around the room and gesturing to him with words like look what I found and isn’t he just darling? 

Normally, Taehyung preens with pride under the compliments and the pretty words. He loves it when people are enthralled by him, swept away by his talents. Now, something about it feels off. They don’t look at him with wonder on their faces and awe in their eyes- they coo at him. Look at him like they want to eat him whole. Like he is something they can possess. 

Only one person introduces himself and looks at Taehyung curiously instead of with lecherous intent. “Hoseok,” he says, shaking Taehyung’s hand. It’s firm and cold. “What do you like to sing?”

It’s the only time he’s been asked a question tonight. Hoseok is hauntingly beautiful, with dark eyes, a slim nose, and cheekbones that seem carved by Strazza. He is dazzling to look at, and Taehyung’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he says, “Jazz, mostly. Sometimes classical, but that was mostly in my younger days in school.” 

“Divine.” Hoseok’s gaze slides to Evangeline. “You know he’s… his type.”

“Well, he didn’t find him.” 

Taehyung doesn’t know who he is and he doesn’t get the chance to ask. The pianist on stage stops playing and Evangeline takes Taehyung’s hand, pulling him toward the stage. “Come on,” she gushes. “Let them hear you.”

He lets himself be pulled. Taehyung feels a coil of nerves in his stomach as she yanks him on stage and pushes him to the middle. The room quiets when they see them and Evangeline claps her hands, drawing the full attention of the lounge.

There’s no spotlight, but Taehyung feels hot under the weighted gaze. Again, his instinct tingles, trying to make him aware of something. He just doesn’t know what. He shoves down the feeling and tucks his hands into his pockets, giving a shy grin as Evangeline talks about his voice. 

The crowd of patrons lean in a little when she steps off the stage. Their gazes are sharp as razors and he can’t help but feel like a shy lamb among a pack of wolves. 

Licking his dry lips, he clears his throat and laughs awkwardly, unsure of where to look. Evangeline stands near the side of the stage, not a great point of attention as he sweeps his gaze out into the room. He fixes his eyes on the glowing red exit sign above the door and opens his mouth, taking in a deep breath before he starts a slow Sinatra number. 

His voice carries over the hushed silence, deep and swelling. He smiles a little as he sings, watching the face go from hungry to mystified. The whole room seems to lean in, people from the back moving toward the stage, drawn in by him. 

Taehyung goes right into the next song, feeling his anxiety melt away. His audience is wrapped around his finger, their eyes following him as he trails around the stage, more engaged. He makes eye contact with some of them, still flinching internally at the sheer darkness of their eyes, but still singing nonetheless. 

When Taehyung finishes, the room erupts into gentle clapping and whispered praise. He feels pride well up inside of him, flushing with pleasure as he bows at the waist, grinning under the sweet applause. He stands up and starts walking toward Evangeline, who looks at him with a smile like the sun. His heart beats a little faster, grinning widely as she claps for him excitedly and-

“Sing another.”

Taehyung realizes the room is silent. The hairs on his arms stand on end and it feels like the air gets sucked out of the room suddenly. Evangeline’s eyes flash silver for a moment, but when Taehyung recoils and blinks, they’re back to normal, though she looks put out as she steps back from Taehyung. 

Slowly, Taehyung turns to look at the edge of the stage at the owner of the soft voice and his world stops. Whoever this man puts the rest of the beauty in the room to shame. Taehyung feels his pulse race, meeting the dark, sultry gaze of the man who spoke to him. 

Something calls to Taehyung. He steps toward the man, dazed and confused, staring, staring, staring. The man has the most beautiful face Taehyung has ever seen. Round cheekbones with a chiseled jaw, plush lips tinted rose, and siren eyes that glitter as he drinks Taehyung in. This is the son of a god or a god himself, Taehyung thinks. A creature of myth and legend.

“What do you want me to sing?” Taehyung asks, barely recognizing his own voice. His ears are ringing and his thoughts are syrup-slow. 

The man smiles and Taehyung feels his stomach flutter. The man is not dressed in formal attire like the rest of the patrons. He’s dressed simply in black jeans with tears in the knee, a black turtleneck tucked into the waistband to show off his tapered waist, and a necklace that looks to be made of thorns. 

Even dressed casually, he outshines every person in the room. 

“What’s your favorite?” he asks, cocking his head to the side and regarding Taehyung. 

A flush works up Taehyung’s neck. He feels a tingle slide down his spine and a lick of pleasure curl in his stomach at the man’s gaze. His fingers twitch and his mouth feels dry. He licks his lips, trying to think of the man’s question and what his answer should be. 

“Can’t Help Falling In Love, I think.” 

The man grins and Taehyung sees stars. “You think? Or you know?”

“I know?”

“Are you asking me?” 

Taehyung shifts back and forth, shame coloring his cheeks as he looks at the floor. Effortlessly, the man jumps up on the stage. He lands silent and lithe as a cat. Taehyung’s eyes widen as he approaches, his gait smooth, footfalls unheard. “I’m only teasing, sweetling. What’s your name?”

“Taehyung.” 

The man stops right in front of Taehyung. He’s shorter, but somehow Taehyung feels small and delicate in his presence, wavering as the smell of orange blossom and something darker washes over him. Taehyung’s eyelids flutter and he fights the urge to lean in closer to the man, to brush his fingers across his skin. 

“I’m Jimin.” Jimin reaches out and brushes his fingers across Taehyung’s cheekbone. His touch leaves a trail of tingling cold. Taehyung closes his eyes, breath catching. Whatever this spell he’s under, he can’t shake it, gone with just a touch. “I want you to sing for me, Taehyung.” 

“Okay.” 

Jimin steps away and Taehyung makes a sound, protesting. His mind is warring between confusion at his reaction and the need to be near Jimin. The duller part of his thoughts is careening, telling him to pull it together, to stop and leave. But the desire shaken awake by Jimin is so much louder, commanding Taehyung’s thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin murmurs, gesturing to where Evangeline is standing. “I’ll be right there.” 

Taehyung watches as Jimin glides over to the edge of the stage. He whispers something to Evangeline that Taehyung cannot hear but he watches the change in the woman. She ripples with anger, her lip curling up in a snarl. Jimin says something else to her and in the blink of an eye, her head is bowed, her shoulders coming up as she steps back, cowering. 

When Jimin turns around, he gives Taehyung an encouraging smile. The effect is instantaneous. Taehyung feels giddy inside, joy bubbling up as he returns the smile shyly. Gone is the anxiety, gone is the strange feeling of being paraded around. Now, all he can think about is Jimin’s dark eyes, the way they track him as he moves to the middle of the stage again. 

As Taehyung starts the song, he wonders if this is what Elvis was singing about. If wise men were right and that only fools fall in love. Can love at first sight be a thing? As Taehyung sings the song softly, looking at Jimin every so often, his eyes drawn to him like a magnet, he thinks perhaps this song was written about Jimin. 

It isn’t rational. Taehyung knows this and yet barely acknowledges it, watching Jimin’s eyes shine with something as Taehyung finishes the song. For a moment, no one claps. Taehyung looks nervously around the theater, watching as the eyes of the crowd look at Jimin. Once he applauds, the rest follow. 

Taehyung lets out a relieved breath, smiling and bowing shallowly. Jimin approaches him again. It occurs to Taehyung that Jimin walks like a jungle cat, smooth and somehow lethal. 

“You have the most exquisite voice,” Jimin says gently, shaking his head. “You are a rare treasure, Taehyung.” He holds out a hand. “Join me?” 

Taehyung starts to reach for Jimin before he hesitates, eyes glancing up over Jimin’s head at Evangeline, who looks murderous. “You are far too precious for her,” Jimin growls. “It is insulting that she thinks she could ever have you.”

Instead of answering, Taehyung just nods. His eyelids feel heavy, his heady swimming like he’s buzzing off a fresh glass of liquor. Jimin links their hands together and tugs Taehyung along. As they pass Evangeline, she doesn’t dare look at them, her eyes fixed on the floor. 

At the foot of the stairs, Hoseok is standing, arms crossed over his chest and smirking. He shakes his head when he sees Jimin, falling into step with him. “I told her.” 

“Thank you for alerting me,” Jimin tells Hoseok. Jimin turns over his shoulder where Taehyung is trailing a footstep behind. “I would have missed out on him.” 

Hoseok breaks off from them, walking toward the bar. Someone takes up the piano again as Jimin leads Taehyung out of the main theater and to a stairwell. He says nothing, following Jimin’s lead in silence, steps heavy. It feels like he’s underwater, everything dull around him. 

Except Jimin, who is sharp and bright and alive in his mind. 

Jimin leads Taehyung down a hall and through a door. It opens up into a balcony suite. What was once a private box for watching the opera has been turned into a luxurious room of sorts, making Taehyung raise his eyebrows. 

A lounge area is in the middle of the suite, and there is a single bed tucked into the corner. A wet bar is placed at the back, along with a doorway that leads into a refurbished bathroom. Taehyung pauses as Jimin drops his hand, looking around to appreciate the velvet drapery on the wall and the ornate decor in the room. 

It feels like he has stepped back in time, a mix of modern and Victorian meshing in a way that Taehyung finds wonderfully elegant. Jimin goes to the wet bar and retrieves two glasses, pouring them a finger of whiskey each. Taehyung walks toward him, looking out at the lounge beneath. 

“It’s designed like a bedroom?” Taehyung inquires, eyes drifting back to Jimin, who smiles as he brings the glass up to his lips. His sharp eyes pin Taehyung to the spot as he sips. “Do you… live here?”

Jimin shrugs. “Sometimes.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

Instead of answering the question, Jimin gestures for Taehyung to walk with him, leading him to a rich, crushed velvet couch that overlooks the lounge. Taehyung takes a sip of the whiskey but it’s Jimin who makes him feel drunk and cottony.

He sits next to Jimin, limbs stiff. Jimin giggles at Taehyung’s awkwardness, tsking at him as he leans over and pulls Taehyung toward him, pressing their thighs and sides together as they watch the party unfold below. Butterflies flutter in Taehyung’s smile as he looks at Jimin, who is watching Taehyung with rapt attention. 

Being so near Jimin is difficult. This close, he’s even more beautiful than before. Taehyung doesn’t know how it’s possible. Jimin’s lashes are long, framing his beautiful eyes. His dark hair looks silky and soft, tucked behind his ears as he regards Taehyung with a fond expression. 

Heat climbs up Taehyung’s neck and between his legs, a heady feeling sinking deep in his stomach under Jimin’s gaze.

“What?” Taehyung asks, looking down at his lap and chewing the inside of his cheek. He’s never felt so bashful under someone’s gaze before. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re beautiful, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t be shy now,” Jimin tuts. “You were quite confident on stage earlier. I believe the entire room fell in love with you.” Taehyung shrugs his shoulders and Jimin laughs loudly. “Now you’re humble? You are a delightful creature, Taehyung. Tell me, have you ever been to the opera?” 

“No, but I’m familiar with some.”

“What about Carmen?” Jimin asks. He reaches forward and drags a finger across Taehyung’s thigh. Taehyung holds back a groan as Jimin starts tracing patterns on Taehyung’s thigh. “Have you heard of that one?” 

“I’m familiar with the Habanera.” 

“Ah yes. It’s about a woman named Carmen who everyone is in love with. She entrances men with her vitality and sensuality. A man named José falls madly in love with her at first sight, abandoning the army, his wife, and his children for her.” 

Taehyung finds it hard to listen. Even through the fabric of his pants, Jimin’s touch is tantalizing. Taehyung’s legs widen a fraction, his spine tingling. He leans his head back, feeling breathless as Jimin’s tracing gets higher and higher, teasing Taehyung before his touch moves toward Taehyung’s knee again. 

“José, of course, is not the only one in love with Carmen. She is infectious, tempting everyone she comes into contact with.” Jimin leans toward Taehyung, so close that his breath ghosts across Taehyung’s throat. He feels his heart speed up as Jimin lowers his voice and continues, “You remind me so much of Carmen. Charming everyone around you with a simple look, with the sound of your voice. So addicting without even a taste.” 

“O-oh.” 

