#now that those are out of the way I also have plans to make this silly guy a charm

[nehi-soda]

Bound in Bloom -

Jackson!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

Summary: Joel Miller never thought he’d find peace, not after all the years of running, fighting, and surviving. But here you were, standing in the kitchen of the farmhouse, the soft swell of your belly beneath his favorite sundress on his birthday.

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: breeding kink, pregnancy kink, farmhouse!joel, dad!joel, established relationship, pregnancy, talk about your body changing, oral sex (female receiving), mention of unprotected P in V sex, creampie, smut, fluff, soft!joel, pet names (baby, darlin'). No use of Y/N. Mood board is for aesthetics only; the reader's features aren't specified.

A/N: I just know this would be Joel's DREAM, so I wanted to gift it to him for his birthday (and you cannot tell me this man does not have a breeding kink. Yes, Joel, you can keep me barefoot and pregnant, sweetie. (Spoiler coming up?) Also, in my mind, in this universe, Joel and reader moved out of Jackson and live in the farmhouse that Dina and Ellie live in at the end of pt 2.

for @justagalwhowrites' joel miller birthday celebration

The soft morning light filtered through the kitchen window, painting everything with a golden haze. The sweet smell of cake filled the room as you stood at the sink, hands submerged in warm, soapy water, humming to yourself as you scrubbed the last of the cake mix off the various utensils. The worn farmhouse floor creaked beneath your bare feet, familiar and comforting. The air outside was still and quiet, except for the occasional rustle of the wind through the tall grass surrounding the house.

It was peaceful out here. Away from the chaos, from Jackson, from all of it. Joel had finally given in to the idea of a quieter life. After years of running, fighting, and surviving, he got what he'd wanted— a simple life. And you, you were part of that dream, tethered to him in ways you’d never been able to escape since the moment you met him.

Your little floral sundress clung to you a little differently now, tighter around your hips and shorter than it used to be, the fabric barely grazing mid-thigh. The hem lifted just slightly as you shifted, the soft cotton pulling tighter across the swell of your belly. You absently brushed your hand over the curve and smiled softly.

You didn’t expect to outgrow your clothes so quickly, but the last few weeks had caught you off guard. It seemed like overnight; your belly had swelled, pushing at the seams of your favourite dresses and making your jeans a distant memory. Lately, you’d been relying more and more on Joel’s t-shirts and flannels, the worn fabric soft against your skin, offering that extra room you needed. You liked the way they smelled like him—like woodsmoke and fresh pine, wrapping you in his presence even when he wasn’t there.

And God, you could see it in his eyes every time he caught you wearing something of his —how much it did something to him. How the sight of you in his clothes, with your belly rounding beneath the fabric, lit something deep inside him.

But you didn’t try to get pregnant.

There wasn’t some grand plan, no careful conversations or conscious decisions about what you were doing. It had been the way he groaned when you begged for it, the way his breath hitched and his grip on your hips tightened like he was holding on for dear life. You loved the power it gave you, how those simple words could unravel him completely.

“Put a baby in me, Joel.”

You’d whisper it in his ear in those moments when he was deep inside you, moving slow and steady, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, sweat beading on his brow as he tried to keep control. Sometimes, you’d say it soft, barely a murmur against his lips. Other times, it came out all breathless, a plea mixed in with the sound of your moans. Sometimes it would be a loud scream.

And every time, it hit him like a goddamn freight train.

You felt it in the way his body would react—his hips driving harder, deeper, as if your words unlocked something in him, something primal. He couldn’t hold back when you said it. The way his voice would break, that low, guttural groan spilling from his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, his grip almost bruising, made you want him more.

“Please cum inside me, please, please, please…”

“You want that, huh?” he’d ask, his voice strained, thick with lust. “Want me to fill you up?”

And you did. You wanted it so badly in those moments; the idea of being swollen with his child, of him claiming you in the most permanent way, made your entire body burn with need.

His movements would become more purposeful as if he was consumed by the thought of it too.

But you weren’t trying to get pregnant. Not really. 

You just loved the way it made him lose himself, how he’d bury himself so deep inside you, hips flush against yours, as he came with a broken moan, spilling himself into you over and over again, filling you up as you’d asked.

You could hear him behind you, the sound of his heavy footsteps announcing his presence before his hands did. You smiled to yourself, letting the warmth of the sun match the warmth that spread through your chest. There was something so comforting about his presence—solid, dependable.

“Morning, darlin’,” his voice was rough, still thick with sleep, but there was something softer there, too, the edge he used to carry dulled by the peacefulness of this new life. His hands found your hips easily, warm and firm as they slid over the fabric of your dress, fingers grazing the swell of your belly like it was second nature to him now.

“Morning,” you murmured, smiling as he leaned in closer, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

“How’s my girls?” he asked, his hand resting protectively on your stomach, thumb tracing lazy circles over the fabric as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you.

From the moment you’d found out, Joel had been convinced you were carrying a girl. His baby girl.

“They’re just fine,” you teased, leaning back into him, letting the warmth of his body sink into yours. “She’s still baking.”

Joel chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your heart flutter.

"You look real pretty today," he murmured, voice gravelly and thick with that Southern drawl. You felt his hands slide across you in a slow, deliberate grip, the curve of your waist sliding down to rest on your sore hips. His breath was warm against your neck, the thick scrape of his beard sending shivers down your spine as he planted soft kisses along the sensitive skin there. His touch was slow, tender, not rushed—like he had all the time in the world; like you were something precious.

“Gonna need to get you some new dresses soon,” he murmured. “Can’t have you walkin’ around in this one when it’s barely coverin’ you.”

“You used to love this dress, couldn’t take your hands off me when I wore it, remember? You saying I’m getting too big for it?” You laughed softly.

“Nah,” he whispered, “Just sayin’ you’re growin’ right where I want you to.”

“Well, I wore it especially. Happy birthday, old man," you teased, raising your hand to dab bubbles on his cheek before giving him a soft kiss. You bit your lip and focused back on the dishes, the feel of the soap between your fingers suddenly became more acute. But it was hard to stay focused when his hands were moving like that. His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, teasing, lifting it ever so slightly.

"Joel, I’m almost done—" you giggled, but the words caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against that sweet spot just below your ear. His hand slid higher, bunching the fabric, exposing more of your thighs, the cool air brushing against them.

“Good,” he growled softly between kisses, his voice low and rumbling. His hands wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as his mouth continued its slow, deliberate assault on your neck.

You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, your body already responding to him, the ache growing with every passing second. He knew it too—the way you shifted slightly, pressing back against him, craving more even as you tried to stay focused.

“So damn beautiful.” he whispered, his voice full of affection, his lips brushing your ear. A hand slid higher again, teasing along the edge of your underwear now, and you could feel your breath hitch, your whole body tensing.

You tried to protest again, half-hearted, knowing it was useless. His fingers slid beneath the thin fabric of your panties, brushing over your folds, finding you already wet with need making him groaned softly

“Always fuckin’ ready for it, huh?” he muttered, his fingers moving with a slow, torturous rhythm that had your knees trembling. “You were made for me, made for this, to carry my babies.…”.

All you could do was hum in agreement and let out a breathless moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as the pads of his rough fingers traced hypnotic circles against your swollen clit, the sensation overwhelming. His breath was hot against your ear, his free hand cradling your belly with a kind of possessive tenderness.

“God, you drive me crazy.”

He kissed your neck again, harder this time, nipping and sucking, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. You could feel him growing harder against your back, the heat of his body pressed flush against yours.

“You want me to stop?” he whispered, his fingers still moving in slow, agonising strokes. He knew the answer before you even said it, his voice thick with a kind of smug satisfaction that only made the heat between your legs burn hotter, your pussy fluttering around nothing.

“No…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, dizzy with need.

“Didn’t think so,” his voice deep, and then his fingers dipped lower, slipping two fingers inside you, pulling a soft moan from your lips, filling that ache you always seemed to have inside you that only Joel could satisfy.

"That’s it, mama, let me take care of you.”

You could hear the soft squelch of your pussy, accepting his fingers over and over as Joel gently swayed you in his arms.

Just when you were getting lost in his heavenly touch, he pulled them out making you whimper, your pussy clenching at the sudden loss. A firm hand between your shoulder blades pushed you forward, your pulse thrumming with anticipation.

Your palms braced against the cool surface of the sink as your body instinctively arched for him.

You felt him sink to his knees behind you, the rough denim of his jeans scraping against the wood floor.

You could barely catch your breath, the feel of his hand sliding down the curve of your ass, his fingers gripping the fabric of your soaked panties, tugging them down your thighs. You gasped as the cool air hit you, your legs spreading automatically.

He pressed his lips to the back of your legs, kissing his way up slowly, reverently, as if he were worshipping you.

“Goddamn, baby,” he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you open. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

His mouth was on you before you could even register the heat of his breath, his tongue slipping between your folds, lapping up the wetness. You let out a moan, loud and breathless, your body jolting forward as the first wave of pleasure hit you like a lightning bolt. His hands were firm but loving on your hips, pulling you back just enough so he could fit his mouth where you needed him most.

He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your entire being as his tongue slid over your sex, slow and demanding. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t devouring you like a man starved. No, you were a luxury that had to be savoured.

His tongue dragged a long deliberate stroke from your clit to your entrance. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you steady as he began to devour you, his mouth relentless, his tongue dipping and circling with a precision that left you shaking.

“Joel.”

His name was all you could manage, and it came out in a desperate moan.

He fucking loved how his name sounded when you moaned it.

He pressed a kiss to your swollen clit, soft and tender, before sucking it gently between his lips.

Your head dropped forward, your body trembling as the pleasure built inside you, hotter and hotter, until it felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh, fuck…” you whimpered, your fingers digging into the edge of the sink till your knuckles turned white, the pressure inside you building faster than you could handle.

Each lick was thorough and purposeful, his tongue exploring every inch of you like he was committing it to memory.

“God… Joel… feels so fucking good.” You could barely speak, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as his mouth worked you over.

You rocked your hips back, settling his tounge further into your cunt.

“Mhm, mhm,” Joel hummed against you, his hands gripping your hips tighter, pulling you down harder onto his face, his words vibrating against the overstimulated bundle of nerves. “Atta girl, just like that, let go, baby.”

You could feel the orgasm building inside you, the heat coiling tighter and tighter. You were right there, teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he pushed you closer and closer.

“Joel… I’m gonna—" you tried to warn him, but it was too late. The orgasm ripped through you like wildfire, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out and came hard on his tongue. But he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, drinking every drop of your release until you were spent, legs giving way, chest heaving.

When he finally pulled away, you were a quivering mess and could barely stand. You felt your juices dripping down the inside of your thighs and shivered.  

Joel wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he rose behind you with a groan. “Jesus, I'm gettin’ too old for this.” His hands slid up your thighs, your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

"Don’t be too worn out," you teased, your voice soft, still giddy with the afterglow. “Ellie and everyone are coming over, remember? And we’re having cake!”

“Baby, you know…I'm feelin’ a little full, actually.” He joked.

Your jaw dropped incredulously at his vulgarity before he planted kisses all over your flushed face.

Each year, when he blew out the candles on a small cake you’d make from whatever ingredients were available, he’d always wish for the same damn thing: To keep loving you.

 And if he were extra good, maybe he’d be given another shot at fatherhood. 

Joel knew that this year, even if he never let himself fully believe he deserved it, you had already given him his greatest wish.

divider credit to @mikeykuns

[cheeseceli]

That must be right

Pairing: Min Yoongi × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, f2l, drabble

Request: can i request a yoongi idolbf! x reader and its just like a fluffy date, they're just dating and didnt really actually confess their feeling yet and like at the end of the date he or reader confesses

Warnings: tzuyu (twice) makes a cameo, suga overthinks a bit, y/n was delulu for a second here, not proofread.

A/n: don't you just love when he smiles | daily click

Yoongi doesn't know what to feel right now.

He should be happy, because oh my God this is happening. But he should also be anxious, because what is he supposed to do now that this is happening? And on top of it, he should be scared, because is this even supposed to be happening?

The way you saved his number as "my love" is a fact that has been spiraling in his head for hours now, since he discovered it. And it is just a silly little detail about your every day life. He wasn't even supposed to know about that. But he does. And now he can't stop thinking about that.

It's also about how you told Tzuyu (who definitely shouldn't have told Suga) you couldn't go out with her since you were having a date with your boyfriend. The boyfriend being Yoongi. And the date being the place you guys should go to in a few hours.

And there's nothing wrong with that, right? Except for the fact that you called him your boyfriend when he is... not your boyfriend. He would love to be, of course! But he is not. Unless he got lost in translation, which he highly doubts, considering how he is always replaying everything you say and do in his mind.

But you called him that. And, in some type of way, you called him your love as well. Never to his face, but you did. And Yoongi has no idea on how much of that he should consider. It could be just a not very funny joke. But you wouldn't joke about it, would you? So maybe he should just behave like nothing happened. Yeah, that's right. He shouldn't even know about those things at all.