Jimin presses his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung nearly drops the glass in his hand, placing it next to him on the couch as his breathing hitches. Jimin runs his nose up Jimin’s too-hot skin, making Taehyung squirm. 

“I fear I have the same weakness as José and you have hypnotized me like Carmen.” 

“Me?”

Jimin nips Taehyung’s ear and Taehyung lets out a throaty, moan. Jimin’s breath across his skin is maddening, colors swimming behind squeezed-shut eyes. His dick hardens in his pants, blood pumping through him, arousal unfolding like the slow-blooming petals of a flower. 

“Don’t sound so surprised. You know the effect you have on people.”

“I do,” Taheyung admits. 

“Look at me.” 

It is a command. Taehyung obeys, turning his face to look up at Jimin. Jimin’s pupils are blown wide, hypnotizing, and alluring as he looks down his nose at Taehyung. Desire stirs so strongly in Taehyung that he parts his lips open, making a small noise as Jimin’s touch on Taehyung’s thigh turns to a solid grip, fingers digging in. 

“Do you want me, my Carmen? Do you desire me?”

“Yes,” Taehyung breathes. “Please.” 

“Ask, then.” 

Jimin’s eyes are so hungry that Taehyung is lost in them. Jimin is on his knees on the couch now, pressed against Taehyung. It feels more intimate than anything Taehyungh has ever felt and they’re barely touching, Jimin gripping Taehyung’s thigh, his mouth hovering inches above Taehyung’s.

“Ask,” Jimin growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere in Taehyung’s chest. Jimin might be smaller than Taehyung but the power that emanates from him is intoxicating and sweeping, making Taehyung shudder.

“Please,” Taehyung says again. “I want you. Will you have me? Please.”

Jimin’s grip is iron. “Of course I will. You’re mine.” 

Taehyung feels like Jimin’s as Jimin steals a searing kiss from him. Taehyung gasps into the kiss, melting into the couch as Jimin licks into the wet heat of Taehyung’s mouth. Jimin is all-consuming, his lips sliding against Taehyung’s hungrily, his tongue brushing against the ridges of Taehyung’s mouth.

It’s just a kiss and yet Taehyung loses himself in it. It’s needy and torrid, their teeth clicking together, lips sliding. Taehyung grabs the front of Jimin’s shirt, uncaring if he wrinkles it as Jimin presses Taehyung into the back of the couch, straddling him. Jimin’s fingers tangle in Taehyung’s hair, pulling harshly. 

The pleasure-pain makes Taehyung moan. Jimin hums, his devilish mouth moving from Taehyung’s lips to his jaw, biting and sucking harshly at the skin. It feels so good. Taehyung just lies there and takes it, hissing as Jimin’s teeth pinch and pull his skin, followed by Jimin’s soothing tongue, rough and wet.

The ache in his dick grows, especially as Jimin puts weight on it, sitting in his lap and leaning and rolling his hips forward, pressing into Taehyung’s cock and driving him wild. He feels out of control, like the room is spinning and Jimin’s kisses are going straight to Taehyung’s veins. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as Jimin licks hungrily at Taehyung’s neck. Jimin drags his blunt nails along Taehyung’s scalp, sending sparks down his neck and spine. “Please.”

“Please what,” Jimin pants, mouthing at Taehyung’s collarbones. “Tell me what you need, my wonderful Carmen.” 

It should be strange to be called by another name and yet, Taehyung shivers at the rasp in Jimin’s voice. Every single part of him is suddenly alive like his nerves are exposed to Jimin’s hands and mouth. Taehyung can’t remember the last time he felt like this with such simple touches. 

Perhaps never. 

“Fuck me,” Taehyung breathes. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Jimin smiles against Taehyung’s mouth. “Oh, I’ll fuck you.” 

A thrill goes through Taehyung as Jimin grabs him and slams him against the couch. His world spins and he’s suddenly facing the ceiling of the suite, panting and delirious as Jimin pins him down, littering his skin with bites and sloppy kisses.

Some of Jimin’s nipping hurts but it adds to the pleasure, Taehyung barreling straight into a slow, pleasured haze as Jimin pulls Taehyung’s shirt off roughly. Cool air kisses his flushed skin. Taehyung claws at the jacket on Jimin’s shoulders, pushing it off of him until he’s free of it, Taehyung’s hands seeking the flexing muscle of Jimin’s arms. 

Jimin’s hand goes to Taehyung’s throat. His hand is small but it squeezes pleasantly as Jimin kisses down Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung grinds up against Jimin, trying to relieve the pressure aching in his cock, a whine leaving his mouth. He feels Jimin’s breath across his skin as he laughs before fixing his mouth on a nipple, making Taehyung keen.

The stimulation is too much and not enough. It feels like Taehyung is ripping at the seams - burst at the seams from the pressure mounting inside of him. What has Jimin done to him to command his body? 

“Everyone can hear you,” Jimin teases, flicking his long, wicked tongue out to tease Taehyung’s already abused nipple. He drags his tongue across Taehyung’s chest, leaving a wet trail of spit as he goes. “Can hear you whining like a little whore. Is that what you want?”

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut as he feels Jimin’s teeth scrape against his other nipple. He nods his head, unable to form a verbal answer to Jimin’s question. 

“Hmm,” Jimin hums, tongue lashing. “Good boy. Let them know you’re mine. They’ll wait for us to have our fun before they start.”

Taehyung has no idea what that means. He doesn’t ask. Instead, his hands slip down Jimin’s stomach and under his shirt, touching his skin. Jimin is cool to the touch, his stomach muscles flexing under Taehyung’s inquisitive fingers. He grabs at Jimin’s hips, but his fingers slip away as Jimin sinks lower down Taehyung’s body, nipping and sucking as he goes. 

Opening his eyes, Taehyung watches with heavy lids as Jimin settles between Taehyung’s legs, looking up at him. His hair hangs in his eyes, which glint wickedly as his nimble fingers work the zipper on Taehyung’s pants. He can’t look away from Jimin, hypnotized by the movement, but the way Jimin grins and pulls open Taehyung’s pants, leaning forward to lick at the damp spot on Taehyung’s briefs. 

Taehyung’s head drops back and he moans loudly, feeling the pressure of Jimin’s wet tongue through the thin fabric. Jimin mouths at the crown of Taehuyng’s cock, sending jolts of pleasure straight to him. He grabs the back of the couch with one and presses his first to the mouth with the other, biting as he bucks his hips.

“So sensitive,” Jimin coos. His hands grab the top of Taehyung’s pants and the elastic band of his briefs and pull hard, making Taehyung yelp as Jimin unclothes him in one fell swoop. “Think you can take it?”

Taehyung nods quickly, making himself dizzy with the force. Jimin laughs and reaches out, gripping Taehyung’s shaft and pumping him slowly. Jimin’s touch is electrifying, Taehyung’s hips canting upwards to fuck himself into Jimin’s palm, head lolling to the side. 

Jimin spits loudly, coating Taehyung’s cock with spit, his hand gliding firmly to the base of Taehuyng’s shaft. “Just like that,” Jimin whispers. “Fuck yourself into my hand.” 

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice. He does so vigorously, chasing the feel of Jimin’s tight, wet fist and the cool feel of his skin. When Taehyung feels Jimin’s tongue kitten lick the tip of his cock, he clenches his teeth, slowly his wild thrusting to allow Jimin’s mouth to explore. 

It’s hard not to bust immediately. He feels his orgasm looming from the barest stimulation. Suddenly it’s like Taehyung is back in high school having his dick sucked for the first time, trembling and trying not to come as Jimin suckles the head of Taehyung’s dick, mouthing at it greedily. 

The room feels like it’s spinning. Taehyung cannot hear beyond the balcony. All he can hear are the wet sounds of Jimin taking Taehyung into his mouth, sucking generously, tongue brushing on the underside of Taehyung’s shaft. 

Jimin pulls off of Taehyung with a wet pop. “You taste so sweet,” he groans, tongue flicking against Taehyung’s frenulum. Taehyung feels wrecked already, sagging and boneless, unable to do anything against the onslaught of Jimin’s mouth. “Sounds so sweet, just like you sing.”

Slowly, Jimin drags his tongue south. He strokes Taehyung lazily with his hand, mouthing at Taehyung’s balls. Taehyung’s fingers feel like they’ll break as he grips the couch, overwhelmed by the stimulation, crying out, muscles squeezing, head spinning, blood roaring. 

“Such pretty sounds,” Jimin murmurs again, dragging his tongue upward. “Sing for me, my Carmen.”

A broken sob sound leaves Taehyung’s mouth as Jimin takes Taehyung to the back of his throat. The wet heat of Jimin’s mouth is an inferno, his throat tight and soft and oh god he’s swallowing. Taehyung lashes against the couch, hands shooting to Jimin’s hair as his throat constricts tightly around Taehyung. 

He feels the spit sliding down his shaft, his stomach so tight and his dick so hard he knows he’s about to come any second, every atom buzzing. 

“I’m gonna-” he can’t finish the sentence, shaking his head back and forth. His heart beats so hard in his chest he thinks he might die before he hits his peak. “Fuck, Jimin. Fuck fuck fuck.” 

Jimin redoubles his efforts. Squeezes Taehyung’s balls with his hand, letting Taehyung shove his hips forward, Jimin’s throat squeezing Taehyung until he’s coming hard. Jimin takes it in stride, swallowing down Taehyung’s cum. 

And he doesn’t stop. 

Taehyung’s hands start to push at Jimin. Tries to pull him off Taehyung’s cock, tries to scoot away. The pleasure morphs into overstimulation. It hurts so good that Taehyung is collapsing into the couch, kicking and bucking and crying as Jimin keeps going, his hand pumping, mouth sucking. 

If there is a god, there must be a devil. And if there is a devil, Taehyung knows that he is between Taehyung’s legs, working him to another orgasm somehow, driving Taehyung to madness as he goes. Jimin pulls off Taehyung’s dick with a sticky sound, moaning sweetly at the mess Taehyung has become. 

“You can take it,” Jimin coos. “I know you can. You said you can.” 

Taehyung nods. Tears sting his eyes and he tries to take a deep breath. He blinks his eyes open, watching as the ceiling swims into picture, a little blurry from the tears. He takes deep, shuttering inhales, his lungs rattling as he does. When he looks down at Jimin, he wishes he didn’t open his eyes. 

He almost doesn’t recognize whatever it is that is laving at his weeping cock. Jimin’s face is crueler somehow. More beautiful, but terrifying. Taehyung swears the veins around his eyes are darker and the scrape of his teeth is sharper. 

The orgasm must have made him delirious. It’s the only explanation, especially as Jimin works him hard again, Taehyung aching to explode once more. 

Jimin pulls off of Taehyung and crawls upward. Taehyung thinks Jimin looks like an apex predator for a single, terrifying moment. And then Jimin is kissing him, making Taehuyng’s thoughts turn to white noise as Taehyung presses his tongue into Jimin’s mouth, tasting spit and cum and something like iron and salt.  

Something pricks Taehyung’s mouth. He lets out a surprised sound, his mouth filling with a warm, metallic substance. Jimin’s kiss becomes frenzied. The force of it startles Taehyung, fear wiggling its way into his mind as Jimin presses down on him. 

Jimin becomes overwhelmed. A force that Taehyung cannot escape, completely trapped and helpless, still dizzy and uncoordinated from the overstimulation. It excites him. Taehyung realizes with mild terror that he likes this feeling, likes being overpowered and pushed to the edge. 

He lets Jimin suck greedily on his bleeding lip. He’s too focused on the ache between his legs and the mind-melting way Jimin makes him feel to realize that Jimin is hyper-fixated on his bleeding mouth. He kisses Jimin back as best as he can, though it’s more of a slide of lips and tongue than an intentional kiss. 

“Turn over for me,” Jimin grumbles. He’s already gripping Taehuyng and trying to turn him over. Taehyung struggles to make his limbs work but manages to flip, mostly due to Jimin lifting him and turning him, once again showing how strong he is. “Gonna work you open for my cock.”

A pathetic sound escapes Taehyung’s mouth. His cheek hits the soft velvet. It’s grounding, feeling the gentle scrape of it against his sensitive skin. His cock is pressed tight between his stomach and the cushions, but it’s less invasive than Jimin’s hungry mouth, a brief respite. 