So for the rest of the day, he pretends that he didn't discover anything. Everything is exactly as it was. But he can't bring himself to actually forget those. "My boyfriend". "My love". Those sentences were quite harsh to forget about.

You guys are on a date, so why can't you be actually dating? Do you even know that this is a romantic date? Does Yoongi know that? When did the line between friends who are secretly in love and actual lovers blurry itself so hard? It's getting ridiculous at this point. So many questions and very few answers.

He watches as you hold the huge popcorn bucket, trying your best not to drop anything. You were just waiting in line with him, waiting for the movie session to start, but you were so happy. Even when just standing still, your eyes were undeniably full of joy.

Yoongi also didn't miss how you never failed at being close to him. Not on a way to overwhelm him, just to be there. Like you just wanted his company, even if you weren't touching each other. Even if you were in complete silence, even if you didn't even look at each other just yet. You were both there. And that was all that mattered.

Useless to say that he paid absolutely no attention to the movie on the silver screen. He had no idea of who was staring in it, or what it was about. He barely looked at it to be honest. He was looking at you all the time. My boyfriend. My love. You surely acted like there was truth to those words.

For the first time in the past hour or so he looked away from you. He focused his gaze on the movie playing instead, but only because he wanted to reach to hold your hand, and he wouldn't be able to do it if he looked at you while doing so. That was proven particularly correct as he felt you turning your head just to look at him the moment you felt his touch.

He should've looked though. Maybe then he would see how your eyes proved that Yoongi was indeed your love. Maybe just not your boyfriend. Yet. That was soon to be solved, as he was already planning on how to confess the moment the two of you got out of the movie theater.

You were, after all, calling him your boyfriend for a while now. However, now it was time for him to call you his partner. Oh, and he so would do it. It felt right to do so.

And if it feels right, it must be right.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: shut me up

Reminder that this is all fiction! This does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist: @yuyubeans @butnotmontana

Dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics | credits for images 1, 2 and 3

[warping-realities]

Beautiful Things

Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.

Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.

That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"

Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.

“Please, staaaayyyy…”

That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.

The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.

“I want you, I need you, oh God…”

But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?

Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.

Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.

“Alois, du bist dumm…”

He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.

But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.

“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.

“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.

“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane

It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”

Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.

Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.

“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”

“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.

“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”

The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.

But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.

“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.

After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.

“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.

“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”

“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.

“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”

This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.

Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.

Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.

“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”

“I… what…?”

“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.

“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”

.....

When he got to the dorm for international students  after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.

“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious  starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.

“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”

“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”

“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”

“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”

“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”

“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!

“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”

“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”

“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”

Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.

“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”

As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one  in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.

“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.

When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.

Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.

“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.

“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.

“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”

“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.

"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.

...

Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.

“You coming, bro?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”

“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.

.....

While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.

“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”

“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”

“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”

[paper-mario-wiki]

I feel like I've ended up in the same spot as so transmasc before me: I have a lovely cis boyfriend who loves my tits which I love for him, but I am getting dysphoric to the point I wanna lift my lips and show a lil teeth when I see his hands coming towards them. Feels bad because they are his favorite and we haven't been fucking as much because as soon as he starts touching me I am out of it™ and get all in my head and freeze up. Any advice?

good god, brother. i am utterly baffled at why you have elected me as the strategist for this problem, and i'm even more confused as to why you have chosen to go into as much detail as you have.

but.

if i were to give you some advice on this

i'd say that you should consider a conversation with your partner about the long-term plan for the relationship. a "relationship" is two lives that are connected, right? and your life is not one where you're gonna have boobs for the rest of it (or at least based on what you've told me i would assume, should you have your way, those bad boys are gettin lopped off at some point), therefore it's pertinent that it be brought up, because it concerns your life, therefore it concerns the relationship, therefore it concerns him, yes?

now, the first and most obvious thing to start with out the gate is the boundary, made clear and concise: the hills are now closed, off limits to tourists. all discussions regarding this come next. make it clear that it's about something quite core to your identity, and something that does in fact cause physical pain (a panic response from the nervous system is pain homie).

this brings some followup questions (and remember, this isn't an interrogation, it's a dialogue to share): how does he feel about this? if he's against, why? for that matter, how much does it bother him? is there something he doesn't understand about your discomfort? is there some concern he has about your financial or bodily well-being with regards to the procedure? is it because it's vital to his attraction to you as a partner? if that's the case, would their removal be a deal-breaker?

now keep in mind, these question can be brought up whether or not you've got immediate plans to engage in the aforementioned lopping-off of your aforementioned Bad Boys, because the actual point of this dialectical exercise is to create a simple, easy to navigate, easy to understand conversation, which will set a foundation for further negotiations-- should you learn something new about each other, or yourselves, or the relationship as a whole.

either way, i do not think that letting it keep happening and keeping it to yourself is a good idea. i can understand feeling guilty about withholding some physical and emotional gratification you could give "easily" to this person you care dearly for, but trust me when i say that it's not the way to let it be. not just because it's unfair to your partner to secretly grow to resent them for a reason you don't want to vocalize, but to yourself as well.

you may not know it, but by keeping it to yourself you're slowly building up a resentment. that frustration actually shows up pretty clearly in your message. and even if what you're frustrated about is only that particular activity, that activity is irrevocably tied to another person. specifically, a person that you consider to be a pretty central pillar in your life. if that resentment grows, it can evolve into anger, hatred, fear, paranoia, and all sorts of nasty things. and even aside from the emotional and psychological damage that can do, it can grow into a physiological issue, where your brain wears out more and more due to the growing emotional distress ripping through your neurons with all sorts of "emergency" chemicals. like i said, the panic response is a physical pain, even if your body doesn't feel like it "hurts".

so. to summarize.

ABSOLUTELY bring it up. if you don't, it could become damaging to your relationship, and also your actual real life physical brain.

when you do bring it up, remember that the goals are to set a boundary, and to reach an understanding through mutual conversation. it's a dialogue, not a lecture.

when you reach an understanding, figure out if the relationship needs to be renegotiated in some way. that usually means new boundaries, or expectations. or maybe nothing! though surely your boyfriend can find more things to love about you.

that's as best as i can muster. you don't have to follow it, but hopefully it'll at least give you some ideas you can use.

[therandomfando4]

Hey, so I think I might have figured this code out in the newest Smg4 video, maybe?

Okay, so, this is the original code.

11-12-1-19 2-1-11: 2

First, I changed the numbers into letters by using the alphabet. 1 being A, 2 being B, 3 being C, and so on. Which gave me this:

K L A S B A K B

Which confused me until I changed two letters around. Making this.

K L B S B A K A

Swapped 2 & 1

11-12-2-19 2-1-11: 1

I immediately tied this to Smg3 as he says "Baka," a fair bit in Smg4. But I wasn't convinced it meant anything until I figured out that almost all of the numbers were doubled except for 12 & 19.

I figured 12 out pretty fast. But 19 took me a while to figure out. With 12, I remembered something about the number being in the 3 timetables, and that it was the 4th number.

3 × 4 = 12

34..

When I figured this out, I was still doubtful. Since I knew the creatives on the show sometimes fuel the ship, why is it being hidden like as though it's important? On a classified document, and with Mr. Puzzles?

So I just thought it was some kind of coincidence and that it was something deeper or that the code ultimately meant nothing and that I was just wasting my time on it. Besides, 19 didn't mean anything, right?

Yes and no.

I was right about the number itself, not meaning anything until I used additions.

What two numbers made up 19?

9 + 10..

After seeing those two numbers, I instantly thought of a certain meme.

Now it was 21.. I searched up what time tables could go into 21, the two numbers being 3 and 7.

3 × 7 = 21

I first thought about the number 3, which I realised was kinda stupid of me once I remembered the numbers that made up 7 were 3 and 4.

3 + 4 = 7

Either these somehow are 3 coincidences, or really is about Smg34.

Now, unless there is more that I'm missing in this code. I have a few guesses. (If anyone can think of anything else, I'd love to know.)

The classified document is most likely an image or YouTube thumbnail.

If it's a thumbnail, I believe it could be either:

A. Wotfi 2023

This one is because Mr. Puzzles had a YouTube thumbnail of the Puzzlevision movie, and I was thinking about how wotfi 2023 was the last big event before Puzzlevision. As well as Smg3 and Smg4 being the highlighted characters in it.

B. Snowtrapped..

Okay.. I know it has been milked to death by people submitting it for the Wotfi 2024 challenges. But, I feel like it could explain why it's in the document and considered classified. I'm not a fan of this one.

C. A thumbnail for a future episode.

Idk if it would make sense, but eh.. it could be cool.

Now, just some or one of the images that could be in the document.

A. Smg3's notebook.

An image of it or the physical book itself.

B. The drawing at the end of Smg3's notebook

Because it's still a secret to everyone that Smg3 drew a picture of him and Smg4 hanging out together.

C. An image of Smg3 and 4 hanging out or doing something that would be considered gay. Something that would embarrass Smg3 and/ or 4 probably.

Either way, if none of these options are right, I'm hoping we actually get to see what's in the document or that the code is foreshadowing something.

I also used pager codes mixed with the baka I found before. I found these sentences, but I don't know if the creatives behind Smg4 meant for someone to use pager codes.

Swapped 2 & 1

(11)-(12-2)-(21) 2-1-11:1

K L B U B A K A

You. I want you. Home. Baka.

Swapped 2 & 1

(11)-(12-2)-(19) 2-1-11:1

K L B U  B A K A

You. I want you. Yes. Baka.

Or

You. I want you. Hug. Baka.

As I said, I have no idea if the pager codes were planned or coincidental.

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

Anyway, I'd like to hear what other people think about my findings. And if others have found anything of their own.

This took me a while. If I find out this was a waste of time, I'm going to be so upset. /hj

Have a good one, guys.

[just-a-ghost00]

You got mail 💌

Let’s find out what the person on your mind has to say to you. Pick one of the following emojis and discover your reading.

🌍 🩵 🌄 🤠

Group 1 🌍

I may not show it to you but I am really happy we met. Everyday with you feels like a new adventure. Though we are worlds apart and so different from each other, I really feel like we match perfectly. You make me feel like I belong. Every moment spent with you is so much fun. It makes me want to jump forward and explore. You are so sweet and generous, so playful that I can’t help but to play along. I feel so lucky being with you. There is so much I want to do with you. I want to hang out with you and get to know you more. Maybe we could have a couple drinks, play in a park, have a little date by the river… if you wish. I feel so boring compared to you. With me, everything is always black and white. But you, my love, are so colorful and bright. I wish we were a family. I wish I could wake up in the morning to find you sitting at the table, eating breakfast with a smile on your face. I wish I could share with you my favorite spots and take you to every place I get to see. I wish I could find a way to express all that you mean to me. I tend to see the glass half empty. But when I’m with you I want to believe everything is possible. You have filled my cup with your love and I am so thankful for that. I can’t find the words to tell you how much I owe to you. You’ve made me a better person and I feel like I could never return the favor.

Group 2 🩵

I may look like all is well and fine but to tell you the truth I feel hollow. And I could use some fun. I always seem so busy, always the life of the party, making everybody laugh and ensuring they have a good time. But deep inside, it’s getting tough. As the days go by, I feel my energy depleting and my motivation as well. I don’t even know why I do this anymore. I force myself for the sake of keeping appearances but honestly I’m not sure I like it at all. I’m afraid that if you dig deep enough, you wouldn’t like what you find there. I am much more fragile than I seem. Also much more mellow and soft when I get the chance. But lately I’m more of a zombie than anything. I don’t think I could bring you much joy nor comfort. I’m afraid I’ve turned bitter. It’s all about work and making sure the money gets in and less about enjoying what I’m doing. I need to pay the bills. There’s competition around. I can’t afford to lose. Everyone’s counting on me. People look up to me. I sacrificed a lot to get there. I can’t back down now. Who would I be if I did? I can’t disappoint. It’s all a masquerade but it’s for a cause. It might not look great to you but it means a lot to me. So, sorry if I’m acting cold but… it’s all for you baby. Don’t go thinking I found someone better. Believe me I don’t have the time for that.

Group 3 🌄

Hold on a minute ! I know what you’re gonna think. What the heck is he/she saying? But hey, let me explain you’ll get it ! I may not be the strongest, the wisest or the most impressive of them all but one thing that’s sure about me is that I only have good intentions for you. I am ready to fight for you if that must be done. Thought I’m not good at that. Listen, my point is I really like you. I want to be with you, have fun with you, chat with you. I want us to take our time and get to know each other and hopefully to grow old together but that’s another story. With you I feel like a kid again. Sometimes, I gotta say, the feeling can be irritating. But at the same time it is freeing. I don’t have to chose a side. I don’t have to act a certain way to be accepted by you or understood. And that’s crazy! I’ve never experienced that before. Usually I would try to conform and play nice, show my best side and stick to the plan. But ever since I met you I want to free myself of those restraints. I want to find my home. I want to express my full potential without fearing being rejected or not belonging. I know you’ll never kick me out. Because you are the same aren’t you? The things I’ve seen, what I’ve been through, you’ve been there as well, right? I want to make a promise to you. Whatever comes our way, I swear I won’t run away. Even though it is scary and seems impossible, I will always work hard and do my best to make it. I may not be exactly your type or what you imagined a partner should be, but I am willing to learn. I am willing to tune to your melody and shelter whatever we may build together, not matter how unstable it may seem. I want you to feel comfortable with me. I want you to feel as safe with me as I feel with you. So if you’ll let me, let me fulfill that promise. You won’t regret it.

Group 4 🤠

To be honest, at first I didn’t get the best of vibes from you. I was a little intimidated and didn’t want to get to know you. Especially considering what people were saying about you. But I tried to see past your exterior and once I got to know you I found out that you were very chill. Maybe it was because I didn’t know you. Maybe I feared the unknown territory you represented. Maybe I was just afraid of going deep. But curiosity got the best of me. And luckily for both of us I stayed around long enough to make my own opinion. And I have to say that you are quite surprising. I won’t lie, being with you asks a lot of efforts on my part. But every second spent with you is worth it. In your presence, I feel comfortable. Being with you reminds me of my childhood. I think of my mother and my family, of the days we spent together before I moved away and followed the wind where it took me. Every page of our story takes me deeper within. I see sides of myself I never noticed or didn’t want to remember. I remember the innocent days where doing something new weren’t as terrifying and meeting new people sounded like a thrill. Being with you I feel blessed and content. There’s a light heartedness and a warmth in my heart I wouldn’t trade for anything. When I’m alone at home you’re all I think about. When I’m at work also. There isn’t a single moment when you’re not on my mind. When I’m with you I feel hopeful. I think that maybe life isn’t as tough as I thought it would be. That maybe there is more waiting for me. Please, show me more of your different sides. Tell me more about what makes you happy. Let me in and let me see for myself what you are made of. I’m begging you don’t shut me out. I want more of you.

[alexanderwales]

I'm going through a profound period of writer's block, except I've always maintained that writer's block is really like seven different things.

Right now it's just ... aversion. I sit down to write and immediately want to be doing something else. I write a hundred words and it's fine, I'm having ideas and things, I know what comes next, but I finish those hundred words and it's like my brain is so ready to be doing something else. The writing is, in my opinion, not suffering from this, except that the output has been pitiful. The flow state is particularly elusive.

My all-time best day for writing was 16K words. That's like ... three chapters in a single day, maybe four if they're on the shorter side for my chapters. I was going unsustainably fast, fingers flying, neglecting my family, neglecting my body, really in the zone. That's not something I can replicate, but I remember the feeling, and it's so close. It doesn't feel like that me was a world away.

I think I would like to figure out the cause of the aversion. It's coming after a period of deep depression, maybe the worst I've had in twenty years, and maybe that came from anxiety of some kind, but not being able to write at the level of output I want is definitely not helping with the anxiety I've been feeling, so I don't know.

My plans for my next web serial, the one after Thresholder, are premised on being able to reliably write and edit 10K words a week, all killer no filler, as little wasted words as possible, new and interesting things around every corner, stellar fight scenes, meaty character interactions, but I'm feeling like a floppy baby, unable to hold up my own head, and if I can't maintain that pace ... I don't know. I can only scale back, and obviously if you want to make money writing for people on the internet, scaling back runs contrary to that goal.

I would feel better if I had what felt like a good path forward in terms of the writing muscle, if there were some life hack that would work for me. I think I'm at the point of wanting to try sprints again, which have historically been good for me but also a great way to burn out. I don't know how you get over an aversion to something you actually enjoy doing, but I'm not really a stranger to aversions. Usually I just buckle down and get it done, which I don't think is going to work if that feeling of aversion is with me for one of the primary things that I do.

This is mostly a gripe rather than me seeking solutions. I think this is probably a personal thing for which the solutions you might want to offer in the spirit of helpfulness would not actually work. Mostly, if you read my stuff, I want you to know where I'm at right now.

[nethhiri]

Chapter 59: Eye Eye, Cap'n

Warnings: "medical" "procedures", Heat gets something stuck in his ass

Milling about the infirmary, you made a list of things you needed to restock on. If it were an emergency, you could probably make them, however you preferred to keep your devil fruit reserved for your prisoners at the moment. You were starting to understand Wire's preference in clothing. You had no choice but to commandeer his fit since your pants were ruined. There was no question you could have fixed those too, but once you tried on Wire's fishnets, out of curiosity, you didn't want to. Instead, you decided to add his tiny shorts, which were much less tiny on you, yet stretchy enough not to fall down. His mesh bralette-like top had to be adjusted a bit to fit your body. Once everything was on, you couldn't deny that you felt very sexy. 

There was a touch of a strut to your step as you paraded around your domain. When your eyes touched the place where Kid had upset you, your step faltered. Failing to push it from your mind, your heartbeat sped, thinking about it had been causing you quite a lot of anxiety. You were still angry, but no longer seething. It was reasonable to assume Kid would be safe in your presence, however not guaranteed. You knew you would have to face it soon. All you needed from him was a sincere apology and reassurance that you were something more than easy sex. You wanted to believe it was just something stupid he had said, and it most likely was, but you needed him to say it for you to fully forgive him and put it behind you. You wished it was easier being romantically entwined with him. With Killer it seemed so easy. Why couldn't it be like that with Kid? Or was it normal with Kid, and Killer was the abnormality? Relationships, if you wanted to call whatever you had with them that, were an enigma to you. 

You leaned against the counter and took a short break. You had gotten into your feelings again and needed to clear your head. Tears pricked your eyes at the thought of not being able to forgive Kid. Fuck him for making you soft. You wanted badly to go back to the way things were, but you were not going to compromise your self-worth. When you first stepped on the ship, you were fearless and confident. Lately, you had been feeling like part of that was lost when you were in captivity. You were struggling to regain it. This anxiety of being wanted and accepted was undermining your composure. Maybe that was it. Maybe caring about it was the thing that was undermining your usual confidence. Before, you couldn't have given less of a shit about the Kid Pirates, and now you gave a lot of shits. 

A timid knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, fortunately. 

"Yeah?"

Heat shuffled in awkwardly. 

"Hey, Heat. What's wrong?" You immediately clocked his discomfort. 

He seemed to look around to make sure no one else was there. 

"It's okay. No one is here." You went to the door to lock it and double checked that the one to Kid's workshop was still locked. "You can tell me." As Heat approached, there was a low humming noise. "What is that noise?" 

Heat faced the floor, fidgeting with his hands. 

The noise emanated from Heat, specifically his abdomen. Your eyebrows furrowed, as it sounded familiar. When you realized what it was, your eyes went wide and darted to his face. "Heat!? Are you serious?"

"It was an accident. Please don't tell Wire." 

"I won't say a word to anyone." You sighed. You didn't have plans to be elbow deep in someone today, but here we were. "There's a few things we can try, but let's start with the easiest."

You had him lean over one of the gurneys and drop his pants while you put gloves on, the long ones. A few other things, like lubricant and a mild analgesic cream, were also grabbed. Hopefully, that was all you needed. If it was further up, you may need to use your fruit. You stood to the side of him.

"Cold hands," you warned as you parted his cheeks enough to put some of the cream on his asshole. Then you lubed up your hand. "I'm gonna need you to relax as much as possible, hun. I'm going to see if I can reach it manually. I may need you to bear down at some points, okay?"

Heat nodded, clearly embarrassed. This is not how he imagined you inside him. 

"Tell me if it hurts. Ready?" After another nod, you gently pressed a finger inside him, using the vibrations to guide you. Luckily, the vibrator he used wasn't very far up and he was lubed enough from whatever he had been doing that your finger easily reached the base. Your clean hand rested on Heat's lower back, gently patting him for comfort. "You're doing great. I think I can feel it." 

Gently, you retracted your hand enough to add a second finger. You paused as he tensed, waiting for him to relax again before going forward. Holding them in a scissor shape, you grasped the base of the sex toy with your fingers. "Push. Not hard, please." When Heat neared down, the base was pushed more firmly into your grasp and you tugged just enough to make it move. "Keep doing that." 

With a soft whimper from Heat and a sloppy, wet noise, the dildo was free. Heat let out a relieved sigh. 

"It's a boy!" You said, presenting the lube-covered thing to him, still vibrating. "Good thing it was a skinny one." You turned it off and tossed the thing in the sink. Heat stayed still while you cleaned him up with a warm washcloth. "All done." 

Heat pulled up his pants. "Thanks, Doc." His face was red with embarrassment. Half from the incident that had happened and half because he was a little turned on by it. Did he just discover a new kink? Did he like playing doctor? Or maybe he liked seeing you in Wire's clothes. 

"What did we learn?"

"Tapered bases are important for a reason." 

"If it happens again, I may have to give you a lesson on how to play safely." You winked at him. "Now take your fake dick and scram."

"Sorry, ma'am. Won't happen again." Heat darted from the infirmary, shoving his vibrator in his pocket so no one could see it.

You went back to what you were doing, grateful to have your thoughts filled with wondering how Heat managed to get that stuck up his ass, instead of thinking about real feelings. Mini snorted in a judgy way from her napping spot against the back wall. 

"Everyone does it once! Don't bully Heat. That's my job." 

She snorted again and let her head rest on the floor.

Your list was fairly long. You had used up a lot of the supplies on yourself, or they had been used on you when you were incapacitated. You weren't even sure when the Victoria would docking at an island. If you were on speaking terms with him, you could ask Kid. You could have asked Wire the previous night but you were otherwise occupied. Killer hadn't been around for a minute and certainly, you were not going to ask Heat while you were knuckles deep in him, not that you had thought about it then. 

You tapped your foot, staring at a bare corner in the small room. Something could fit there. Now that you knew you could restore things, as long as they weren't rotten to the point of no return, maybe you could start saving spare parts. Kid could build you a fridge no doubt. Killer may even have an old one to spare. You could harvest the more important parts from prisoners and replace them when one of your own crew was injured. You didn't even need a refrigerator technically. You could put everything in formalin like your eye had been in, though it would take a lot more effort to get it in working order. The fridge would be better. A deep freezer could work as well. You would have to test that to see if freezing affected the parts too much.

A metallic, rolling sound caught your attention. You rolled your eyes watching silver nuts and bolts stream across the floor. Not this again. Still, you felt your face get hot. It was the little things like this that made Kid so charming when he waned to be. Per routine, you knelt on the floor, watching them form words and shapes. 

COME HERE.

You rearranged them: WHY?

MISS YOU.

More like he missed your pussy. There wasn't enough material to spell that though. AND?

LO- He started to spell something and then the metal bits quickly scattered and rearranged. WANT 2 SEE U.

WHY? You arranged the pieces in reply. 

This time you heard muffled yelling from the other side of the door. "OH FER FUCK SAKE, WOMAN!" It was followed by banging on aforementioned door.

"WHY SHOULD I OPEN IT?" You yelled back.

"RAGHHHH." Kid's loud, exasperated yell was followed by stomping footsteps fading away and then getting closer, but in a different place. Kid flung open the actual door to the infirmary.

Startled by the stomping, the dozing boar in the back of the room suddenly became alert and ready to defend her master. Did she "accidentally" mistake Kid for an enemy? Did she have a grudge against Kid in the first place? Had she always wanted to headbutt Kid full force? Either way, Kid was barely one step in before a flash of brownish-red flew by you. You heard a grunt and a whoosh as the force of Mini's head knocked the air from Kid's chest. You took off running after him, realizing a little too late that Kid was flying over the edge of the ship, and you were following him down. Instinct made you chase him. You were completely focused on seeing if he was okay, and not at all focused on where he was headed. You should have been laughing your ass off at the railing watching that dumbass sink until Killer undoubtedly jumped to save him, but no. You cared too much and now you were destined to sink with him.

You saw the water below explode and froth as Kid's broad body hit it. The water swallowing you whole before you could register what was happening. At least you had taken a full breath before you were enveloped by the icy, cold sea. Kid had nothing. When your hand touched something soft, you grabbed onto it and pulled closer, immediately recognizing it. At the same time, something curled around you in an iron grip. The poor visibility in the water made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you, and the salt stung your eyes. Still, your mouth found Kid's and you pushed half the air you had into him. Here you were again, always giving him something of yours, trying to prove yourself. His stupid ass better appreciate you giving him a few more minutes to realize that. 

Any second now Killer would be yanking you both out. Any second now. Except you were both still sinking.

He was coming to get you both right? What if no one saw you go in? You clung more tightly to Kid's feathered cape and you felt Kid's other arm wrap around you in a protective embrace.