Wet lips trail Taehyung’s spine as Jimin descends. Taehyung’s breathing is ragged and heavy, gulping down cool air as he trembles under Jimin’s rough mouth. He likes that Jimin doesn’t handle him with kid gloves. That Jimin keeps Taehyung to his word, driving him into a manic state. 

Taehyung still feels like he’s on the edge of that mania when he feels Jimin’s fingers slip between his ass, seeking. He flinches when Jimin brushes against his tight rim, the muscles clenching, afraid. Jimin laughs but doesn’t push it, instead peeling Taehyung apart to spit noisily. 

A gentle sigh drips from Taehyung’s mouth. He feels the spit slide, the sensation heightened. Jimin’s finger traces after it, circling Taehyung’s asshole lightly. His toes curl at the light stimulation. It feels good, but it’s hard to control the muscle's instinct to reject and contract. 

Jimin doesn’t seem to mind. He leans forward, his fingers pressed firmly in the seam of Taehyung’s ass, his mouth pressing butterfly-soft kisses to Taehyung’s spine. 

Taehyung feels like Jimin’s instrument. Jimin works him open slowly and gently, at ends with how he was driving Taehyung to madness minutes prior. The swing to gentle and soothing has Taehyung confused and reeling, his brain trying to keep up with the sensations tingling through his body. 

When Jimin slowly breaches Taehyung’s tight ring of muscles, he lets out a pathetic keen. Taehyung is too loose-limbed and fuzzy-brained to do anything but take it. The intrusion burns for a second, but levels out to be pleasurable. 

Cold liquid slides down Jimin’s fingers, easing the slide. Taehyung sighs, relief unfurling slowly as the burn goes quiet and all that’s left is the stretch and the pressure of Jimin working Taehyung’s walls open. Toe-curling pleasure sweeps through Taehyung. He bites his bottom lip, lifting his ass in small, half-hearted twitches to meet the push and pull of Jimin’s fingers.

“Mhmm,” Jimin encourages, teeth scraping Taehyung’s shoulder blade. His breath is cool on Taehyung’s warm skin. “Take what you want, sweetling. Open yourself up for me.”

It smells like sweat and orange blossoms, Taehyung’s skin covered in their mixed scents. His sensitive cock drags against the fabric of the couch, sparking pleasure and pain as he fucks himself into the palm of Jimin’s hand. Jimin’s fingers are small but do the job, pressing against the most sensitive parts of Taehyung, making his breath ragged. 

Everything feels like it’s on fire as Jimin pushes in another finger. Taehyung feels the wet schlick of lube or whatever Jimin has used to make the slide easier. He feels fuller, moaning like a whore as he chases the electric feeling under his skin, coming alive under the careful press of Jimin’s fingers. 

“So good for me,” Jimin whispers, biting Taeyung’s ear. His breath is hot against the side of Taehyung’s face. “Gonna take my cock so well, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck,” Jimin swears. “I can’t wait. This is what you do to me.”

Jimin pulls his fingers out. Taehyung complains, feeling the empty gape. Jimin shushes him and presses his clothed cock against Taehyung’s ass, letting him feel how hard Jimin is. Taehyung grinds his ass against Jimin’s crotch, making the other moan. 

A shirt flys past Taehyung. He realizes that it must be Jimin’s turning and angling his head to see the man in question. He is utterly divine, his compact body graceful and deadly, lined with muscle and delicate lines. Jimin undoes the belt of his jeans and pulls them down, palming himself over his briefs as he kicks out of his pants. 

Taehyung can’t help but stare, lips parted. Jimin is a vision, his face still masked in something lethal and terrifying that makes Taehyung excited and afraid all at the same time. The mixture is intoxicating, sending his thoughts somewhere distant and fuzzy where all he can do is watch Jimin pull his briefs down to reveal a thick, leaking cock. 

On instinct, Taehyung scoots toward Jimin. The other laughs, giving Taehyung a quick, harsh smack on the ass. His skin stings where Jimin’s hand connects, earning a whimper. Jimin tuts at Taehyung, fisting his cock leisurely as he does. 

“So needy,” he grumbles. “So hungry for cock. You’re just like Carmen, you know? Addicting, needy, breaking down my will to give you whatever you want. This must be how Jose felt, ready to give her everything. Pliable. So willing.” 

“And you? How do you feel?”

Jimin’s gaze is dark and heavy. Taehyung holds his breath, pinned to the spot. He feels Jimin’s cockhead nudge the tight rim of his ass as Jimin settles behind him, looking at Taehyung so intensely that Taehyung feels as though he will wither away. Ashes to ashes. 

“Like I want to give you the world.” 

“Please.”

“You have to give it back. You have to be mine.” 

Taehyung is nodding before Jimin even finishes his sentence. Taehyung will give him anything he wants, as long as it means Jimin will push forward and relieve the aching weight of Taehyung’s needs. He is filled with so much carnal desire he thinks he would do anything Jimin asks of him. 

“Yours,” Taehyung agrees. He tries to push back and spear himself on Jimin’s cock, but Jimin’s grip is iron, holding him in place. “Yours.” 

That’s all it takes for Jimin to sigh, pleased. He pushes in slowly, Taehyung gasping and grabbing the couch at the intrusion. His walls flutter around Jimin’s cock. It’s a tight fit, a slow, pleasure-filled agony that ripples through him. 

Taehyung is hyper aware of how full he feels. It is perfect, his mind turning to static as he lays his face down on the couch, breathing strained and heart hammering. Jimin praises him gently, coaxing Taehyung to calm down with gentle kisses on the back of his neck, shoulders, and head. Jimin is fully seated, his hips pressed to Taehyung’s ass. It feels good, the pain retreating and leaving nothing but bliss in its wake. 

Jimin pulls out, the rough drag of his cock sending Taehyung into a spiral before Jimin snaps his hips forward again. Taehyung lets out a desperate sound, feeling his eyes roll back into his head as Jimin starts to fuck him slowly. 

It feels hot. Jimin cages Taehyung in, his chest pressed to Taehyung’s back, humid air trapped between their bodies. Jimin’s skin is cool to the touch, such a contrast to the warmth radiating from Taehyung. The mix of hot and cold only heightens the sensations, everything feeling sharp and powerful. 

Jimin’s teeth scrape Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung doesn’t know why, but he leans his head to the side, giving Jimin free access to litter his throat with sloppy kisses. Taehyung feels broken under the weight of Jimin’s thrusts, the wet sound of his cock pushing deeper into Taehyung until it’s pressing against the deepest part of him, making Taehyung kick his feet as the pleasure builds.

It’s so good it hurts. Taehyung is reeling, having never felt like this when being fucked. Jimin chuckles darkly against his ear, tongue licking the shell of Taehyung’s ear before whispering, “You take it so well.” Taehyung whines in response, pushing his ass back to meet Jimin’s hips as best as he can. “Such an eager little slut. Everyone can hear you getting fucked - do you like that?”

Taehyung nods his head. Jimin grabs him by the hair, pulling Taehyung upward so that Jimin’s chin is slotted on Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung’s neck cranes painfully and he opens his eyes, looking at Jimin’s side profile. 

“I said do you like that?” 

“Yes!”

“Come here, let’s show them.” 

Everything goes off balance. Jimin picks Taehyung up off of the couch like he’s a ragdoll, spinning him so that his feet hit the ground and he’s pushed up against the balcony railing. He barely has the coordination to plant his feet on the ground and grab the railing before Jimin is pressing back in, splitting him apart for everyone to see. 

Taehyung casts his head back, eyes closed. He doesn’t want to look down, doesn’t want to see the faces of the onlookers as he moans loudly, feeling flushed and breathy as Jimin fucks him hard. Taehyung sees stars behind his eyelid, laying his head back on Jimin’s shoulders, his hands gripping the railing as Jimin hammers into Taehyung’s prostate. 

It feels like Taehyung’s blood is on fire. Something like glee unfurls in him at the thought of everyone below seeing how perfect he is for Jimin. That Jimin chose Taehyung and no one else. That Taehyung is the perfect, pliant partner for Jimin. He doesn’t want to see their faces - he’s too shy for now - but he silently revels in the fact that they’ll know from this moment forward that Taehyung is Jimin’s in some capacity. 

His mind hasn’t caught up to what exactly that capacity is, blinded by the way he teeters on the edge of coming again. 

“This is going to hurt at first,” Jimin whispers against Taehyung’s throat. 

There’s a brief moment of confusion. Taehyung is unable to think beyond the thick, heady haze clouding his mind, but then searing pain rips through his neck. His eyes fly open and he gasps, too shocked to scream properly where he feels blinding pain throbbing from the side of his throat. 

Taehyung’s hand shoots up to Jimin’s face, digging in his hair. Jimin’s mouth is pressed against Taehyung’s throat and it takes a moment for Taehyung to realize Jimin is biting him clean through the skin. 

Panic shoots through him. He clutches at Jimin’s hair, pulling tight at the strands to pull him off. Jimin doesn’t budge, his mouth fixed to the tender flesh of Taehyung’s throat. Then Taehyung feels Jimin’s tongue. The subtle pull of his mouth, the drag of his blood. 

The pain fades into something else. His neck tingles, fire replaced with numbness. Taehyung’s eyes flutter shut as a high unlike anything else hits him. Jimin is still fucking him, his pace picking up, his thrusts becoming savage as he takes deep swallows at Taehyung’s neck.

Taehyung is vaguely aware that Jimin is drinking his blood. He can’t process beyond that acknowledgement, too caught up in the euphoria glittering through his veins, turning his blood to molten lava. His head falls forward, too heavy for him to hold up, eyes closed and sinking into the feeling. 

His orgasm comes swift and hard. Every muscle in Taehyung’s body squeezes tight with a force he’s never felt. It feels like he might collapse in on himself, a star going supernova before it implodes, sucking everything inward. 

Jimin lets go of Taehyung's neck, gasping as he feels Taehyung squeezes his cock. The wet gurgle of a moan from Jimin’s mouth makes Taehyung turn and look at him. Taehyung is bent over the railing now, sweaty chest sliding back and forth as Jimin’s hips jostle him. Jimin is standing straight, his hands gripping Taehyung’s hips to hold him in place as he fucks him viciously, chasing his high. 

But what freezes Taehyung in place isn’t the powerful body driving him into overstimulation. It isn’t the beautiful, lithe lines of Jimin’s chest and arms or the beautiful way his eyes drink Taehyung in. It’s the blood running down Jimin’s neck and chest that startles him. The crimson smear across Jimin’s mouth, which is parted as Jimin tilts his head upward, tongue coming out to run across his bottom lip. 

A glint of white catches Taehyung’s eyes and his heart stops. Two fangs, stark against the wine-red mouth filled with blood - Taehyung’s blood. His heart skyrockets for a whole new reason and he tries to think but his mind is too slow. Sluggish. Still crawling through the high that Jimin’s bite injected him with. 

“Jimin?” it comes out slurred and terrified as Taehyung watches Jimin lower his face, eyes finding Taehyung. He still looks beautiful with the lower half of his face colored in blood, but he is terrifying, and destructive. Taehyung thinks he might die of fright even as his stomach flips with arousal again. “What…?”

“Look at them,” Jimin grins, mouth a red gash. He grabs Taehyung's hair and forces the boy to turn toward the scene below. “Look how they waited so patiently for me to start. To fuck, to feed. They waited for you - to come and bleed. They don’t indulge until you’re done, my sweet Carmen.” 

It takes several moments for Taehyung to piece together the tableau unfolding beneath him. What appears to be a mess of blurry images and sounds morphs into something else, the edges of his clarity sharpening as Taehyung blinks through the fog of pleasure. What he thought was going to be patrons looking up at the balcony as he’s ravaged is not at all the case. 

Below is unleashed carnal energy. He sees bodies writhing. Scarlet ribbons of blood flowing down necks, in between thighs, down shoulders. His eyes sweep the landscape of bodies fucking and thrusting and bending, of screaming of pinning down, of biting. 

Vampires. 

The word suddenly comes to Taehyung in a moment of clarity, the word ringing out so clearly in his mind that he jerks upward underneath Jimin’s grip. The vampires below chase the humans in the room. Taehyung realizes that all of the patrons dressed in finery are slamming people dressed in plain clothes to the ground and onto furniture, fixing their mouths on them, and ripping their shirts open. 

“Oh my god,” Taehyung breathes, finally breaking free of the murky mist of lust. “What are you?” 

Jimin presses against Taehyung, slamming his hips in deep one more time as he comes with a feral growl. His hands are tight in Taehyung’s hair and his mouth is rough against his ear. “I’m yours,” Jimin answers, voice low. “I’m José and you are my Carmen.” 

Dizziness sweeps over Taehyung, feeling like darkness is racing up to greet him. “Yours,” Taehyung agrees, slow blinking as Jimin’s teeth sink into his shoulder again. “Your Carmen.” 

-

PERMANENT TAG LIST: 

@wobblewobble822 @idkjustlovingbts @teddytaee @jknoah @veronawrites @bts-ruu @tumeperds @ashtonkeller @ivyrosewater @secfir @hoseokshobagi

Please note: typically I would reblog with my tag list, but this drop is scheduled while I am traveling and I am unable to reblog and tag, so I’ve just done it as part of the main body. 

[multiharlot]

cayendo // matt murdock x age gap!reader

summary: your husband takes a business trip to la

warnings: it's always the "my wife" guys...looking at you NED FULMER........i'm so sorry for this, lmao

i like feeling pain so uhhhh song inspiration is cayendo by frank ocean.

main masterlist || series masterlist || add yourself to my taglist!

you sighed as you sat next to your husband's half packed bag on your bed.

"what?" he asks, stopping after he places a t shirt into the bag.

"i just...why the suit?" you frown, and he just smiles, sitting next to you.

"hey, it's just in case. i'm literally going to defend my suit tailor from a vigilante. i might need it." he shrugs, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to your pouting lips.

you just groan, throwing yourself backwards onto the bed and flopping your arms dramatically above your head. matt laughs softly, shaking his head at your antics. he places the last item of clothing into his bag and pushes the bag off of the bed before laying right on top of you.

"you know i love you, yeah? and that i'll always come home to you?" he asks, leaning up on his forearms and pushing a few stray pieces of hair away from your face.

"yeah but-"

"no but's. you know that, right?"

"yes." you sigh, and matt smiles, placing his hand softly on your cheek.

"i'll be okay. it's just a week, my love." he says, your heart fluttering at how softly and delicately he spoke to you.

you closed your eyes, leaning your face onto his hand and letting out a soft breath before opening your eyes and smiling up at your husband.

"i love you"

"i love you more" he smiles, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips.

liar. liar liar liar.

it's all that ran through your head as you looked down at your phone, seeing pictures of daredevil and she-hulk flood your timeline. edits of them together and a video of your husband leaving an apartment building early in the morning with his shoes in hand. clearly doing the walk of shame.

you'd seen enough.

you throw your phone to the opposite side of the couch and just sit there, staring at the blank wall in front of you. you weren't really sure what to do. scream. cry. call him and yell. leave and never speak to him again.

you genuinely didn't know what to do.

your phone violently began to vibrate and ring, and you just sat there, letting it ring. letting the texts and calls pile up. undoubtedly foggy and karen calling you after seeing the news all over their timelines. but let's be honest, even if you did pick up the phone, you'd have nothing to say. what could you say?

your husband just cheated on you.

what in the world could you possibly say?

your thoughts were interrupted by violent knocking at your door. you took a moment to breathe before making your way to the door and slowly bringing it open, and you're face to face with your best friend, leanne. she stands there, slightly out of breath and her eyes fixed onto you, seemingly waiting for you to say something.

"what do i do?" you breathe out, your eyebrows furrowed as you stand there in front of her, still in disbelief.

"you do whatever you need to do. and whatever it is, i support you. need to leave? i'll pack your things. do you need to stay? we'll get comfy and we can talk through it. wanna set his stuff on fire? i'll grab the matches. need to disappear and change your identity? i know a guy. you tell me whatever it is you need right now, and we'll do it." she says firmly, walking into your home and shutting the door behind her.

for a moment, you just stood there, still in the hallway. everything around you felt like him. hell, you were wearing his clothes. and even in his betrayal, you'd never felt safer than when you were surrounded in these pieces of him. knowing that made part of you angry, but it also made part of you break more than you thought it could. the place where you felt safest is a place you didn't belong. a place you weren't sure you ever belonged in the first place. deep down you always kind of knew. you knew that you weren't really his...type.

you almost wanted to laugh at yourself.

a type. what a small menial thing in comparison to falling in love. who cares about an archetype when you're in love.

but deep deep down, and every now and then, very sparsely, the thought came into your head. you'd considered the women he'd loved. the hard headed type, fighting the world in their mini skirts and heels. the bold type. they were so outspoken and strong. physically and mentally. when they spoke, everyone turned their heads to look and listen. they captured the attention of a room full of people simply just by walking in. you'd admired it. admired them. but you also knew, that just wasn't you. and even though you knew that, you'd always figured it was dumb. it wasn't an insecurity so much as it was just....a known fact. you were his type breaker. but that didn't really matter because at the end of the day, he married you. he built a life with you. why would something as dumb as a type matter when he chose you to spend forever with?

but now, suddenly, types mattered. and while he was always yours, it's clearly evident that you were never his. wether he married you or not, at the end of the day, you just weren't his type.

"what's going on in your pretty head, huh?" leanne asks softly, coming up behind you, wrapping her arms around you and laying her head on your shoulder.

you didn't bother to answer. not wanting to burden her with everything going on in your head.

he was supposed to come home tomorrow. you'd counted down the days. but now, you weren't sure you wanted to be there when he got home and yet you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

*****

matt murdock didn't think it was possible for him to run this fast. as soon as the plane landed, he'd run out of the terminal gates about to flag down a taxi when he'd heard foggy shouting.

"HEY YOU GIGANTIC IDIOT GET IN THE CAR!"

for a moment, he'd considered walking instead. he'd rather suffer walking 20 miles back to his apartment than a 30 minute car ride with foggy, who was beyond pissed.

matt walked towards the car and foggy snatched his suitcase from his hand, quite literally throwing it into the backseat and slamming the door shut as he walked over to the drivers side.

"i'm not opening your door"

matt opened his mouth to speak, but he decided it was best not to. he slid his hand across the door before grabbing the handle and sliding into the passenger seat before sinking into himself. all he could think about was getting home to his wife. hoping and praying that she'd be there when he got back.

"why'd you do it" foggy asked, his voice cold and angry.

his tone was harsh and he was short with matt. rightfully so.

"i...i don't even know."

matt wasn't even sure why he did what he did. he'd just...slipped into his old ways, he guessed. he loved his wife. he loved you. you were everything he'd ever dreamed of in a woman. you two fit like a glove. complimented each other. your lifestyles complimented each other. so he didn't even know how it happened. he just knew that he was sorry, and he'd do anything to fix it.

foggy scoffed, shaking his head.

"you don't know? you don't know. great. that's just great, matt. so you did it for no reason then?"

"no. not for no reason i-"

"then what? huh? what fucking reason could you possibly have to cheat on your wife, matt? the woman who makes you elaborate lunches to take to work and- and- brings the entire office coffee in the mornings on the way to work? the woman who re-sews the buttons on your shirts with silk thread so they're more comfortable for you and who planned an elaborate beach honeymoon so that for once in your life you'd be able to experience silence? that's the woman you deiced to cheat on?"

matt didn't have an answer. he wish he did. any answer, even if it was an awful one. but he really didn't know why he did it.

"i just...got caught up in the moment. the adrenaline of it all-"

"the adrenaline of it all. okay. right. so do you just have sex with everyone you fight with out there? that a normal occurrence for you?" foggy sarcastically spit out.

matt almost physically winced at foggy's coldness. never in their many years of friendship had foggy been this angry at him. never had matt ever felt like foggy would give up on him. except for right now.

"fog i-"

"no. no you don't get to speak. you're gonna sit there, and you're gonna think about what you're gonna say to her."

and that's what he did. matt sat there, thinking about you. thinking about if you'd be there when he got home. how he'd fix this. he opened his mouth as he turned to foggy and dared to ask

"how is she?"

the question almost made foggy want to laugh. like...maniacally laugh.

"i dunno. her husband just cheated on her. i'd say not very good."

"is she...did she-"

"leave? no. but if you ask me, she should have."

deep down matt wanted to argue that face, but he didn't. he knew better.

"so she's still-"

"i said yes, matt. she's still at home."

matt sunk further into his seat, if that was even possible. and while he and foggy sat in silence, so did you. you were sat at the living room table, a cup of tea in your hand, your leg bouncing up and down in attempt to release your anxiety.

you looked down at your phone, and part of you didn't want to do it. you were sure you wanted to stay here. work through it. but the next thing you knew, you were running across the apartment, stuffing clothes into a bag with your phone tucked between your shoulder and your ear.

"y/n? are you okay?"

"no. i can't be here when he gets here. i need to go."

there was a moment of silence and then lianne's voice came through, harsh and determined.

"i'll be there in five."

taglist:

@multibishh @anothersworld @fuck-goes-on @Mrbillymontgomery @takeyour-pants-off @alexxavicry @eddiemvnsons @caseket @glowstick-lesbian @inas-thing @luvr-bunnyy @desert-fern @dvredevil-s-initivls @thychuvaluswife @drunkangels @nia_um @afootnoteinyourhappiness @slut4murdock

[liaarxse]

could u headcannons of what the tr characters would do if y/n did this trend with ken, nahoya, chifuyy, baji, kazutora?

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8131oTm/

(basically y/n walks away from them whenever they get close)

Nah, cuz it's 2am, and I'm cackling like a madman omfg this is amazing

<3 Here you go, anon:

Headcanons

How would TR characters react to you moving away from them

Characters: Ryuguji Ken, Nahoya Kawata, Matsuno Chifuyu, Keisuke Baji, Kazutora Hanemiya

Warnings: none

A/n: I literally have 40 history lessons to revise in 2 days, and I've gotten nowhere

Ryuguji Ken

Not this shit again

Draken is tired of your games

He had to deal with Toman, some punks, MIKEY and now you?

Kill him

Oops already happened

But he did this to himself

A few days ago he "accidentally" ruined one of your favourite dresses with motor oil and only said sorry

So sorry not sorry Dora

"Hey, Y/n? Want a glass of water?"

"Sure."

Perfect timing

He walked towards you to give you the water

You walked away

....

He took 3 steps forward

You took 3 steps backwards

Again

3 steps forward

3 steps backwards

You made 5 full circles around the couch at this point

"Not this shit again"

He went to sit down because man's tired of this

You felt bad and went to him

He turned to you before he sat down

"What?"

"Sorry, c'mere"

He went to hug you

You took a step back

BITCH

LMAOOOOO

Give him a hug pls

You did ofc

Until you could

I'm not sorry

Y'all spent the night just cuddling and talking about how annoying(ly hot) Mikey is

The next morning you did the prank again

He went back to sleep (and never woke up)

Nahoya Kawata

Who made you do this?

You lost your marbles?

LAST PERSON to do this prank on

But you still did

Stupid

Y'all were just chilling at a park

The sun was setting, giving the landscape a pretty peachy-golden tint

It reminded you of your boyfriend who was chasing squirrels behind you

Yeah, you pretended not to know him

He got tired and went to sit next to you

"What'cha starring at, babe?"

"The sun?"

"Ok"

He left to chase a squirrel that he claimed to look like you

Back to not knowing that person

It was getting pretty late, so you gathered y'alls stuff and got up to leave

He was carrying a dead squirrel in his hands

"Babe, look! I caught your doppelganger!"

"Oh, that's nice baby– MOTHER OF GOD–"

You didn't have a choice that fucker started chasing you with it

He lied that he threw it away

He didn't

Half way towards your house he fished it out of his pocket and shoved it in your face

You screamed and took like a fucking backflip backwards

He slowly walked towards you with his iconic grin obv

"Nahoya, no."

"Nahoya, yes."

"I'm gonna break up with you."