It felt like forever because of the adrenaline. In reality, it was only a few seconds. Your muscles started to burn from the lack of oxygen. Kid grabbed your arm, positioning it in front of you and turning it so the bottom side of your forearm was up. You stared at him, confused. With his other hand he made your head look back down at your arm and gestured for you to watch. With a finger, he wrote across your skin. You could barely see what he was writing, but you could feel it. 

S-O-R-R-Y

A mix of emotions flooded you. The first was relief, followed by longing. An apology was all you wanted. The second was anger. Why did it take a life or death situation to spur him on? Then you were guilty. That probably wasn't true. You had been ignoring him and pushing him away. Maybe he intended to say it earlier and you had been too hard-headed to accept that. Lastly, you were scared. What if he was only saying it because you were near death? Did he know something you didn't? He pulled you back into an embrace, suddenly pushing you away from him after a few long seconds. What was he doing?! You stretched, reaching out for him, and were yanked upward. You tried kicking at whoever was pulling you away, losing some of the air you had left in a flurry of bubbles, but were too weak. You covered your mouth and nose to keep the rest of the air from escaping.

As soon as your head broke the surface of the water, you were coughing and gasping for air. You hadn't even blinked the water from your eyes before you were scanning for anything red in the waves. 

"Where's Kid?!" 

"Worry about yourself, not your boytoy." Dive's sharp teeth glistened in the sun's rays reflecting off the water as she grinned. She patted your back as a fit of coughing overtook you. "Killer's got him. Don't fret." 

With surprising strength, Dive swam with you in tow. Seconds later, there was a disturbance in the water as one blond, albeit under a helmet, and one red head popped up. You held your breath with worry until you heard Kid cough as well. Dive and Killer got you both on deck with the help of the rest of the crew. You and Kid lay flat on your backs trying to catch your breaths. Your hand searched to your side until it found purchase in Kid's. Even though you heard him cough, you were relieved that his hand was warm. At least this time you didn't loss consciousness. You had woken up in this position more times than you cared to remember.

You sat up and Killer helped you to your feet, then thanked Dive before Wire and Heat shooed off the rest of the spectating crew. Heat was still walking funny, but he seemed fine. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kid glaring in the direction of a very smug-looking pig. You got in the way of his line of sight. You were mad at her, mad wasn't the right word, but would scold her privately. If you did it now, you weren't sure what Kid would do, assuming he was already pissed at the animal. Kid rose from the deck, shaking water from his hair, and walked towards you, meaning to get to Minerva. You backed up, putting yourself between he and Mini. You could forgive the things he did to you, but you would not forgive anything he did to her. Your back touched her as she stood to her full height, fur puffed out, taking a fighting stance against Kid. He similarly made himself look bigger, but you didn't sense malice from him, strangely. 

You put a hand out to keep him back. "It was an accident! All your stomping spooked her!"

"YER LUCKY I DON'T BARBECUE YA AND FEED THE CREW TONIGHT FOR THAT STUNT!" He leaned in as if he were gonna growl something to the boar, instead speaking in a hushed normal voice. "That was yer one free shot at me cuz I deserved it." He narrowed his eyes. "I know ya been wantin to do that fer a while, piggy." 

Gazing into his amber eyes before they flicked away, you knew that was part of his apology to you, choosing to let the boar's actions go because you loved her and he loved you. He turned to go back to his workshop, with you tailing him.

"Hey! You can't stay in wet clothes! You'll get sick!" 

Suddenly your feet weren't touching the ground as Killer plucked you from the deck and followed Kid. "That goes for you, too, little darlin." He grabbed the back of Kid's coat and pulled him below deck with you towards his room.

Killer stripped you both of your wet clothes, though taking a minute to appreciate how good Wire's outfit looked on you. And the two of you were now seated nude at the end of Killer's bed, hands shoved between your legs and heads down with guilt, while he paced back and forth, arms folded over his ample chest. He was deciding which one of you to scold first, not allowing you to put clothes on yet.  

"You." He stood at your feet and you reluctantly met his gaze through the holes of his mask. "Are you stupid? Why would you jump in after this big idiot?"

"HEY!" Kid protested.

You covered yourself up to the best of your ability, feeling vulnerable under Killer's gaze. "I didn't mean to. I just..." 

"Just what? Hm?" Underlying Killer's stern voice, was a thin layer of exasperation. "I have to worry about him enough. I don't need you adding to it."

"I wasn't thinking! I saw that he got hurt and I went after him!"

"And you didn't see the ocean? The giant blue thing on all sides of us." Killer huffed and carried on. "You come get ME. Understand? What if no one saw you go in? Huh? Then both of you would be lost."

"I..." You snapped. "I only saw Kid okay?! I was scared he was hurt! As much as he irritates the fuck out of me and makes me mad, I still care about him and I can't stop." You saw him grinning stupidly beside you and punched him. "Fuck off. I hate you." You folded your arms tighter and turned away from him so he couldn't see your pink-dusted cheeks, slapping his hand away when he tried to pinch one. 

Kid's boisterous laugh filled the room. "HA-HA! YER IN LOVE WITH ME, DUMBASS!" 

Killer snapped at him with his fingers. "Hey, numbnuts, look at me." Kid's laugh faded as it was his turn to be scolded. "Stop riling up the pig, first of all. Second of all, stop saying stupid shit. That's what always gets you into trouble. Think for one extra second before you open that big ass mouth of yours." 

"FINE." Kid huffed. 

"Did you apologize yet?"

You half turned to see what his expression was, seeing him looking at you with a question, and nodded, indicating you accepted his underwater apology. 

"Aye." 

"Y/N?"

"He did." 

"Great." Killer clapped his hands. "Now kiss and make up." Killer turned both of your heads to face each other. "Don't be shy."

You curled your lip and gave Kid a quick peck on the cheek. 

"No! Not good enough!" Killer folded his arms. "What's wrong?" 

You hesitated. If you were going to get it off your chest, now was the time. You huffed and faced Kid. "I want to know that..." you forced yourself to keep his gaze. "...I'm more than sex." 

"Hah?!" Kid had an incredulous expression on his face. "What're ya? Stupid? Course ya are!"

"But you said...as long as I have a pussy-"

Kid put a hand over his face. "Fuck me! That's not what I meant. I was tryin to make ya laugh is all."

"It wasn't funny! I had real fears that...maybe that's all I would be if I couldn't fight."

"Once a Kid Pirate, always a Kid Pirate. We won't abandon ya, even if ya get hurt. Do ya think we would raid a marine base to save ya if ya didn't mean more to us?" Kid continued. "If all I wanted was easy sex, I could grab any random whore from an island."

You hummed in agreement. He had a point. 

"And I did. But we made her our whore." Kid laughed again and you frowned. 

"I really don't like you." You rolled your eyes. 

"Come on now, doll." Kid wrapped his arms around you and smushed his face into your neck. "What would I do without my Rotten? Right, Kil?"

You tried to squirm out of Kid's overly affectionate hug. You could tell he was laying it on thick to annoy you, smug that he knew you could never really stay mad at him.

Killer sat on the opposite side of you and took one of your hands in his. "Kid isn't good with words. That just how he's always been. Sometimes he says the wrong thing or he doesn't realize what he says can be harsh, but trust me when I say he cares about you. If you're on this ship and a part of the crew, he cares about you." 

"Even if ya ever decide ya don't want ta fuck us, yer still a Kid Pirate. I'll still take care of ya." Kid pressed a kiss to your neck. "But I will be sad if ya decide ya don't wanna be my bunny anymore." 

"Good?" Killer got up and folded his arms again. "Now kiss." He made a motion of pushing your heads together. 

You relented, facing Kid and planting your lips on his. He ran his hands lovingly over your cheeks and into your hair. You pulled back and rested your forehead on his. "I'm sorry for being stubborn. And thank you for not being an asshole to Mini."

"I've never been an asshole in my life. Tell her, Killer."

You rolled your eyes again and sighed, feeling a lot better than you had.

"Next time, because there will be a next time, we're going to talk about it together instead of you two being nightmares for the entire ship. Deal? Heat is gonna fucking quit if you keep dragging him in." 

You and Kid nodded, regretfully. 

"Or else you'll get seastone manacled together until you can be nice to each other."

You and Kid glanced at each other, neither exactly opposing that idea.

Killer shook his head and put his hand to his helmet. "Get dry clothes on and get back to work."

You got up and squeezed Killer's midsection. "Sorry for making you worry."

"Aye, sorry." 

You were squished as Kid came from behind you to also hug Killer. Your head was being crushed from all sides by four huge manboobs. A much more preferable way to die than drowning. Shockingly, Kid didn't even get a boner. Wondering what was taking so long, you looked up to see Kid planting red lipstick marks all over Killer's helmet. You had no right to be annoyed, happy to see your boys being affectionate with each other. You could stay here a few minutes longer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kid dragged you to his workshop. He was dying to show you something, and that was why he had been pestering you earlier. He wouldn't tell you what it was. Killer was following you quietly. Even he didn't know what it was, though he had a pretty good guess. Kid made you sit while he rummaged around through his things. You weren't sure why he always had to be rummaging. Why wasn't anything organized? This was his space. It wasn't like anyone but him was making a mess.

While you waited, there was a crumpled piece of clothing on the corner of Kid's bench. It was peppered with smeared eyeliner and Kid's red lipstick. A sweat rag? You picked it up, fabric unfolding and revealing black kanji. This is-! You unfolded it in your lap. It was tattered and stained but it was your coat. Your fingers traced over the marks that were clearly left by Kid. 

"Was gonna give it back. Meant ta clean it first." Kid was scratching the back of his head, a reddish hue developing on his cheeks. 

"You saved it?" You had assumed it was lost when you were taken. 

"And this." Kid held your gunblade out in his hands. "Hope ya don't mind, I tweaked it again."

He did more than that. It was shiner that it had ever been, and it was adorned with intricate snake designs that hadn't been there previously. He had taken your criticism from the last time and applied it. Against his professional judgement, he kept it weighted how you liked. You looked from it to your coat. Your stomach clenched with guilt. If you had known he had don't all of this, you wouldn't have questioned his feelings for you. You brought your coat to your face, to cover the emotions that ran through it. Tears threatened to make themselves known. 

"Don't ya start being a crybaby on me. Ya won't be able to see the other thing I made ya." Kid pulled your hands away from your face. 

You looked into the palm he had held out. It was a small marble-like object. You didn't understand. With the wires attached to it, it sort of resembled... "This is-!" You stood up abruptly and took it from Kid's palm. Inspecting it further, there was no doubt that it was a replica of your eye. "Kid!" 

"Wanna try it?" Kid offered, cheeks radiating with blush. "Just... Don't be upset. It may not work initially. I haven't gotten to test it or-"

"Shut up! Of course it will work! You made it!" You looked at it and gave it back to him. "How do we do it?"

Kid pointed to an open book on his desk, one of the medical reference books that had been in the infirmary. You noticed it was gone, but thought Pomp, UK, and Reck had taken it again to look at the naked anatomical pictures. He explained where the wires should connect and that he could get them there, you would just have to use your fruit to make that possible. You did it with on eye. This wasn't that different. This one had been gone much longer though, and your brain had grown accustomed to not having it, so the neural pathways may be altered. You studied the diagrams for a few minutes and talked it over with Kid. Then, you sat back down and tilted your head back to rest on the bench top. 

"Killer, do you mind holding my head still? I don't know what this will be like."

Killer put both hands on either side of your head and you held the eyelids open for Kid to place the mechanical eye into. It sat in the socket well enough, but now the connections had to be made. You and Kid had to work in tandem to put everything in place. With the flesh eye, you could sort of control the things around it. This was metal, therefore Kid needed to direct it. You probably could have, but he had far better control over it. A jolt went through your body as one of the wires strayed from the correct path.

"Fuck!" Kid flinched, trying to stay concentrated. 

"It's okay. Keep going." You held onto his arm to support him. 

Killer watched, mesmerized by the dancing purple electricity melding with the soft yellow-tinged glow, each devil fruit power working as one. He held your head still, periodically feeling twitches and seeing your face wince. 

Kid pulled his hand away as a spark jumped to his metal finger. "Can ya see?"

The eye made a few jerky, mechanical movements, not quite in synch with your body. "No." You tried to hid the disappointment in your voice. 

"Hold on." Kid made some minor adjustments, looking back at the textbook for confirmation. "Try again."

This time the movement was much smoother, though still no vision. "Still no." You sighed. Maybe the problem was on your end. "Let me try." 

The best way to figure out the issue was to compare it to the working side. You couldn't see into your own brain but you could feel what was there, in a weird way. Everything was connected properly, the issue was that the path of the wires had missed a stop. Both eyes were being used by the same half of the brain. Kid didn't realize that the optic nerve was meant to cross to the other side. The right eye went to the left side and the left eye went to the right, give or take a few nerve fibers. Very carefully, you brought the necessary connections through the chiasm, nerves intertwining with the mechanical fibers. The small metal pistons that acted as muscles worked fine, they needed time to attune to your control so they would move more fluidly, but you could deal with that. 