"I'll shove this up your ass while you sleep."

Y'all didn't break up ofc

That continued up until like 3 blocks to your house before he threw it inside a house through an opened window

The night at least ended peacefully

You had a nightmare where he did shove it in your ass

Matsuno Chifuyu

Why?

Like why?

Just why?

This happened while you were at a Toman fight

You got a call from Hina that your boyfriend got hurt

So you skiddadled to the place very quickly since you lived like 7 minutes away

It took you 30

When you got there, the fight had already ended

Your boyfriend noticed you and ran with an opened arm since his other was a tad bit injured

You took a step back

🤨

"Hey babe."

"Why did you do that?"

"Did what?"

He took another step towards you

You took a step backwards

He frowned

"Is it because my uniform is blooded? Wait, gimme a sec"

He took his top off

OOOOOHHH LAWDDDD HAVE MERCEYYYYYYYYY

THEM SCRUMPTIOUS ABS

bite bite

Lmao, who were you kidding

Get em tits

And you did baby gorl

Don't do this to him again though

Keisuke Baji

He just got back

And guess what

Another stray kitty was brought home

You lost count of how many Baji Jr. and Y/n Jr. cats you had

You smiled anyway since it's a kitty after all

"Yo bae, can you please fetch me some kitty clothes to dress up Y/n Jr.?

Ah this time it was you turn

You did of course

And when he walked over to you to grab the clothes

You saw something jump

Then again

And it hit you

Flees

You threw the clothes in his face and ran back

"What the hell?"

"Stay back."

"Why?"

He started walking towards you

You screamed

He was confused af still walking towards you

And you were walking back

This continued for like 7 minutes before you entered the kitchen

You grabbed bug spray

And sprayed him with it

He died

Jkjkjk

He was mad though

Ah, it's fine. You took care of it and cuddled with all 61 cats

Then you saw it again

You jumped out of the window

He jumped after you

Lmao you got flees too

Kazutora Hanemiya

This time, there was no specific reason

You were just watching tiktok with him, laying on your chest, trying to sleep

But he couldn't

This was Mikeys fault

"My wheenie needs to take a whee-whee."

"The mental hospital is 10 minutes away."

He got up and went to the bathroom

Then you landed upon the tiktok

Now this, this is perfection

He came back after like, 2 minutes

He crawled back in bed

You got up

"Huh?"

"What?"

He sat on the edge where you stood

You walked away

He walked towards you

"What are you doing?'

"What are YOU doing?"

You barely kept your laugh in when you noticed his face

"This is Mikeys fault isn't it."

"Tora no–"

You did like 6 circles around the room

You got bored with just staying in it and went to the door

He got in front of you and locked it

You stumbled back into the bed

"Baby...~"

HE SAID IT IN HIS HOT DADDY ENGLISH VOICE UGH

Oh-oh guess who's weenie has to take a wee-wee now

Lmao this surely will 'rearrange your guts'

If you know what I mean

[teawithnosugar]

Terrified Her

Toxic!Ellie x Chronically ill!Reader

CW: angst, Ellie is kind of toxic???, anxiety??? not the best depiction of a heart disease, open ending WORDS: 1.4k SYNOPSIS: Ellie is constantly pushing you away and your already weak heart can't take it anymore SONG: You're Losing Me - Taylor Swift

"I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy"

AN: not happy with how this turned out, still practicing after years of writer's block so feedback is appreciated <3

“My god- just fuck off for once!”

The words echoed in your ears like a piercing scream, shaking the fragile peace of your farmhouse. Barely a week had passed since your return from Santa Barbara, yet the tension between you and Ellie had grown unbearable. Each time those harsh words spilled from her lips, they struck your heart with the force of a jagged stone.

“We can’t keep going on like this Els, we need to talk about this, I can help you.”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears, and Ellie stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. She never strayed too far, merely pacing around the farm, choosing to sleep beneath the stars instead of finding solace by your side. So you retreated to the bedroom, sleeping alone once again. Silently, tears streamed down your face, just as they had during the treacherous journey to Santa Barbara and back. You had mastered the art of stifling your sobs and sniffles, not wanting to further upset Ellie. That was a mistake on your part, creating a barrier that held her back from comprehending the agony that her relentless quest for vengeance caused you.

The morning arrived, Ellie's absence was noticeable until you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. With puffy eyes, you cast a pointed glare at her as she walked into your home. You needed to let her know that this was wrong. But when she gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek and ever so casually asked what you were making, you almost crumbled then and there beneath the weight of her indifference or feigned ignorance of the profound anguish you bore down deep.

You held it together though, as always, and gave her a soft answer, afraid to use too much energy in speaking as it was already taking everything in you to keep it together.

“Some pancakes…it’s all I could make with what we have right now.”

She hummed in response, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind as you cooked. Resting her head on your shoulder, she seemed lost in thought, oblivious to how tightly she held onto you. Her embrace that used to comfort you greatly now suffocated you, literally. She was clearly still grappling with the events in Santa Barbara. Ellie had been frustrated for years, always yearning to seek revenge. Now that she was back home, she felt so alone, and that killed you because you were right there, begging for her to see you.

But now, you were softly begging for her to let go, wincing a little because her grip had opened a few stitches of wounds earned during your trip.

"Shit, sorry," she quickly let go, hurrying to retrieve the first-aid kit from the bathroom when she noticed blood seeping through your shirt. You turned off the stove and perched on the counter, patiently waiting for her to return.

You slipped your shirt off, to make it easier for you both. Once you got a look at the wound, only a few stitches had come undone but you took blood thinners due to the heart condition you had and it caused an excessive flow of crimson.

Ellie wordlessly positioned herself between your legs, tending to the wound with delicate hands and having to do very minor stitches. Her brows furrowed in worry and lips pursed in concentration, guilt filled her eyes as she adamantly avoided meeting your gaze.

In moments like these, you caught a glimpse of the Ellie you fell in love with all those years ago in Jackson—the one hidden beneath the walls you now saw, your Ellie.

Your Ellie, once so tender and serene, always playing your favorite songs and filling her notebook with drawings of you. Now her guitar sits silently in the corner, its strings wounded by her injury. And she had grown weary, devoid of the energy to birth new art. Whenever she opens her notebook, it's only to revisit old memories. Once, she left it out on the table, and it was hard not to notice the prominent tear stains that marked its pages, like a sad reminder of lost joy.

Even when she finished patching you up, she lingered before you, her presence marked by silence, her hands trembling ever so slightly. You couldn’t help but ask a soft “you okay Els?”

In an instant, her expression changed dramatically. She emitted a small, exasperated groan before abruptly leaving the room, a bitter remark escaping her lips, “I’m fine, stop fucking asking.”

You just closed your eyes, trying to steady the resounding heartbeat that you could hear in your ears. You swallowed thickly once you composed yourself, ignoring the pins and needles you felt on your forehead and fingertips.

You quickly abandoned the half-prepared meal and walked in front of her where she sat on the couch. You slipped on a shirt from a pile of clean laundry next to her. Silently, you stood before her, though she made it abundantly clear that she would ignore you, rolling her eyes and meticulously cleaning her already gleaming firearm.

“Ellie…please…we need to talk about this…I’ve been so understanding…let me into the pretty little head of yours.” You whispered softly, voice a gentle plea as you put a gentle hand on her hair, which she quickly swatted away as she rose from the couch.

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m fucking fine”

“You’re not fine!” You shouted, causing her to freeze because you never raised your voice at her before.

“Just…leave me alone Y/N…” she sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Are you sure you want me to do that? Cause if you want me to leave you alone, I’m going to fucking leave.” Your voice resonated with firmness, but your eyes begged her for any kind of communication, to tell you she wanted you there.

Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled to find the words she sought but all that left her mouth was a soft and pathetic “I don’t understand.”

“Clearly,” you muttered under your breath before shaking your head softly and sighing. “I’m getting tired Els, I’m here to help you. I’ve done nothing but fight by your side…so stop ignoring me…” You took a few steps closer to the brunette. Every step you took, a warmth blossomed within Ellie's chest, a familiarity she hadn't felt since Joel’s death. It absolutely terrified her, bringing back memories from when she had everything, reminding her of everything she had lost yet again, so she snapped.

You had no idea what she was shouting at you, and neither did she. She screamed at you words that she hadn’t even processed before they left her lips. You didn’t know when it happened but you were now standing, back against the wall as she pinned you, her arms enclosing you in as she spewed words she didn’t even mean.

Her glare alone caused you to instinctively shrink, your heart pounding so forcefully that all you could hear was the ringing in your ears. You wanted to tell her to stop, that you felt like you were going to faint, but you felt frozen on the spot.

You had a heart condition, a condition that demanded caution, and yet you followed Ellie across the country despite the dangers. But it was not the infected or violent people that quickened your heartbeat in an unhealthy manner; it was Ellie, right within the safety of your home. Ellie just had that effect on you

It’s only when you let out a strained cough, doubling over against her, did she finally realize the extent of her rampage and fell silent.

She immediately lowers both of you to the floor, cradling you in her arms.

You desperately tried to breathe and she did everything she could to help, holding your hand and whispering sweet words. She kept you close to her chest, trying to calm you down. As your breathing gradually steadied, absolutely drained, you closed your eyes, falling asleep in her arms.

Ellie fought back tears as she held you because she realized that while she mourned the losses she had endured, you had been silently mourning your relationship which wasn’t even over yet and that was all her fault. Her thoughts spun wildly, attempting to etch the feeling of your weight on her and your scent into her memory, unsure if you’d grant her such intimacy like this again when you wake up. That terrified her.

[half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk]

Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 11 !!!

Let's go batcherssss 🤟💕

The Bad Batch 1x07

pew pew Hunter in the gunner seat 🔫

sibling banter while being shot at 👌 so on brand for tbb

Technically ☝

Wrecker hits his head count: 8 😰

"That is one strange looking lizard" ~ is cid becoming self aware 👀

Hunter sensing Rex..... I am totally normal about this

"It makes the kid happy" 🥺

happy dances for mantell mix 🤲

Cid talking, Hunter Tech and Echo: 😠😠😠😠 (the fourth one is me)

lmao Rex in his strider era

"That's not her ugly side" 💀💀💀

REX REX REX REX REX

CID CALLED REX A STRAY 😡

JUST THE BOYS SITTING AROUND DRINKING CHEERS AND SMILIMG OML 😭🥲😍😭

the big Wrecker and Rex hug 😭 me if I ever met a clone (fun fact I met Temuera Morrison and I'm still not over it 😭)

aww Rex bending down to meet Omega he so polite 🥺

vs Omega: HA OLD MAN 💀

Rex is so scared about the chips i hate it here

Rex has ptsd 😭 screaming crying

Wreckers nervous foot taps 🥺

BRACCA CAL KESTIS 👀

Omega: 'he's not gonna cut open my head' Wrecker: 'seems unfair'

Omega being Tech's translator

the boys trusting rex with their lives literally

Jedi fallen order music??? 🤔 a little bit???

ALL THE BOYS TOGETHER IN THEIR ARMOUR 🥲 tcw days

FIVES FIVES FIVES FIVES FIVES FIV-

Echo: "Omega." Rex: "the kid?" no Rex the other Omega

Rex teaching Omega about the venator 🥺

lmao now Wrecker's calling Rex old

Tech being aware of Hunters senses 🥺 I am just so completely normal about this whole episode I swear

aww Wrecker crawling across the beam he's literally so brave 💕

REX TELL ECHO AHSOKA IS OKAY PLEASE IM BEGGING 😭

Rex helping Omega down from the cable with "nicely done" i can picture his face under that helmet 😊

Omega cheering Wrecker on 💕

PULL HIM UP BOYS 💪even Echo was pulling one handed 🥲

Omega's hand on Wrecker's arm 🥺

Rex: "this will do nicely" Tech: ew no thanks Rex: bet lets go home Tech: "this will do nicely" 💀

again with the chip activating more each time they hear 'order 66' - Wrecker seems to get worse the more they talk about it

Omega checking on Wrecker again 😭

Omega's nervous hands againnnn 😭😭

Hunters hand on her shoulder

Rex's smile watching them together 🥺 so big brother shaped

"very few clones were immune to o66" YOU MEAN THERE WERE MORE??? WHO ELSE???