You cracked the smallest opening in your eyelids, afraid that it wouldn't work, and saw a sliver of light through both. BOTH! They opened the rest of the way and you sat bolt upright, taking in everything around you, everything that seemed so much brighter and vibrant. Your eyes darted around the room. How will the ocean look? The ocean! I have to see the ocean! You were caught by strong hands before you could run out the door. 

"Whoa! Can you see? Everything ok?" Killer looked down at you, holding your shoulders tight. 

You pulled him down by the helmet, too fast, almost knocking yourself out, but you had to see. You had to see his blue eyes. How much of the blue had you been missing? You brought your new eye up to one of his eye holes, trying to get a glimpse. Even in the shade of his helmet, you could see glimmering blue. You released him and he did the same. You looked around the room frenetically for Kid, running to him and yanking him by the shirt until his face was at your level. You held his face between your hands looking at every freckle in new detail. And his eyes! They weren't only amber, but orange and golden, too. There was nuance that you had missed before.

"Holy shit." You breathed. You clapped Kid's head between your hands, slapping his cheeks. "I can see, you baby back bastard! You son of a bitch!" You shook his head in your grip and hugged it. "You fucking did it!" Remembering that you wanted to see the ocean, you practically threw him away from you and zipped out the workshop door. 

Killer allowed himself to chuckle. "Baby back bastard? That's new."

Kid's chest was puffed out and he had his signature grin plastered on his face, framed by two small, red handprints from where you slapped him. He was virtually levitating with how much pride was radiating from him. "Of course I fuckin did it. I'm me!" 

They followed you out, seeing you bent over the railing with your eyes as close to the water as possible without falling in again. Killer grabbed your waistband, sighing. He didn't want to spoil your good time by reprimanding you. 

"It's so fucking blue! Have you seen this shit?!" Suddenly, numbers popped into your vision, scaring you so badly that you jumped back. "What the fuck!?" You swatted at the air where they appeared to be. 

"Ya didn't give me time to explain all the features," Kid said, preventing you from falling backwards.

"Features?"

He laughed. "Ya didn't think I was gonna give ya some dumbass plain eyeball, did ya?" Kid handed you your gunblade. "Here. Point this at somethin random." 

You did as he said, pointing it at the deck some distance away from you. The numbers popped back into your vision, changing depending on where your gun was pointed. When you lingered, crosshairs also flickered into view. "No fucking way."

"That's not all. Look here." Kid pointed to the pulse point in his wrist. 

You holstered your weapon and the display vanished from your sight. Staring at his wrist, a new set of numbers came into view, numbers you recognized as heart rate. You flung yourself at Kid, throwing both arms around him. You released one to reach for Killer, who gladly accepted your hand. At the moment, you had no words. Kid gave you something that you hadn't had in years. You took it back, the thing about always being the one to give. Kid gave, too. It was simply a different kind of giving. You pulled your face out of his cleavage, this time not trying to hold back tears. 

"Thank you, Kid! Thank you. Thank you! It's so beautiful. Everything is so beautiful!" 

"Wait until you look in a mirror," Killer added. He didn't mean for it to be cheesy. He only noticed how you were so excited to see everything, you forgot about yourself.

"Now that's an idea!" You ran into the infirmary bathroom where the nearest mirror happened to be. 

Killer gazed at you adoringly as you saw your own face. Finally, you could learn to appreciate what they had noticed a long time ago. 

It had been some time since you had seen yourself this clearly. Part of you thought you would be disgusted by the scarring on your face, but that wasn't so. It reminded you of how much it took to get to this point. You traced the semi-circle of a scar that went through your old right eye, then the outline of where the acid had melted your skin. It held all of your anguish, but your triumphs as well. Where some might see a disfigurement, there was only strength. You stared at one eye and then the next. They were exactly alike. How Kid managed to get it to match that well, you didn't know. Maybe you did. He always seemed to be watching you, though maybe it wasn't watching so much as it was looking. Kid's eyes followed you all the time. Had he had memorized the details? But why would he? 

You ran back to Kid, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on Killer, who was kind enough to bend down for you. You did a running jump at Kid, which he, thankfully, was prepared for, lest you both fall int the ocean again. Kid caught you as flew at him. "Ha-ha! You stupid fuck! You love me back!" 

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

[peacheeeliz]

003. they're not soundproof (wc: 1046)

Mark sits at the end of the study table, arms crossed as he takes slow breaths. When he left the room, only you and Allen had occupied the table. But once he returned, four of your classmates had joined his little ‘study group.’ Everyone was off in their own little conversations, but you couldn't help but send him a small smile. His blood would boil if it were any other person there, but the sight of that sly smile that played on your lips just left his heart pounding.

“Sorry, my brother and Jungwoo said they wanted to join,” you whisper to him, pointing at the two that sat on the opposite side of the table: Jiwoong Kim and Nicha Yontararak, or Minnie. Two upperclassmen that were friends with your brother and Jungwoo and also a part of your Japanese class. You stared at the two on either side of them, “those two, I don't really know why they're here. I thought you said they couldn't make it?”

‘Those two’ were Mark's friends, Donghyuck and Julie, who sheepishly smiled at him as they conversed with their classmates. “Well, that's what they told me,” he tells you, huffing.

Julie, closest to the two of you, leans over to butt in. “We had something come up with our other plans,” she starts, shrugging before she mouths a quick ‘sorry’ towards Mark.

Before Mark can respond, Jiwoong starts on the other side of the table. “I'm so glad somebody started a study group,” he says, smiling softly. “I was starting to go a little crazy because of Mr. Suh's lessons, and we're only one week in.”

“Oh my Gosh, same,” Minnie continues, hands falling down on the table. She sends a sorrowful look your way, “your Japanese is literally so good already, girl. How do you do it?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head at her words. “Oh, it's nothing, come on,” you draw out.

Allen, who had now moved to the chair on the other side of you, threw his arm over your shoulder with a bright smile. “Y/Nie here is a multilingual genius. I genuinely think she has a superpower to learn any language she wants just like that,” he snaps his fingers to emphasize the word ‘that.’ “She's amazing.”

“Stop it,” you say sheepishly, swatting his arm away. “I want to learn just like you guys, I've just got a few languages down, so it's easier to learn others.”

“I agree with Allen,” Mark starts, smiling sweetly at you. “It's really amazing.”

Your eyes don't stay on him long, as Hyuck's loud voice calls you back to the group. “Well, then, you will just be a great help for our study group then, won't you?” He asks you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glances back and forth between you and Mark. “Mark is just terrible at learning new languages, so he might need a lot of help.”

“Haha, shut up, man,” Mark laughs, though his eyes stare daggers towards his friend.

“Well, I think this is going to be fun,” Allen exclaims, tapping the table excitedly. “I've never been in a study group before.”

“Actually, uh, before we start,” Mark interrupts, eyeing Hyuck again. “Can we talk real quick, outside?”

Despite his previous cheeky mood, Hyuck tenses up at Mark's gaze. He nods quickly, following his friend out into the hall. But of course, he doesn't forget to send you a friendly wave before the door shuts behind him.

“What the hell, man?” Mark starts instantly, huffing as he crosses his arms once again. “This was supposed to be just me and her. What the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck are any of you doing here?”

“Listen, Y/N invited everyone but me and Julie, alright?” Hyuck rebuts, scoffing. “And Allen only invited us because he had no idea we were ‘supposed’ to be a part of your little study group.”

Mark rolls his eyes, letting out a pained laugh. “Listen, roll your eyes all you want,” Hyuck continues, jabbing his friend in the chest. “I can try to help you out as much as you want, but forget studying alone with her. This study group's happening. If I have to study, so do you, sweetheart.”

The sound of the door opening brings their attention away from each other, and their eyes fall on you. You peaked your head around the door, “hey.” You said softly. “Just wanted to let you guys know that these windows, y'know the windows that completely surround the study room. They're not soundproof.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Mark starts, following you back into the room with Hyuck. “I'm sorry, really.”

“What, sorry that your plan got ruined?” You ask, sitting back down at the table. Your classmates stayed silent, watching the scene play out in front of them. “Or sorry that I heard how disappointed you were in the plan not working out?”

He watched as you prepared your books for studying, ready to completely ignore him if absolutely necessary. “Obviously the latter, come on,” he tells you, eyes too focused on you to notice that Hyuck returns to his seat. “I really want to study with you, genuinely.”

You stare up at him with a blank stare, “drop the act. I'm not falling for it,” you reply, returning to your notes. “If you don't want to study with us, then fine. You know where the door is.”

“Y/N,” he says, but all he gets in reply is you pointing at the door in silence. He looks to Julie and Hyuck for help, but their eyes are glued to their textbooks. His eyes graze over the others, who awkwardly avoid his gaze by looking at each other or their notes. “Fine, I'll leave.”

He begins to pack his things back up in silence, though his eyes keep wandering back to you. To see if you'd look back at him. To see if you'd tell him to stop, just sit down and join them. But you never do. Your eyes stay on your textbook, never leaving to meet his.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he throws his backpack over his shoulder. Without saying another word, he exits the study room and doesn't turn back.

synopsis ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?

a/n: i'm imagining their seating arrangement to actually be like it is in community 😭😭 so like mark in jeff's spot, y/n = britta, allen = abed, hyuck = troy, jiwoong = pierce, minnie = shirley, and julie = annie. i hope that all makes sense !

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[azrielgreen]

✨PRISM Q&A✨

-Answering all built up ANONs and DMs about ✨PRISM✨ thanks for all the love, support and enthusiasm to each asker!

Q: Building on the topic someone else asked about how prism Eddie would be if he and Steve had kids… you said he would ultimately love them and be fiercely protective of them because they are an extension of Steve (and himself), and I do see that happening but im also thinking of another possibility: Eddie is definitely (and I think you two both said so?) a Narcissist, so from real life scenarios, I’m wondering if he would-and let’s pretend Steve could carry children in this hypothetical-like the lead up to having kids (aka Steve’s pregnancy and planning ahead), but when the baby arrives, would find himself being rather annoyed by Steve’s shift in devotion to someone else, even if that someone is their kid. I know he does not exclusively have narcissism so there are other factors, but I could see how Steve shifting his focus to their kid could act as an-unexpected or not-conflict for him. I also do wonder if the more realistic scenario of adoption would change things, as they wouldn’t be as connected-genetics wise-to Steve…. Hopefully this makes sense also I’m so excited for prism to come back next month!!!

A: I’m genuinely obsessed with how many people want to discuss an Omegaverse!Prism AU, it blows my mind! So, yeah building on the aforementioned answer, I don’t believe there would be any conflict in terms of Steve’s attention. Eddie likes that Steve has the kids, Robin, etc… he see himself as very generous and does have his own life to tend to, so there would be a decent balance. What he wouldn’t like is if Steve tried to leave and take the kids, if someone ELSE tried to interfere with his parenting or turn the child against him. Prism Eddie has narcissistic traits, absolutely, but that’s not his full disorder, or certainly not his main one. Adoption would be much the same, Eddie loves the idea of building a family/found family and creating a little village (cult-like commune) for their chosen few. It wouldn’t be that different from Steve being pregnant and creating kids of their own DNA. Eddie can sway anyone, look at Will. All that being said, I think Eddie WOULD struggle with clashing with Steve over parenting ideology. Eddie is obsessed with creating a family around him and the person he loves and he’ll do it one way or another, as we will see a fair amount of in Part Three. Ultimately, Eddie saw very clearly a lot of the mistakes Billy made in isolating Steve and told himself he wouldn’t make those same mistakes (even if sometimes he DOES, just in different ways) so no, I don’t think he would be resentful of Steve’s focus onto their children. Eddie has no North without Steve. If Steve loves something, so Eddie feels like he loves it too, i.e. Robin. There’s a degree of nuance about the things Eddie himself loves and how he loves them, and the majority of it revolves around Steve so in a way, Eddie would follow Steve’s lead a great deal with the kids and respect the path HE carves.

Q: This is spoiler territory so I get it if you can’t answer, but will Steve ever be made aware in some capacity of the type of person Eddie is- like what he’s done and how manipulative he has been throughout their entire relationship? Or are these traits something that Steve would just be into anyway?

A: I can definitely answer to some degree! Yes, Steve will realise some of what you mentioned here, some of it he recognises over the next few chapters as Eddie opens up more now they’re TOGETHER✨. Some smaller elements Steve is already putting together. What I will say is that Eddie does not want to hide who he is from Steve forever.

Q: In Prism, do you think if Billy was let out of prison and went back to find Steve do you think Steve would give in and get back with him?

A: We’ll get to explore this in Part Three to some extent, so I won’t spoil anything but what I will say is that all characters in this fucked up little soap opera are always changing and growing (even if not in good ways) and that Billy and Steve are not the same people they were the last time they saw each other. I don’t think for a second Steve would “get back with him” even without Eddie, but Steve will always love him to a point. Billy’s focus on Part Three is less about getting Steve back and more getting him away from Eddie.