Wrecker is shaking the entire time until the chip fully activates and he's immediately still 🙃

Rex got a stun shot off as Wrecker hit it away!!!

Hunter picking up Omega and covering her head 🤲

they had that planned so well - attack from all sides

then Wrecker threw Echo by his head 💀

Hunter getting a piggy back 😂

the last thing Hunter saw before Wrecker knocked him out was Omega standing there with the blaster 🙃

"this isn't you Wrecker... I'm your friend" 🥲🔫

Omega was ready to shoot him 😫

Wrecker fought the chip so hard 🙃

Rex saving the day 💕

Rex really had no idea how to remove the chips he just hoped for the best fr

Tech: "he is alive" BRO

"I'm staying until he wakes up" ~ Omega x2

Rex looking at his helmet 😭

Hunter and Tech sleeping waiting for Wrecker

Wrecker's hand on Omega's head 🥺

"Oh. You made it" Techhhh 😂

Tech's shaved head !! his smile when he touches his head !! Echo pointing to his own head !!!

Where is Hunter's shaved head 👀

Omega's hand on Wrecker's cheek 🤲

Wrecker: "I tried as hard as I could" me: trying as hard as I can not to cry

Omega brought mantell mix 🥲

REX IS TALKING TO WHO 👀

Hunter: "the republic's gone Rex" Rex: "not all of it" SCREAMING SHOUTING BACKFLIPPING OFF MY COUCH

the arm grabs 👀

Rex walking into the fog like a dramatic Skywalker

oop scrappers 👀

ayy I have no power so I was supposed to post this earlier lmao 🙃

hehe I am a complete mess about this ep fr I apologise lolol 💕

[tsunami-of-tears]

ACOTAR ships as Taylor Swift Songs

There are so many possible interpretations, I may have taken these super literally. I would love to hear your thoughts on my choices or if you have different ideas! 

Feysand - Long Story Short THE SHOE REFERENCE TOO?? Long story short, it was a bad time / Pushed from the precipice / Clung to the nearest lips / Long story short, it was the wrong guy / Now I'm all about you Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky / And he feels like home / If the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go Long story short, I survived

Nessian - The Great War CRIMSON. BATTLE. ANGSTY ANGST. All that bloodshed, crimson clover I vowed not to cry anymore / If we survived the Great War

Elucien - Exile  All this time / I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind) / I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around) / 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

Gwynriel - Willow I imagine Gwyn singing this to Azriel I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night / Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife Show me the places where the others gave you scars (!!!!!!!!) The more that you say / The less I know / Wherever you stray / I follow / I'm begging for you to take my hand /

Feylin - The Archer Obviously. I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost / The room is on fire, invisible smoke / And all of my heroes die all alone / Help me hold onto you I've been the archer / I've been the prey / Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? / But who could stay?

And finally, 

Rhysand + the Inner Circle - Slut!  Not a ship but I had to 😭😭 And if they call me a slut / You know it might be worth it for once

[transhuman-priestess]

This one is a little different than other things I've posted before. It's short, it's not horny, it's a bit surreal. I wrote it a while ago, but I've never posted it here. This one came out of my head at a very stressful time in my life and it's largely a pastiche of what I was going through at the time. It's not literal, but you'll understand.

There's no sex (though masturbation is mentioned) in this one but there is a lot of explicit, semi-realistic gore mentioned. This is your warning.

If You Prick Me, I Shall Bleed

I was walking down the street last week when a stray bullet struck me in the right shoulder. The 5.56mm round struck the top of my right shoulder blade, shattering it into several large pieces and bouncing up and into my clavicle before exiting horizontally through my skin. Blood poured everywhere.

As I screamed in agony one of my fellow pedestrians on the corner of Chavez and Belmont looked over at me. “Uh, Ma’am,” He said, disgust evident in his voice. “Would you mind not bleeding all over me?”

I managed to regain self control and through clenched teeth and flowing tears I sputtered, “I’m sorry, my bad.” My blue uniform was now a dark purple. I grabbed several copies of the Falun Gong’s free newspaper from the dispenser a few feet away and pressed them to my gushing wound.

The light turned green and as I crossed the street a white woman in her late 40s with a “Choose Life” shirt on tapped me on my uninjured shoulder. I turned around and she said to me “You should sue, you know.”

“Who should I sue?” I asked, “It was random gunfire. Also I can’t afford a lawyer.”

“You should sue the city, it’s going to hell!” Her eyes drifted down from my face to my shirt pocket and fixed upon my trans flag pin. Her expression changed to one not unlike you might see on someone who’d just stepped barefoot in dog shit. She turned and walked away and once she got about 10 feet away I swore I heard her say “Fucking faggot.”

I made it to work, my shoulder mercifully having clotted. My boss was talking to the receptionist as I walked in. He stood up and looked me up and down before checking his watch. “You’re late.” he said, “You were supposed to be here 3 minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, before gesturing to my shoulder. “I got shot. I’ll be fine.”

“You got shot? Christ. That sucks. I’m sorry but we’re really short-staffed today.”

“I said I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” He said, now browsing something on his phone.

“I just need to make it clear I can’t afford to send you home.”

I walked past the reception desk and through the “Employees Only” door and sat down at my cubicle. The first challenge of the day was to figure out how to use the mouse on my computer with a shattered right shoulder. I tried just moving my arm as normal but the tenuous newspaper-filled clot started bleeding again and a bit of what I’m pretty sure was my collarbone fell onto the desk. My boss picked that moment to walk by. He glanced at the bloody chunk of bone on the desk and shouted, “God dammit, Danner, your cubicle is disgusting. I’m gonna have to write you up for this.”

“But sir, I-”

“But nothing, Danner,” He said, “It is very clear in the employee handbook that all workspaces must be kept clean.”

“I got shot”

“I don’t care if you got shot, you need to be more responsible.” and with that, he walked off to go yell at Collins for something or other.

After another 10 minutes of trying in vain to make my right hand work with the mouse I used my left to pick it up and, with some difficulty, managed to change the settings to left-handed use. I found that I was mostly competent at typing one-handed, and for several hours things were almost normal, except for the occasional bit of blood-soaked bone falling out of my shoulder.

I decided to work through lunch and around 2pm I went and used the company account to buy some more toner. About 10 minutes after that, my boss came back. “Danner, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Huh?” I asked, confused

“Why did you just put in an order for 6 toner cartridges? We only needed 5.”

“Oh,” I said, slightly relieved that it wasn’t something I’d get fired over. “I meant to hit 5 but I must have hit 6 by accident. I’ve been having to type one-handed cause of the shoulder thing.”

His eyes narrowed, “You’re fired, Danner. Security will clean out your desk. Go home now before I call the cops.”

“What?” I said, alarmed, “What did I do?”

“Wasting company funds is serious business, Danner.”

“I got shot,” I protested, “and this is a tiny mistake.”

“Well you should have called off then.”

“You told me you couldn’t spare me.”

“That’s not my problem. If you weren’t capable of doing your duties you should have called off.”

“You would have fired me.”

“That’s not my problem. Get out before I tear you a new asshole.”

I walked to the door, and as I left I heard my boss say, “And the cost of cleaning your cubicle is coming out of your final paycheck.”

An hour later I made it home, having somehow managed to drive stick left-handed. I walked in the front door to see my boyfriend, Jim, sitting on the couch, masturbating.

“Oh, hi, Sara.” He said, not looking away from his computer screen, “you’re home early”

“I got fired.” I said, before breaking down and sobbing.

“Oh, hon, that fucking blows.” He’s still jerking his dick up and down like he’s shaking a can of spray paint.

I lay on the floor writhing in pain and my whole body convulsed even more with the sobs of humiliation and despair.

Finally, Jim looks up. Our eyes met, and with a sweet expression of pity in his eyes, he said, “Can you keep it down, babe? You’re killing my boner.”

[reverie-starlight]

Omg! I just found you!! You wrote that piece about Atsumu always picking you first, and it was so cute!!! It made my heart all warm and fuzzy, and I can't wait to see what else you write!! I was wondering if I could join your 200 event??? If so I was thinking Home by Edith Whiskers and Atsumu. Idk why, but the song just screams him. If not pls ignore the last part and have a great day!

You’re so sweet!!! This ask literally made me smile so much ily :(

and this song absolutely DOES FIT HIMMM UR SO RIGHT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ain’t nothing please me more than you. oh home, let me come home. home is wherever I’m with you.”

atsumu absolutely loved his career. he’s made a name for himself, broken records, set goals and continuously achieved them… he was living his dream. but if he had to name one thing he hated about being a professional athlete, it would be the distance it put between you and him.

when he was away for games and you weren’t able to come with him, phone calls, facetiming and texting were all you could do to keep each other somewhat satisfied.

some nights were okay, you kept each other laughing and smiling, and for however long the call lasted you were able to distract each other from the hurt of being apart. in those moments you were the only ones who could do that for the other. no one else could make the ache go away.

other nights were particularly bad. when the longing was stronger and the need to hold each other got to be too much, your calls often turned teary and vulnerable.

“i miss ya so much, y/n,” he sniffed into his hoodie sleeve. “i wish i could come home already.”

you tried to reassure him that his trip was almost over, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like crying too. it just didn’t feel like home without him. “i miss you too, tsumu. but it’s only three more days until you’re you’re back. i can’t wait to see you.”

he gave you an appreciative smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“here, why don’t we talk about what we’ll do when we’re together again instead of focusing on the fact we’re apart?”

this time his smile did reach his eyes as he wiped away a stray tear and pushed his hood back. his hair was a little messed up, his nose was still runny and he looked visibly drained, like anyone would after crying, but you only felt more in love with him.

and three days later, when he was finally in your arms again, holding onto you so tight, he was struck with a realization. 

“ya know before i met ya, i never really got homesick?”

that in itself was sweet, and it tugged on your heart a bit, but you could tell he wasn’t finished so you stayed silent. 

“like, whenever i used to say i missed home i really just missed the comfort of my apartment compared to the hotel rooms. but never to the point of it bein’ more than i could handle. i got used to it, i guess. and my mom and samu. but less so cause i was living my dream and i knew i’d never lose their support. and obviously i still miss ‘em a lot when i’m away, but... it’s different.”

“how so, tsum?”

“now when i say i miss home i’m not talkin’ about my apartment. i’m talkin’ about you. yer my home. that’s why i don’t get homesick when ya come with me. we could literally move to the other side of the world and i think i’d still be fine because home is wherever i’m with you. you are my home, y/n. i’ve never felt more comfortable with anyone in my life. it’s the same level of comfort i feel on the court but in a different way. and like, we can function just fine separately but bein’ apart just doesn’t feel right.”

you looked at him with tears in your eyes. he had put everything you were feeling into words. “you’re my home too, atsumu. this apartment doesn’t feel like home until you walk in. i love you more than anything.” it wasn’t exactly as deep or poetic as what he had come out with, but he held you closer to him and kissed you like it was. because he clearly understood you. 

the rest of the night continued on with an unspoken agreement that you had both definitely found your person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he’s literally the love of my life, i had sm fun writing this!! ty for participating and hope you enjoyed <3

please consider reblogging or commenting!

[irlcats-bracket]

Bracket 5 Round 2 Poll 6

Cloudtail vs Blackie

descriptions and catpaganda (new for blackie!! like real new) under the cut

CLOUDTAIL

Yes named after the warrior cat. He’s deaf and meows and screams like the world is ending. Extremely sociable cat and a very good boy. He doesn’t like being pet but he will sit next to you and follow you through different rooms.

BLACKIE

This is Blackie, submitter's little one-eyed wonder. He lost his eye to glaucoma quite a few years ago, but he's doing a lot better now, and still likes to play with his sister, Artemis. His name is Blackie because that's what the shelter named him and submitter's family couldn't agree on a new name for him so it stuck, but submitter themselves call him 'Big Boi' because of just how massive he is. He was once very timid, but with time and love and patience he is now a certified lap cat who will come right up to strangers to demand pets. He has a wonderful squeaky meow and when he purrs it sounds like two cats purring at once. He likes to have people watch him eat and he will guide submitter's mom over to the couch and make her lay down just so he can sleep in her lap. Also, when he lays on his back, he covers his belly with his tail. Pictured is him in his signature polite boi sitting pose

CATPAGANDA

BLACKIE

Assorted Blackie facts:

A brave man when it comes to thunderstorms. But the vacuum? His mortal enemy.