Q: Does Prism Eddie kinda still want Billy? I think about their post-cocaine bathroom all the time and how later he thought to himself he’ll always love Billy in a way, and I know you have said Billy is coming back for part 3!!!

A: Yes, there’s a part of Eddie that’s fascinated by Billy, strangely affectionate towards him (how he thinks of it, the way a cat is “affectionately” playing with a mouse) and they’ll have their own dynamic in Part Three, definitely. There’s a couple of scenes I’m insanely excited to write with the two of them!

Q: I AM VIBRATING OUT OF MY SKIN ABOUT “THE EVENT TM”!!! please can you give any hints?? we beg a morsel

A: ahh, I really don’t want to spoil anything so I’ll tread very carefully. Hmm, I suppose I could say that the Event (due in around 2-3 chapters time) is a catastrophe as of yet unseen in Prism for the fallout it causes and that it puts foundational cracks in everything.

Q: How do Eddie’s six play into the third part? I’m constantly rereading all their scenes, imagining their backgrounds, how they came to be where they are now. You’ve created this fully realised world and it’s just mind-blowing.

A: We’ll learn more about his six as the story unfolds, but for the most part, they can’t be brought in close to the “family” in the town yet. There will, however, be scenes where Steve meets them all in the next chapter or so!

Q: would you consider making any Prism merch? Would buy a journal or a candle in a heartbeat!!!!!

A: Ahh that’s so kind! I’d love to, actually. A journal would be SO cool!

Q: Hi!!! I love Prism WAY way too much and I think a lot about Eddie’s tattoos!!!! Do you think we could ever get to see what the finger tattoo/cult tattoo looks like? Or his wolf? The winged creature? Not that I’m obsessed at all!!?

A: Yes, I’d love to do that at some point. I could probably post the finger tattoo (sword through the sun) although I’d say to wait because over the next few chapters, there’s a couple of new additions!

Q: Hi Az!! Huge fans of you and Brooke! Can I ask how you manage to write SO MUCH and yet keep it so tight?🖤

A: That’s so kind! I think we have a very strict editing process whereby we both make multiple passes of a single chapter. I also tend to reread past chapters fairly obsessively, keeping track of continuity, dates, patterns. We ALSO have several docs for idea pools and detail tracking plus a VERY IMPRESSIVE timeline I made myself which I can’t post sadly because it’s full of spoilers. We work very well in tracking little things that would definitely get out of control otherwise, it’s a beautiful system.

Q: Do we ever find out what happened to Will?

A: I actually am not sure if we’ll share explicitly what it was that happened, as it’s equally impactful not knowing and casts a shadow either way, but maybe!

Q: in the Prism A/B/O verse, would Steve miscarry due to Billy beating him?😭😭😭

A: Sadly yes, and quite often.

Q: can we expect some Prism merch ?! 👀

A: absolutely, I’ll run a poll for what people would like

Q: Are there any plots or scenes in Prism that you and Brooke thought would go one direction but ended up being something entirely new or different when it was finished?

A: Yes! Several, actually. Most times when this happens, we sort of lay it out and discuss it and the scene is usually very cold and brutal and then when we write it, it ends up being much more emotional than expected. One excellent example of this is very early on in Chapter Three where Steve and Eddie first have sex. The scene when we planned/started writing it was so upsetting I actually had a panic attack and that’s not because it was graphic or cruel or anything like that, but just the fact that it was, as we had written it that way, very clearly a rape scene. We ended up rewriting it -you can see the change where Eddie pulls away and says “no, I’m not doing this, he doesn’t want it” and sits in the chair and then STEVE has to pursue Eddie, which was so much worse than it being point blank rape but it just evolved that way naturally. I think I experienced my first severe bleed with Eddie and how WRONG it felt to do it that way which was extremely unsettling and upsetting. We since have boundaries in place to help us with the more triggering elements, Sometimes, however, a scene just naturally evolves while we’re writing it and we go with it. The argument between Billy and Steve before the crash was much simpler in it’s planning, so watching it become what it did was amazing. Honestly though, the entirety of Prism has become far grander and larger than what we ever set out to do and encouraging the evolution of it is, I think, our finest trait as co-writers. Many incredible ideas begin as one of us saying in a voice message “OK, this might be too much, but--!’ and then the other being open and encouraging of whatever madness it is. Prism really is the perfect example of what imagination running riot can do with a good support system. @thorniest-rose what were some of yours?

Q: Will Steve and Eddie refer to themselves as an official couple now that they both know how much they want each other or will it take a while for them to establish themselves as boyfriends? I know it didn’t really take long at all for Billy & Steve to be a thing, but with Eddie will they go the friends with benefits route or will they choose to take things ‘slow’ in their own flawed ways? - I know you guys have said, well as far as I can remember have said that Eddie won’t be physically abusive/harmful to Steve so I don’t expect that type of abuse, however we know that Eddie is still a bad, morally grey person and I can’t help but wonder if he’ll be emotionally, verbally, or mentally abusive to Steve? How will their unhealthy relationship dynamics come into play?

A: Steve and Eddie are absolutely not going to waste a single second of time in establishing themselves as boyfriends. This question honestly makes me giggle with glee because Eddie would marry Steve while fucking him while getting matching tattoos while on the way home from the church. It’s been such a long time coming and much of Eddie’s ability to be patient with the things he wants is cracking apart now. There will be no grace period. The world will know they are violently, desperately in love.

As for the second Q, this is far more complex and interesting. The easy answer is of course “No, absolutely not,” because Eddie loves Steve, he’s nothing like Billy and he’d never hurt Steve in any way he didn’t want – that’s how Eddie thinks of it. But the real answer requires the story to unfold more and as they become MORE entangled in one another’s lives and things get difficult, we see that Eddie does have the ability to hurt Steve and that Steve can hurt Eddie too. The unhealthy relationship dynamic will definitely be explored in depth as we get to see what them being ✨TOGETHER✨ really looks like and how it affects them as well as others. I think it’s best summed as this. When things are good, it’s fucking incredible, when things are bad, it’s like being at sea without a lighthouse.

Q: Are there any changes you would go back and retcon if you could before you started posting it? I Know you’ve said you both didn’t post until 50K and that you did make a few changes.

A: Honestly, I don’t think so. There’s only so much you can retcon and change before self doubt becomes a real obstacle in carving the path. I WOULD however establish from the start when Steve’s birthday was and construct the timeline from the inception as we came very close to being painted into a corner there! But otherwise not at all.

✨🖤🖤🖤✨

Thank you so much for all the enthusiasm and love!!!

✨🖤🖤🖤✨

[lancerliterature]

Just Relax

pairing: young john f. kennedy/reader

summary: the summer before his graduate program at stanford, jack kennedy brings his new fiancée, president roosevelt's niece, out on a sailboat for some much-needed alone time.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: 18+, smut, some swearing, mildly dubious consent

taglist: @raspberryknees @saturns-flowers @vlyofthedolls @fortheloveofjos @h-l-vlovesvintage @astro-vibes-bro @neverellaxx7 @maudesgf @southernpopprincess @melancholicstation @secretwonderlandcheesecake @kennediva

a/n: first of all, thank you as always to @vintagedebutante for the beautiful moodboard photos!

this fic’s based on a request i got a while ago for jack to be in an arranged kind of marriage with another socialite! i know it's short 😫 but i'm planning on posting another fic in the next few weeks. i hope you all enjoy this one!!

You’re watching Jack Kennedy sail his boat—how his flexing muscles shimmer like knots of cinnamon in the white sun, the way his golden-red hair ruffles around his ears in the fresh late-morning wind, the way his face glows pink from exertion and every few minutes he’ll mutter something like, “Easy now, just like that, there we are” while easing the long wooden tiller back and forth—when, suddenly, the boat rolls over a particularly big wave and you start slipping from your perch at the edge of the deck.

But before you even know what’s happening, Jack’s long, heroic arm comes swooping across your waist to yank you back to safety just as you’re about to tip overboard.

“I‘ve got you, I’ve got you.” You feel his voice, urgent but still self-assuredly calm, on your neck. Then you feel his hot, furry thighs as you stumble back—or what’s more likely is that he’s purposely pulling you—into his lap.

A quiet groan escapes you. This is the last thing you need. The whole reason you left the cockpit to go sit at the far edge of the boat in the first place was to try and put some distance between yourself and him.

“Are you alright?” he asks then, scorching you with one of those slow, coaxing smiles as he looms over you.

“I’m fine,” you say, and you realize from the sound of your voice that you’re a little breathless—but whether that’s from the aftershock of almost falling or the jittery thrill of being pressed against him, you aren’t entirely sure.

This little voyage at sea is the longest you two have ever been completely alone together. Sure, you’ve been technically alone for hours in places like the cinema hall or a restaurant on all of those ridiculous “dates” your families would send the two of you on so you could be photographed together before they announced your engagement, but this is different. You’re truly alone, without another soul in sight. 

Normally when you two find yourselves truly alone like this, it’s only for a few minutes while Jack drives you home from one of those “dates,” and it doesn’t take long before neither of you can handle the tension any longer and he’s pulling over and unbuttoning your blouse. And you’re pretty sure he was envisioning something along those lines when he invited you and you alone out onto his boat the second his family’s breakfast picnic ended. 

Of course, you’re envisioning that, too. How could you not? For almost a half-hour now, you’ve been forced to watch him in all his masculine glory, commanding the sea against the backdrop of the shiny Kennedy mansion on the horizon and the flapping American flag on their beachside lawn. It’s stunning, the way Jack looks like the total embodiment of the youthful, all-American manhood that he and his brothers symbolize to so many. And the fact that he just rescued you certainly isn’t making matters any easier—because what you also can’t help but envision is the scandalous story that would smear across the society column of every major newspaper if an innocent, neighborly passerby boat happened to catch you and Jack with your hands all over each other in public, before you were married, no less. Your reputation would be in ruins. Your mother genuinely might never speak to you again.

The entire world, it sometimes seems, has been involved in every last little day-to-day moment of your courtship with Jack ever since your families first formally introduced you at a dinner party over a year ago now. But that’s the whole point, you suppose, behind two of the most famous families in America betrothing their two eldest children to each other. And now that, as of last month, you and Jack are officially engaged, the country waits with bated breath for the union between the handsome Kennedy celebrity—who, come autumn, will be galavanting off for his glamorous first semester as a graduate student at Stanford, where he’ll likely mingle among a swath of California’s finest singers and matinee idols—and you. If anyone asked, you would say that the most notable thing about you is that you’ve just finished your freshman year at Radcliffe College. A few years ago, you were dubbed “President Roosevelt’s favorite niece” by the New York Times, but in all honesty, you don’t actually have any reason to believe that your uncle prefers you over any of your cousins.

But still, under no circumstances, you tell yourself, will you let Jack make any sort of move on you out here on this boat. At least one of you needs to have your priorities straight.

“I told you not to sit up there, didn’t I?” Jack is saying when you snap out of your thoughts, tilting his chin toward the edge of the deck where, moments ago, you were peacefully sitting. “Remember this next time you decide not to listen to me.”

You can’t help but crane your neck back to try and study his face for some hint as to what he’s really feeling behind all the sarcasm. Does he pity you for almost tumbling overboard? Or does he think this whole situation is just plain funny? Though either one would be sufficiently humiliating, you’re sort of hoping that, whatever he’s thinking, it’s now distracting him from any dirty thoughts.

But, alas, he’s wearing his big, circular sunglasses, so it’s really no use trying to read him. Unlike the rest of his features, his eyes are always so full of soul and emotion, and whenever you can’t see them, he suddenly becomes so distant, like a calculating secret agent who’s completely anonymous to everyone he keeps tabs on yet somehow knows all of their darkest secrets.

Your spine tightens then when you hear the faint chug of another boat cruising by, but thankfully, when you turn to look, you realize it’s not coming close enough for anyone on board to see you in Jack’s lap. Nevertheless, you twist out of Jack’s arms, landing with a soft thud beside him on the wooden bench.

Jack chuckles then, a deep, slightly dark sound. You blow your bangs out of your eyes, trying your best to seem nonchalant while sparks go off inside of you at the sound of his laugh.

“Why’d you wanna sit so far from me, anyway, huh?” he asks, sidling closer simply because he knows perfectly well that you don’t want him to.

The sharp contrast between his dark glasses and the bright, sun-reflecting tape across the freckled bridge of his nose is suddenly making your eyes burn, and you stare down at your sandals. You start to open your mouth to remind him that now isn’t the time or place to do whatever he’s thinking of doing—but your voice dries out in your throat as he places his hand on your thigh and gives it a soft, playful squeeze. Oh, boy, you think. Here we go.

“What’s wrong?” Jack murmurs with exaggerated concern, an electric sound that’s followed immediately by the dangerous, hair-raising sizzle of his lips on your exposed neck. You suck in a sharp breath of air. “Afraid somebody’s gonna see us?”

He moves your hair to the side and kisses your neck again. And again. You know you should move away but the heat from his chest has welded your body to the bench beneath you.

When he speaks again, his voice is suddenly lower and quieter than before, like there’s something inside of him that he, too, is now trying to suppress, to wrangle into control.

“There’s no need to worry,” he says. “If there’s a photo of me bending you over the deck in The Post tomorrow, I’ll make sure none of the blame falls on you. I’ll say I grabbed you and you tried your best to get away but I just wouldn’t let you go.”

He chuckles again, and then, when you sense him suddenly pulling away, you can’t help but feel a clench of disappointment.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach up into the sails and bring the boat to a complete standstill in a whirlwind of brisk, whooshing movements. Then you’re being heaved onto his lap again, facing him this time, your knees thumping against the bench on either side of his legs.

You let out a small, shuddering laugh, pressing your hands to his chest. “Oh, come now, Kennedy,” you say. “As romantic as it sounds, we can’t actually—”

He cuts you off by popping open the button on your shorts.

You’re suppressing a grin as you try your best to push away from him, to squeeze your thighs closed. But his big hands close tightly around your hips, and in a sudden flash of riled-up aggression, he jolts you still with one sharp, warning movement. Almost immediately, you can feel bruises start to form under his fingertips, which makes your stomach somersault.

“Keep still, Y/N,” Jack groans between clenched teeth, the corners of his mouth fighting off a smirk. “Christ. You’re killing me.”

Left with no other choice, you settle back down into his lap, and you quickly realize exactly what he meant by “You’re killing me.” The inside of your thigh brushes against a bulge in his pants that, you can only assume, was created by the friction from all your inadvertent grinding against him.

A shaky gasp leaves your lips then as his long, knuckly finger slips inside your zipper. When that same finger starts to move in slow circles over your clit, your head falls back and you breathe “God dammit, Jack” to the sky.

“Listen,” Jack says into your skin while he kisses across the length of your collarbone, “I promise nobody’s gonna see us. We’re far enough out.”

He brings his free hand to cup your breast over your shirt, and your head tilts forward. Your forehead smushes against his, which, strangely, is kind of soothing. You take the opportunity to let out a deep breath.

“That’s it, kid,” Jack says, his teeth brushing against your lips. “Just relax.”

Into his mouth, you whisper the words, “I hate you.”

One of his eyebrows twitches up over his sunglasses. “Yeah?” he says, and he suddenly sounds even more feverishly out-of-breath than you are. “You hate me, huh?”

He laughs as his finger increases its pressure, and a wave of pleasure so intense you feel like you could vomit cracks through your body. So much for trying to relax. Your mouth falls open, and as you gasp his name, you notice his mouth going slack, too, as he watches yours. An odd, gratifying tingle shoots down your back.

He increases the pressure again. “How does that feel?” he asks, blinding you with the cocky glint of his teeth. When you don’t respond—because your deep-seated competitive side won’t give him the satisfaction—he closes your clit between his thumb and pointer finger in a gentle pinch.

You can’t do anything but groan as that watery pressure starts to reach a breaking point between your legs. 

In a last-ditch attempt to gain some semblance of control over the situation, you shove those god-forsaken sunglasses up off his face and back into his thick tangle of hair. But his eyes are so bright and so full of what looks to be some sort of boyish, appreciative awe as he looks up at you that, once again, you’re rendered stunned and powerless. You’re briefly reminded of that old John Buchan quote you always felt described Jack perfectly: “He disliked emotion, not because he felt lightly, but because he felt deeply.”

“Soon,” Jack says then, as if he’s been waiting to say this until his sunglasses were off and he could truly look you in the eye, “we’ll have our own house and the rest of our lives to be alone every single day.”

The sun starts to melt out from behind a cloud, and Jack’s eyes crease adorably around the edges as he squints up at you. You aren’t quite sure how to respond to his uncharacteristically sentimental remark, but in the end, you don’t have to. You hit your climax right at that moment—you aren’t sure exactly why. But suddenly your whole body is trembling, and you’re gasping his name into his neck, sinking your teeth into his stubbly skin, digging your nails into his shoulders. You feel his throat vibrating as he groans along with you.

Just then, you hear another sailboat come putzing by—and this one sounds only a hundred or so feet away. Immediately, you’re ripped from the throes of ecstasy. You sit back up, heart jumping into your throat so fast you almost choke. You feel Jack tense up, too.

But then the man at the helm of the boat waves and shouts hello, and you feel Jack relax.

“Ah,” Jack says. “It’s just old Mr. Newman. He can’t see well. Completely harmless.”

“Are you kids behaving yourselves?” Mr. Newman shouts jovially across the glittering water.

“Always, Mr. Newman,” Jack says, pulling his hand out of your shorts to wave back.

thank you for reading!!

[bigdsgirl]

Love Next Door Episode 12

look i had to watch sports and do chores (sigh), but I am HERE now. and i have THOUGHTS. because lovelies, we fucking MADE IT!!!!!!

these two dweebs, just kiss again. <3 with your banana milk <3

god these two are children i am cackling, they cannot admit what is happening!!!! lmfao!!!

seung-hyo is dying and i love it

not him offering her food. DEAD. I will not survive the episode.

and not her being like hey!!! only i get food offered by my man!!

WERE THERE ANY BUGS????? lol omfg.

the way they continue to revert back to their sassy selves each time they transition or deal with wild news 😭😭😭

"I've always been with you" BYE I AM DUST

not the going through their history through small touches. BYE.

okay now smooch. please for the love of god.

NO GIRL not the hair!!! KISS AGJLDGJAFGK

omg he is so happy with them cuddling <3 this man is over the moon.

i will be the using the shot of them on a bench as a background somewhere, mark my words. or it's going to be the center of a bullet journal spread because AHHH

omg mo-eum girl, rock the interview! you got this babe!

as a hiring manager at my work, girl you killlling it

oh hi mr. seung-hyo's dad! and other guy! are we about to brawl? kinda feels like it.

goodness that man is just... so fine. silver/grey hair is gorgeous.

this man is so confused lolw hat is happening

YEAH TELL HER YOU LOVE HER! AND HE CANNOT SWAY HER!

YEAH SHE IS SO PRETTY HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE HER???

HAHA OMFG HES GAY! GO OFF KING!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this. is. a. comedy. i. love. it.

well this changes everything and i love it <3 just two queens that are besties who work together <3

bahaha he's so embarrassed. i'm dying. the GROAN ma'am i love it

finally communicating, i love that. also she has a point! it's not her secret to tell! omg. and he's like "i married a baddie my god" and boy you are right.

omg "mom I'm an influencer now" omg she called it an influenza. I am using that now. ☠️

omg no not the blind date for seok-ryu

i have a feeling it will be the journalist and i will lose it

omfg his FACE when mom asked about the blind date. i will fucking die this is a comedy of the highest tier

cowards!!! you tell your biggest fan!!!

oh she knows. and a superfan would know! go off queen!

WE ADMITTED IT LETS GOO!!!

"I feel like my body and soul is refreshed and massaged" GIRL SPEAK ON IT!!!!!!!!!!!

not the flashbacks with everyone being like YOU ARE IN LOVE!!!!! and Mo-eum just in the background 😭🤭

Not her saying she's out of his league and that's why people never put seung-hyo and mo-eum together I LOVE HER

dear god if yeon-du is not her step daughter by the end of this show, I will be committing crimes of revenge. they are a FAMILY.

HELL YEAH MOM! Yeon-du should be her daughter!!!

ALERT! ALERT! GORGEOUS GREEN SHIRT ON HIM!!!!!!! I AM LOSING IT!!!!!!

he was built to be a dad, i luv him.

"arizona si, chicago no", what in the sam heck are these shirts, hilarious

he says look, i want to scream this from the rooftops that we are together. <3 and boy, I get it.

oh no girl. girl he is planning forever with you. oh no oh no.

oh girl, seok-ryu looks so cute in those PJs!!!

hahah oh girl you are going to regret saying what you said. he says no one can know? got it, 12 feet apart at all times.

oh girl what the fuck why you do that!!!!! that's his phone!!!!

I am glad he is standing up for himself. because i agree, her behavior is not appropriate at all!!!!!!!

movie! date! making out at the movies! lets go!

adventure day with the fam let's freaking do it!!!!!!

are we CAMPING???? YAY! I love a good camping trip!

oh they are such a good team <3 cute cute!

Mo-eum is such a cool cat, i love her

jfc they are such a family already!!! barbecue! water gun fights!

did this show just say trans rights? I am electing yes with the umbrella shot 😎

we love a trip sponsored by electric cars. fancy!

the 🤌yearning🤌

omg the water spot on the shirt hot him bothered! ope! omfg not the giving her his FLANNEL!!!!!!!

my girl looks so good for her movie date!!!! eep!! oh goodie, time for her..... to experience the "no one can know". lol he's working on architecture project, of course. omg everyone is cuddling except them!!!!!!!! WAHH NOOOOOO

what a gorgeous sunset for these gorgeous people. ugh she is the cutest lil kiddo. omg. wait. wait. is it time??? are we gonna.... ya know, talk about it??

WAIT CAT I SAW A CAT!!!!!

god she loves this girl so much, how can you not want her as her step mom?????

holy shit. holy. shit. she said it. SHE SAID IT.

i am stunned. what a beautiful confession. MO-EUM MY GIRL.

yeah let's cancel the agreement!!!! it wasn't a mistake!!!

NEVER???????????? SIR????? 😔

No no no no please, you three deserve happiness and its with each other! please!

god damn it. Now she's gonna take the job in antartica so he doesn't feel bad.

HAHAH the hand reaching. girl just GRAB IT!

LOL the "you go in first"

oh no not the doc visit.

OH THANK GOD ITS NOT ALZHEIMERS! YESS!!!!!!! GOD BLESS!!!!

Due to stress and anxiety??? well I hope that is the case.... I am not a fan of this. hmm hmm hmm.

LOL HES SO HAPPY!!! My lil baby <3 he's such a drama queen.

like father like son :)

oh girl. oh girl. I laugh because you did this to yourself. you asked him not to bring it up!

ope a family dinner oh my goodness. my girl Tae-hui stirring the pot like the queen she is

omg seung-hyo is so nervous and she is SO JEALOUS

these two are children omfg, just communicate

PARENTS OVERNIGHT TRIP????? SO THEY WILL HAVE THE HOUSE TO THEMSELVES???? LETS FREAKING! GO!

love the fanny back good sir

lol them arguing and seok-ryu dying, i feel the same

OH BROTHER IS LEAVING TOO????

oh we about to fuck. shit. up! let's go!!!!!!!!!

the parents being so silly and jealous of each other

oh he GOT THE LENS -- that lens is way too big but i love the enthusiasm lmfao - he STUDIED

GIRL TIME! YAY!

boy call her she might kill you -- i hate to say it

omfg! bestie boy time too!! except these boys need to stop being awkward <3

God bless Mo-eum, she is the truly best friend to both Seok-ryu and Seung-hyo <3

Mo-eum baby you deserve the world <3 i hope he grovels so hard when he realizes how much he mucked up

god this show just nails friendships at all stages, acquaintances, work friends, new friends, new neighbors, long term besties as youth, young adults, later in life. just ALL OF IT!

NOT Tae-hui giving him WEDDING CUPS FOR THE TWO OF THEM??????? A QUEEEEEEEN.

omg he mad a pet house??? for the kitty?? the she saved??? that she is allergic to??? omfg. i am a mess. the baby house he made them, and the upgrade now!!!

WAIT THEY ARE THE BABIES OF THEM??? AHH!!!

SHE WAS HIS FIRST CLIENT!!!! HE MADE IT! FOR HER!!!! WAHHH

date night at the crib! screaming!

he is so happy she was jealous <3 h

he couldnt focus at work??? omfg girl you are wrecking him

"comic books in my room" ooooooo is that what we are calling it now??? heh!!!!

first time in here as a your BOYFRIENNND

he's admitting he went for HER! not the book!

omg he's admitting how nervous he was!!!!!!!

BOY IS IN PANIC MODE FROM DAY ONE!!!!!!!!! WAH!

YAY COMMUNICATION!!!!!!

she said, bad thoughts are fine 🤭 and approved bad deeds? boy we are in it NOW! the DOOR IS SHUT! EEK! THE LIGHT IS OFF? OH HELL YEAH! LFG!

[horizon-verizon]

Nettles is Daemon’s daughter and absolutely no one can convince me otherwise. First of all, her personality is incredibly similar to Daemon’s mother, Alyssa, which I don’t think is a coincidence. Both are anything but refined and ladylike, Alyssa is “as bawdy a wench as any barmaid in King’s Landing, as she herself was fond of boasting”, Nettles is “a filthy girl with an even filthier mouth”, both are tearaway tomboys, they are both described as not conventionally attractive, Alyssa has a broken nose and mismatched eyes while Nettles has a scarred nose and crooked teeth. And not only Alyssa, but also Baelon’s bravery, bopping Balerion on the nose, Baela and Daemon’s personalities all echo in Nettles, particularly in how she tames Sheepstealer. There are too many similarities between them for it to be random.