The friendliest cat at the shelter. But the staff forced me to pick him up and hold him to get a picture and he got terrified and peed on me.

We think, based on how he acts, that he may have grown up in a home with dogs. But the mark on his ear is one done by our local neuter and release program, so we don't know if he was a stray, an outside cat, etc. But he's one of the friendliest cats I've ever met.

Will go up to his sister and put his head down to get it licked. But as soon as she goes to lick him and flattens his ears and raises a paw like he's gonna hit her. Sometimes they fight and sometimes they just walk away. We don't think he's trying to trick her because he acts genuinely confused throughout this process.

Sometimes he uses his back paw to scratch the back of his front leg when he's sitting down and it's so cute <3

These are old photos from when I used to hold a camera down and snap a photo when they leaned in to sniff the lens.

Blackie is our older cat and is such a gentleman. He is eager to love, he does the quickest slow blinks I've ever seen from a cat. He has a two-layered purr, it literally sounds like a cat purring as popcorn is being made in the background. He lost his eye to glaucoma when he was younger but he runs around and plays and teases his sister Artemis like a kitten. And his eyebrow whiskers grew down over his missing eye! He's not a big fan of people food but he has a fondness for pizza crumbs (NOT the crust. Just the crumbs off the plate when you're done eating the pizza). He walks like he's gingerly stepping through flowers and he's so gentle that the one time I overstimulated him and he wanted to bite me, he just shoved his closed mouth against my hand. He has a super long tongue and if you scratch the right spot between his shoulder blades he will lick the air. He's my precious boy who started out so scared but he's so brave and social and happy now just typing this out makes me wanna cry and go give him scritchies.

[lunarsun12]

Felix Missing Brownies

Masterlist

Felix was making brownies strangely in the afternoon, where he assumed everyone will be not at home. Except he forgot it was the weekend and everyone is here and as well Changbin annual visit home.

Everyone was stoked when they saw Felix brownies on the counter. Until Han had made a discovery that someone has been stealing all of the brownies and keeping for themselves.

Who is the brownie thief be?

Back At Stray Kids Chat

Today 17:00

Changbin🙄: HEY WHAT ABOUT SAVING ME A PEICE LIX!

Felix☀️: Im pretty sure, I saw you eating it

Hyunjin🕺: Binnie, you ate one! Stop guilt tripping Lix! That’s my job

Changbin🙄: Worth a shot..

Seungmin🐶: We made a rule! We only allowed to have two pieces. Due to last year brownie war! If there is a piece left! Well you snooze or lose

Han🐿️: Maybe it could Appa and Eomma?

I.N🦊: Appa definitely no! He always sneak some piece for me but eomma questionable

Lee Know🐱: What Lix made brownies?

Lee Know🐱: How could it be me! I was helping the kids at the nursery and that person was there!!

Bangchan🐺: Kids, let me teach how to be humble when you lose and don’t be like your Eomma

Changbin🙄: Teach Hyunjin that! He is never humble when it comes to his looks

Hyunjin🕺: You don’t understand fashion

Han🐿️: HOLD ON! WE HAVE A THEIF! SOMEONE STOLE THE LAST PIECE. I JUST SAW IT 3mins ago!!

I.N🦊: I don’t steal, it’s bad!

Han🐿️: Somone has been secretly stealing Lix’s brownies without our knowledge! I was counting who is taking how many pieces

Han🐿️: Each time, I gone to the bathroom! So many pieces were gone!

Bangchan🐺: Have you been sitting in the living room all this time…

Han🐿️: Yea and Appa get a grip on Sana, she won’t kill you

Bangchan🐺: How did you know?

Han🐿️: Welll…i was bored as someone still talked about me leaving the house

Bangchan🐺: Soon soon let’s deal with this first

Lee Know🐱: That not my problem! I’m gonna play with my cats

Seungmin🐶: it gotta be Binnie, that such a binnie move! Stealing food!!

Changbin🙄: ITS NOT ME! ONE TIME I CAME HOME AND HYUNJIN LITERALLY TOOK ME TO HIS ROOM FOR A MAKEOVER

I.N🦊: That what was all the screaming all about…

Changbin🙄: He started to pluck my eye brows saying it’s too bushy

Hyunjin🕺: I like to see you in pain, your eye brows are fine!

Han🐿️: My squirrel sense something…

Changbin🙄: It could be seungmin! He acts all fair, he could stealing in secret!!

Hyunjin🕺: He has a point! Never trust that innocent face

Seungmin🐶: You idiots, I always leave the book tally how many brownies I ate! As I know Han always keep on eye on it

Han🐿️: I FOUND THE CULPRIT! I SAW BRONIES CRUMVS LEADING FELIX ROOM!!

Han🐿️: FELIX STOLE THE BROWNIES!!

Hyunjin🕺: No wonder he is quiet and I heard singing when I walked past his room

I.N🦊: Lix! What about sharing is caring? Is like your motto!!

Seungmin🐶: Lix bro, I’m disappointed

Felix☀️: I’m sorry!! I had steal the brownies as I never get to eat it and share it with my friends!! Sooo I decided to steal it, so I can eat some for myself

Felix☀️: As well stop making my Appa I mean friend sad when I can’t deliver

Lee Know🐱: Lix maybe I should make my slav- I mean doing more housework. That will teach you some respect

Bangchan🐺: Touch my sunshine child, I will tell Han your secret!

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hi love! I haven’t been online for a hot sec but the scream I SCRUMPT when I saw that Dogs: Bullets & Carnage was still available for the au prompts!!! I’m literally down for any headcanons and any AUs with the lovely characters because I don’t know anyone else that knows of it so I want to say pick your poison 😭😭 but if I must choose one for the event, maybe a coffee shop AU? The characters have been through too much I just need an AU where they get to experience soft cozy vibes instead of whatever’s going on in canon 🫶🏻

Thank you so much for your time and thoughtfulness in penning your work for us! Please feel free to pick any other available AU if it strikes your inspo more than this one. Tbh foaming at the mouth for any thoughts about our beloved stray dogs howling in the dark… 🤍

Okay, so I admit that this is no longer on my fandom list. It's been a while since I've revisiting the manga and there really wasn't much interest in it, so I did remove it. However, I love coffee shop/cafe au's, I do love this fandom, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to write this! Thank you so, so much for sending this in and, though they are late getting to you, I really hope you enjoy the headcanons!

In a very complete change of pace for me, I gotta say that I agree so hard with the asker for this one. This needed to be a soft, peaceful AU. Something very fluffy and very slice of life, and that's how I'd write it out as a story. There's no big over-arching plot, really, everything is very character-driven and there's no intrigue, no mystery, no real big angsty elements. Any angsty elements are there as backstory for some characters or are things happening in character's lives (because everyone has bad days and troubles, that's just reality) and they always find comfort and support among either the cafe's staff or the regular customers, as I do see everyone who frequents the café and those that work there really becoming a sort of surrogate family for each and every single one of these characters. The café is everyone's safe spot to land, even on the bad days, so the angst is very much mitigated and not used, since character and healing, growth, peace, bonds between people and found family would, again, really be the basis and focus of this story.

Now, I know Angelika really plays a large role overall in the manga but in this AU, her role is really that she was an adoptive mother to Heine, Giovanni, Lily, and now is an adoptive mother to Luki and Noki. She was, for all extents and purposes, a very abusive mother, physically and mentally, and Heine in particular blames her for the childhood death of his adoptive sister. Heine's had no contact with her for years and Giovanni's constant excuses and sticking up for her is the reason there's a large rift between the two men. Angelika really wants Heine back in her life, but she doesn't know where he relocated to or anything and she does try to use Giovanni to find out, which does become a major character plot point for Giovanni at one point. He's found Heine working at the café and because of other things that happen in the story, there's starting to be signs of a reconciliation between the two brothers, and in his first real step towards independence, Giovanni refuses to tell her where Heine is and pretends that he could never find him and starts to pull away from Angelika too, leaving her really largely written out of the story after that.

So, let's start with the café itself. It's not insanely popular to be honest. It's a small, slightly out of the way coffee-shop that serves small meals and baked treats but everyone who goes there tends to become a regular. Not only is the coffee actually the best around (the owner roasts the beans and creates the blends himself), and the food is superb, but there's just something slightly magical about the place. You walk in and automatically feel just…at home. Comfortable. Those who really have nowhere else to spend their days will find they can go in and spend the whole day there, even if all they order is a single coffee, without anyone getting upset, and that they'll always find a willing ear to talk to in either the staff themselves or the other patrons.

Above the café proper are four small studio apartments. Three of them are 'rented' to the cafe's full-time staff members. Honestly, the owner has a soft spot for people who are down on their luck, people with no real homes to go to or no real support systems in place. He takes each of the three full-time staff members in, gives them gainful employment and tells them that he'll take 10% of their paychecks off each pay in exchange for rent and they can live in one of the studio apartments. And honestly, I don't know why, maybe because it is such an oddly sweet idea, but I don't see him using much of that 10% for his own gain - it goes either back into the café itself or he uses it for the not too rare occasions when he'll show up at one of his staff's doors with either a meal, a bag of groceries, some piece of furniture he knows they'll need, sometimes a new piece of clothing. Yeah, some of it, like the clothing and furniture, might be second-hand, but it's all very appreciated.

And who is this owner I keep talking about? I really see Mihai as the owner of the café. He works there day to day just like everyone else and I really see him becoming a sort of surrogate father figure to not only his staff, but some of his regular customers. A well-meaning man, his past is largely unknown, though he admits to having lost a son and a lover at some point. Maybe that's why he's so keen on taking in 'strays', as the staff like to jokingly refer to themselves as.

While the café does make a modest profit, nobody quite knows where a lot of Mihai's money comes from. One of the staff members, Badou, helps with the bookkeeping, and he did notice that Mihai is not the full owner of the café. There's a silent partner who put up a good chunk of the investment in the place, someone named Ernst Rammsteiner. Nobody's ever seen him or heard his voice and they get no answers on that particular subject from Mihai and it becomes sort of a theory and running joke that maybe Mihai has mob connections or something and the shady co-owner is the head of a Mafia or other outlandish theories.

Who is Ernst Rammsteiner, in all honesty? Truth is, all the staff members do actually know him. The priest at a local church, everyone just knows him as 'Bishop'. He's the cafe's most frequent customer and becomes a friend to all the staff and a fair number of the customers. He doesn't insist on 'confession' being only a thing done inside the church walls…he'll hear confessions, or even people's worries and laments, sitting across from them at a café table just as well as he'll hear them sitting in a confession booth. His church is also very well known for hosting not only community dinners, where he'll hire the café to provide coffee, tea, and such for the meal, but for holding a number of weekly support groups. He also hires the café to cater these support groups, providing coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and pastries for the people who attend.

I really like the idea of these support groups actually being a fairly important thing in the story, because part of peace and happiness is finding healing, support, and growth. It's through catering and observing and learning about these support groups, maybe quietly observing one here or there, that a couple of the characters grow to feel comfortable enough, especially with the help of Bishop, with attending these groups. First Heine, and then Giovanni as well, attend a support group for those who suffered childhood abuse or trauma, and that group, along with the interactions at the café, are what really allow them to sort of heal some and start the steps towards mending their broken brotherhood, even if it's still slow-going. Badou and Naoto attends a grief support group for a while, where they sometimes even find Mihai himself, really learning how to heal after the death of important people in their lives (Badou's brother and Naoto's foster father).

Where did Bishop's money come from to support the café as he does? That's a secret not even Mihai knows…he just knows that, despite how long he's known the other man, Ernst remains an enigma, a complete mystery.

Now, I'll get into the staff members, but because I don't have as many ideas for some of the customers, I'll list the ones I do have.

In my mind, Daniella, Doug, and Mimi are all frequent customers with their own little struggles, lives, and things going on that affect the story here and there but not hugely overall.

Kiri is also a regular at the café and the owner of a really successful restaurant in the town. Everyone thinks there's something romantic going on between her and Mihai, as they spend a fair amount of time together and Kiri does a lot for the café. They both advertise each other's businesses, and the café has a thirty stamp coffee card where, once you fill it up with all thirty stamps (stamps given whenever you buy something), you get a free meal from Kiri's restaurant (menu selections limited). In much the same way, customers at Kiri's restaurant get a little 'free coffee' card valid for the café with their bills. It helps bring a lot of business for the café, to be honest, because most coffee lovers, as mentioned, tend to keep coming back once they've tasted the brew of the day.

Both Campanella and Magato are customers at the café. They both are surprised to see Naoto working there and, much like the others have people they refuse to serve, Naoto as first makes one of the others wait on them and refuses to leave the kitchen area until they're out of the café. Everyone knows there's something there in their past with Naoto, and I do see part of her story being really exploring that, her coming to terms with her pasts with these two and learning how to forgive, how to move forward, either in not speaking to them or in beginning to take the steps into having relationships with them again.

Me mentioning that each member of the staff seems to encounter someone that they just can't bring themselves to serve? That's Richter for Badou and Badou makes no secret of why. He blames the man for his brother's death…it's through the story, finding a new family, healing some of his grief, finding ways to continue in life, that Badou finds a way to at least forgive Richter. Not for the other man's sake, but for the sake of himself. It's when Badou has reached that point but also acknowledged that he wants Richter to play no part in his life that Mihai, encouraged by Ernst, accepts that Badou is in the best place he can be and bans Richter from the establishment.

As mentioned, Giovanni frequents the coffee shop. He stumbled across it randomly one day, he did not know Heine worked there. When I say Heine can't deal with him at first, I mean it. There was an actual physical brawl between the two that Mihai and Bishop had to break up before other customers called the police. Giovanni didn't get banned though and so he keeps coming back every day, sometimes multiple times a day. I think, in his own way, he really does care deeply about Heine and just kind of wants his brother back into his life while also still blaming Heine a little for Lily, because he's so deep into the FOG with his adoptive mother. However, even deep in the FOG, he never mentions the café to Angelika, and even though he's a good big brother to Luki and Noki, and they always ask to go with him on his running around, he never brings them to the café, steers clear of even taking them within a five block radius of it, simply because he doesn't want to risk them exposing Heine's location to Mother. And like mentioned, I think Giovanni starts to find friends, starts to find others who will listen, in the café itself and then in the support group and I think a large part of his character growth through the story would be him just taking steps to become an independent man outside of his family, along with the baby steps he and Heine make in becoming closer to each other and potentially having that brotherly relationship again.

Now, as you can imagine, the three full-time staff members, the ones who live above the café, work around there, really start to grow roots there, are Badou, Heine, and Naoto. Badou is the friendliest of the three of them and he's almost always running the till, doing a lot of the customer service work. His most annoying work habit? He takes frequent smoke breaks, but at the same time, it's during those smoke breaks that he really gets to learn and befriend a lot of the casual customers, turning them into regulars more often than not and really establishing bonds in the community.

Heine always wears gloves because he really can't stand to touch most people. I do think, throughout the story, we see him make some progress there, allowing select people to touch him or taking the gloves off around them. He's a very attractive man and is a draw for a lot of the heterosexual women who frequent the café but he never really does customer service work because he's also very, very bad at talking to people. He makes a little progress through the story but is definitely never going to be customer service material. Instead, he studies and learns quick and becomes the cafe's main barista, able to make even the most complicated of drinks.

Naoto works mainly in the kitchen, but is able to help out front whenever needed. She's quiet but really, the café would kind of fall apart without her, as it's only after she starts that people start to really rave about not just the coffee, but all the different treats and little meals they can get.

I like imagining Nill as a part-time staff member. She helps out Naoto a lot in the kitchen, as well as doing a lot of the cleaning. She's really shy and doesn't interact a lot with the customers, but the other staff kind of take her in, make her feel comfortable, and take care of her. Not a lot is known about her past, just that she lives in the church's rectory with Bishop.

[kryinthenight]

Sin of Gluttony

Do you ever get a gnawing feeling that nothing will ever be enough? That you are so innately broken that you will constantly be left to the brink of dissatisfaction? Until the day you die. That no matter how much you scream no one will ever hear you? The point of unfulfillment will be so great that even the cells of your skin cry out in desperation. 

Will nothing make them stop?

Is it greed? 

Is it envy?

Is it misery?

Or is it love?

Or maybe even a lack of love within yourself? 

This craving only brings misery and the feelings as if I will never have what I'm so desperately seeking. This desperation is only masked by the uncertainty of what is missing within me. 

I am just a glutton who was lacking a reason. A pathetic street stray trying to mask the starvation I'm feeling. Trying to fill what no one could. 

so

why were you enough for me?

Maybe I should scare her a little... For not telling me about what Shes been up to...

I begin to lean off the edge of the ledge and feel myself drift off the concrete behind me. Before my head left her lap, I felt an orchestra of strings pulling my body closer to her. Unwilling to let me fall. 

"See?" 

“You literally couldn't have known that. What if I didn't and you actually fell??”

"Then you would be doing a really bad job at saving me." 

She punches my arm as I laugh. I've missed this. I've missed… 

Shes still worried about me. Good I guess that's a good sign. She will be back home soon anyways. Then we will be back to normal...right?

"How did you know i was going to save you though?"

"I just trust you."

Why couldn't you be enough?

She's hanging out with him again. my replacement. She doesn't think he's better too, right?

They walk together everywhere. He follows her around everywhere. Like a pathetic little dog. 

I stared at her from the building we usually meet at. She didn't come today. And I'm staring at reason number one. 

It's just an act. So why is she smiling this much???? Did she ever laugh like that before? Why is she getting so close to him? Was she ever that happy? Was she ever that happy with me?

This whole situation is making me so-

Why weren't you enough?

The scene was slowly blurring in front of me. And I couldn't make out what was happening anymore. All I could hear in the daze was her footsteps trailing away as I felt the dizziness of the world around me. 

When I awoke again. It was too late. The last scene played out as I begged for more. 

All I could feel was the life draining from me. Someone had hurt me. I could feel the pain brefitly. But all I could stare at was the look on your face. That's how I knew what had happened. I'm still using you as my guide and to my surprise you showed me something real. 

I could finally see you.

So tell me. Why can I see your face now…? Why only now can I see how you feel? 

As I slipped I could feel the weight of my body cave in on myself. I was… falling. And without your strings to catch me. Was this my end?

I was left unsatisfied again

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Director's Commentary

I'm going to need you to tell me how Number Ten came to be. That was the first fic of yours that I ever read and I knew you were going to be my cup of tea!

When did you first realize that angst was something you enjoyed exploring? What is it about whump, specifically, that you gets your blood pumping? Does writing the happy ending ever feel like the wrong thing to do?

Trust you to come in with the big gun questions 😘 I expect nothing less. Hoo boy, okay. Number Ten. I am fascinated by the concept of 'Viscount Benedict'. Because it's a reality in the Bton world that is close enough to almost taste, but is never explored. We are always one breath away from this bizarre timeline that is depressing for everyone - especially him - and I simply had to get inside his head and see how he would react if that turned out to be his fate (because I love him and would happily write a fictional diary that documented his actions and emotions every day of his life birth to death because I have a problem. Anyway....)

Yes, Benedict was born out of the love of his parents, but as the second son, it is the functional purpose of his life to be the 'spare' and take on the title if the unthinkable should happen to Anthony. And in the duel of book/season one, we are faced with the very real possibility that Anthony could die. I feel the immensity of this risk definitely gets lost in the shuffle of the show episode, with so much focus on Simon and Daphne and Benedict being an underdeveloped character at that point. There is the great scene in the study beforehand where Anthony says "hey bro, your life as you know it is over tonight. Hope you enjoyed your little druggy art party. You'll be the Viscount in the morning no matter how his goes" and all we got out of Benedict was a pained glance (exceptional acting by LT of course, but there is SOOOOOOO much that went unexplored here).

LadyJenevia is a media critic and Benedict stan and she is desperate to get on the Bton press junket to interview LT and ask him the very pertinent question of how much weight he carried into the duel scenes of Benedict thinking he would walk off that field either as functional Viscount with a fugitive brother, or literal Viscount with a dead brother, and how that informed his acting choices. It's an incredible question and deserves to be asked. I think I was chewing on this when one weekday morning I let my mind stray to the darkest timeline and saw Benedict screaming as he shook Anthony's lifeless body. Because we were thhhiiiiisssss close to that, but I don't think any audience attention was drawn to that potential reality, or how that would impact Benedict or his siblings. Anthony was seen as a hotheaded asshole at this point and attention was largely on Simon. (Even I walked away from S1 not knowing Benedict's name, so I get it.)

So the scenes started to play out in my head (I checked AO3, this was a Tuesday, I should have been working), and I felt his desperation and terror in those moments, heard his screams, saw his panic as his brother and his life and his dreams died in his arms. I saw Anthony fall (an accident of course, Simon was not intending to shoot him, but Daphne fked it up), I saw everyone in denial, Daphne screaming, Anthony fading, Benedict showing up back home covered in blood and having to explain to his mother what happened. I even saw scenes of him losing it on Daphne and blaming her, and also opening up and crying to Eloise about it all (but these weren't written/maybe I'm saving stuff for another WIP). This alternate timeline had to be explored, because we were so damn close to it and it would be an entirely different Bton universe, balanced on Benedict's shoulders, if just a couple factors were changed. So it just poured out of me in a couple hours and I posted it immediately. This was one of those brain-movies and it felt like unburdening myself to get it down on the page for others to see 😛 And of course at the end of the day, this is an act of love for Benedict. Because as crushed and miserable as he would be by it all, he wouldn't run away or fail his family. He would rise to the occasion and do his best, but he would be a very different head of family than Anthony was. I wanted to champion his fortitude, and Anthony's single-minded focus as he died, that Ben continue the protection of the family. Because they are both amazing men aggghhhhhhh 😭

When did I realize angst and whump were my thing? Honestly, I don't think I did until just recently joining tumblr. I've been writing since summer of last year under the (perhaps misguided) assumption that the purpose of fanfic was to grind characters through bizarre scenarios of heightened emotion (be that angst, whump, smut, etc.) for gleeful wish fulfillment. Then when I saw folks calling Love to Spare 'angsty' because it had lightly conflicted romantic emotions I had a lightbulb moment of 'oh, wait til they see all the pain, grief, gore and death I've put characters through in my WIPs' 😅 My angst barometer is clearly higher than others. It definitely aligns with my taste in media, that I tend to only consume dark, angsty shows and films because the intensity/urgency of those scenarios grabs me by the gut and causes a visceral reaction. I want to feel something really hard when consuming media. It's more satisfying than letting happy fluff wash over me (though of course there are rare times for that too) because it feels like I have learned/grown through the pain and insight. Now that I have been/attempted to write a variety of fics, I see clearly that I am more motivated to write angsty and whumpy scenes and stories, than I am to write fluffy or even smutty ones, and I'm glad to have learned that about myself.

Whump, IMO, is the perfect recipe for character exploration and reader engagement. You've said it yourself - when characters are suffering and/or facing mortality, everything else is stripped away and you get justification for really raw and intense emotional interactions and personality revelations. Readers can feel the stress of the situation and wonder how it's all going to pan out, and you can deliver that joyous happy ending or devastating tragedy which forces them to examine new perspectives of the characters and world. And to answer your final question, I do think there are scenarios where happy endings are the wrong conclusion. As we all likely know and have experienced by now, that is not how the real world operates, and I think its healthy and cathartic to examine that in our media sometimes. Art imitates life, so it should imitate the times when the bad guys win, or people die, or you don't always get what you want. Not only does that make it more realistic and relatable, it creates a safe, fictional space to examine how you would respond to that scenario, and contemplate it as a potential reality you may need to prepare for. Thus, it was worth seeing how Benedict would have reacted if things had played out just an inch differently, and his whole world was transformed in an instant.

Thank you for the ask my dear 💙