Second of all, if we look at Daemon’s reaction to “Rhaenyra’s” letter, there’s something a lot of people miss:

The prince greeted me politely, but as he read I saw the joy go from his eyes, and a sadness descended upon him, like a weight too heavy to be borne. When the girl asked what was in the letter, he said, ‘A queen’s words, a whore’s work.’

He was happy when he got a letter from his queen and wife, but became very sad when he read its contents, he was crushed with grief. He then blamed Mysaria for the content of the letter. This reveals several things:

1. If he lost attraction to Rhaenyra and was cheating on her, why would he be happy to get her letter ?

2. If he didn’t care about Rhaenyra, why would he be sad instead of angry ? Why did he feel no guilt or shame, or try to cover up the truth if he was cheating ?

3. If all he wanted to do was control Rhaenyra as a puppet, if he only cared about himself having power, why didn’t he fly back to King’s Landing after letting Nettles escape and come up with a way to gaslight Rhaenyra, who at this point was beginning to lose her handle on King’s Landing ? Wouldn’t he have wanted to prioritize winning the war ? Persuade Rhaenyra to name their son Aegon heir instead of Joffrey ?

4. A “weight too heavy to be borne.” That isn’t the reaction of a man who got caught cheating and regrets it, it’s the reaction of a man devastated that his queen and wife lost faith in him and made him choose between her and his daughter.

He blames Mysaria for the letter, instead of getting angry at Rhaenyra herself. Why is that ? Because he lived with Rhaenyra in an unconventional joint family for a decade and yet Rhaenyra is unable to accept Nettles and doesn’t trust him anymore. Rhaenyra and Daemon raised all of their children together. He likely expected that he’d be able to officially introduce Nettles as his daughter after the war. But those plans were dashed terribly.

Yeah, it's exhausting to point out all of the things you say abt Mysaria, Nettles, and Daemon time and time again over the past few years to people. As for Nettles being Daemon's bio daughter, I truly believe in it. At first I was like "🤨" but then "🤔" and now I've been on board for a while. It just makes sense to me, esp when you contemplate that Daemon absolutely would have been sleeping around on Rhea while a few feet/miles from the Stepstones or slept with some pirate or whatever. And yes, it adds so much to see Nettles act Baela-Daemon-like or have more...room to behave contrary to the ideal "lady" when she's had to look out for herself perhaps from very young childhood.

[imustbenuts]

nuts reading trigun in japanese 7 - filial piety, and meryl

my alternate readings/translation/interpretation of jp lines are for triangulation purposes and nothing else.

ch 10-12. a more general scattershot of a post than over analyzing the japanese texts this time round. i think meryl in these 3 chapters is the most interesting character for me. but mainly bc she seems to be carrying a baggage: her struggle with filial piety.

^OH's version

ソレが普通ですわよ That'd be the most common sense thing to do. それにもともと家訓からして『自立せよ』ですからね But our house's motto is to first be independent above all. ドライといえばドライなのかも Mine would just be dry beyond dry...

me: hm. an office lady in the context of being written in 1990s by a japanese guy. i understand.

(i actually prefer OH's version bc the implications of what shes saying is the exact same, but more importantly leads into this page)

いきついて見れば When I realized all that 何か大切なものを忘れてるのかも… Realized that perhaps I've forgotten something (filial piety) so important... 私… I...

(you can see how this raw translation fucking sucks. I'd reword it in a way that's along the lines of 'feeling so ashamed as to forget getting angry', but OH's version is a downright banger. 11/10 the implications of what she feels is still the exact same. love it a lot!)

right so.

filial piety.

filial piety for a lot of asians is... kind of hard to break down. but perhaps can be explained as "abandoning ones' parents is the worst sin one can do".

not being filial is an invitation to the most extreme judgement from relatives and outsiders in a society which upholds it as the absolute virtue. at least, for the most part. (late stage capitalism fucked it all up yayy)

abandonment can be in the form of presence and/or financial. if a child doesnt make bank to pay back for their parents raising them up, they're not filial. if a child is absent and not there to take care of their parent, thats not filial.

and not being grateful, not being filial, equals shame and warrants divine punishment. (check out folklores like momotaro and kaguyahime that touches on these themes)

meryl i think struggles with that bc shes likely an only child who is expected to work an office job after studying super hard for it, and is now living independently away from her parents. meaning, she is technically not present to take care of them, which in this context makes her feel immensely guilty.

to make matters worse, it sounds like shes one of those types where her parents possibly had to work a lot to pay for this and that, resulting in a severe lack of communication. so this compounds, and she can only write dry stuff in her mind.

milly, by the way, does not have this problem as much:

she has a lot of siblings who can shoulder the weight of it all together, so in terms of that filial piety stress shes not doing so bad.

Badwick, the focus of this arc, by the way, faces the same struggles with meryl:

i mentioned the financial part bc from how chill the parents are with him, i think its possible he was trying to sell the land for large sums of money for his parents to retire. theres an added level of resentment going on that complicates their dynamic, with a dead brother and a land that means too much to sell for any sum of money.

and also his parents are... too nice and understanding, jeez.

i dont think meryl has the resentment. i think her case was similar in that her parents worked hard to provide and kinda neglected her in the connection part.

ofc this might then bring up the question of, 'isnt filial piety kinda transactional?', and, yeah. it... frankly can be. some parents have weaponized it, knowing that a society which forces unconditional love and financial support from a child is a good retirement plan. and it sucks. nightow must have realized this and sidestepped it.

whether bc it will not be well received by the then jp audience or if he just doesnt want to tell a story about this, i dont know. there could also be the fact that the 90s was a bad time to be talking about securing retirement for parents when the economy was circling the drain.

trigun gets dark later. we are getting love and peace above all else, at least for now.

...hm something seems to be rising over the horizon. but we can deal with that later. domestic violence

also i think vash is the kind who would also be a filial son to rem. this aspect of him is just lurking silently in the background in hindsight. in a barrel.

(incidentally i think this is also why luida and brad got promoted to surrogate parents position in stampede. much to ponder ponder...)

[bullet-prooflove]

Underneath The Stars - Bottles x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @librarian1002 @thanossexual @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @adaydreamaway08 @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb

Companion piece to:

Inevitable - Bottles finds a letter on your kitchen table.

Prequel to:

Forward - You discuss your decision to stay in Santo Padre.

Tonight, Bottles takes you for a ride out to the desert, it’s something you’ve done a couple of times before because you love the tranquillity of the area, the spirituality. The two of you make a fire, you try to do it using the tricks you learned in Girl Guides before Bottles takes pity on you and uses his lighter to ignite the wood. He spreads his bedroll out in front of the fire while you toast marshmallows, waiting for them to crisp before popping them into your mouth.

You taste like burnt sugar when he kisses you under the stars. Your lips are sweet and sticky, and he smiles into your mouth because he likes you like this. Wild and free spirited.

He makes love to you in front of the fire. The glow from the flames illuminates your skin as he lays underneath you, his hands chasing up your waist holding you in place as he rolls his hips.

Already the pleasure is too much, the ecstasy chases through your veins as his cock rakes over that deviant little place inside of you. There’s a thrill in being out here like this but there’s also a serenity, a peacefulness that you never would have expected because you’re not just connected to him in this moment, you’re connected to nature, the universe.

It’s one of the reasons that Santo Padre is so special to you. However now you’ve had this job offer from the Robinhood Foundation in New York…

Your career had started there, event planning for Manhattan’s elite. Baby showers costing in excess of hundreds of thousands of dollars, charity events that were thousands of dollars per plate, kids parties held in museums that had budgets to revamp them into literal princess castles. You were excellent in your role, you’d made some big money but then you’d met Ben at a baby shower, and everything had changed.

“Don’t you think it’s excessive?” He’d asked you as you chaperoned a birthday party for a one-year-old which cost over two hundred thousand dollars.

“What I think is irrelevant.” You’d told him, ticking a checkbox on your clipboard.

“If you ever want to change that.” He tells you, handing you, his card. “Give me a call, the charity I work for is looking for a fundraising director. I think you’re wasted here.”

He hadn’t been wrong; you’d followed him all the way here to Santo Padre. The work you did at the community centre was some of the most meaningful you had ever undertaken. You actually made a difference in people’s lives. You may not be making the same money as you did back in New York, but your heart was full and that’s all that mattered.

Bottles fucks you like it’s the last time because to him it is. He’d seen the letter from the Robin Hood Foundation on the kitchen table this morning, the start date set for next week. He can’t compete with a job in New York, not one with that salary. He would never ask you to stay, that wouldn’t be fair so instead he gives you something special to remember.

A night underneath the stars before you head back off to the big city.

He draws it out, keeping you on the edge until your skin is flushed and your eyes are bright. You kiss him when you climax and he drinks down your pleasure, savouring it because this isn’t going to happen again, and he wants to remember this moment every single time he closes his eyes.

In the aftermath, you lay draped across his chest, your legs tangled up in his. The blanket from the back of his bike tossed over the two of you.

I’m going to miss this, he wants to say, I’m going to miss you.

He doesn’t say those words out loud. Instead, he just holds you close because the love of his life is leaving in five days, she just hasn’t told him yet.

Love Bottles? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[days-until-burnout]

For whenever you're feeling better and refreshed and not burnt out!!! :

Scott x Impulse, romantic pairing, first kisses and/or cuddling perhaps?

(also!! Thank you for doing all of these stories, they're incredible!!!)

thank you for reading! and sorry i couldnt make them justice. _____

📧 Day 73 -

Characters - Impulse/Scott Words - 702 Time - 25 mins Content - Band AU

In between blinks and flashes of light, from one thundering moment to the bustling next, the show is over. The crowd is cleared out and they are ushered to the back, alcohol wipes for their faces and water bottles for their dry mouths. Everything happens quickly, at least their side happens quickly as they are in the car then their hotel room in a single breath.

(Well, more than that, but it feels the same.)

"Ough, I hate morning flights," Scott gripes from the en-suite. His voice is louder than his phone taps, which brings an amused smile to Impulse's lips. "Absolutely ridiculous. I'm going to have no time to get ready."

Impulse chuckles, sends the last few texts before pocketing his phone. "I mean, you don't have to get dressed up and all facied out."

Scott gasps, offended. "Public appearances, Impy, public appearances."

Impulse says nothing else, instead, he shoves the still warm towel on his face, rubbing a little hard to get all the glitter from his face. It had been at Gem's insistence, for their initial gigs, and now it became a stapple. Hate is a too strong word, and dislike is hardly comparable.

There is a quiet sigh as Scott saunters out of the en-suite, robe tight on his body, damp hairs shaken from his forehead, skin clear. Impulse gives him a look, and Scott can only dramatically fall on the bed.

Scott does not sleep, however, but he lays on his side, arm perched and apple of his cheek on the heel of his palm. "Well then, we have yet to discuss sleeping arrangements. How will we do this? I don't want to—"

"We'll share, that's what we agreed on. Did you forget?"

One thing, a very good thing about Scott's pale skin, is that Scott blushes easily. Noticeably. Not like those subtle blushes when he is teasing someone or playing a part, but a deep blush when he is taken by surprised. Like now, rendering him speechless as Impulse looks at him over his shoulder.

"Plus, the couch is too small for either of us. Gem, maybe, but she's got her room."

It happens between heartbeats, Impulse wipes the sides of his face, his hairline, then tosses the towel among the dirty pile. Nonchalantly, he makes his way to the lightswitch and turns it off, using his phone's light to guide him to the bed.

Every step, Scott follows, mouth agape and utter… blankness in his eyes. Unlike other times, Scott takes longer to recover and retort. Impulse will like to think it has something to do with tiredness, though he knows it has everything to do with the headlines from ealier that morning.

'Impulse isn't bad on the eyes,' Scott had said with that flirty tone of his, the smoothness and confidence that everyone knows and expects. It had been on defence of yet another rumor, something stupid Impulse did not even bother remembering. He had missed the interview, having been in another by himself at the same time because of some miscommunication. But he had seen the clip, and he had seen Scott stumble when Gem mentioned the possibility that Scott might like him more than just eye-candy.

Impulse is not one to rush to conclusions, but facts are facts, and his phone is telling him that is nearly midnight, so they should both sleep. He slides under the covers, leaning over to press a brief kiss in a still frozen Scott, something small under his temple, beside his eye. Not quite where he had planned, but the little light made it hard to aim.

"G'night, Scott. And by the way, I think you're good on my eyes, great even."

It takes a while longer, that edge where Impulse can only respond with a hum to Scott's voice, his eyes refuse to open and his pillow too comfortable. Despite that, his brain is barely awake enough to feel him, finally moving. Settling behind.

Nothing grand, nothing loud or flashy, just arms around his back, a burning face pressing on the back of his neck.

Impulse drifts off not long after, and he likes to image the whispered confession is not something he dreamt.

_____

sigh. brain will brain brain one of these days</3