#sexy space noodle

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

Call me crazy, but I think some space shenanigans might be afoot in the next Doctor Who special

Imaged submitted by @taraiha

[abswife]

modern gf! ellie headcanons

i'm in love with this woman so this is what she'd be like as your girlfriend <3

nsfw at the bottom mdni

you'd meet her at a vintage thrift store

you'd be there with a couple of your friends and one of them would be like "omg check out the hottie over there"

and you look over and it's ellie looking gooood

then she'd like trip over the carpet or some shit, looking like a dumbass and your friends would immediately lose interest

but not you

you'd be like hot and awkward??

hell yeah

i am a loser ellie truther i won't be stopped

ESPECIALLY modern ellie

like ellie without all of her trauma would be a total goofball lets be fr

so anyway, you'd find a way to talk to her

and you end up securing those digits

you guys would go on a couple dates and start hanging out a lot

you kept waiting for her to ask you to be her girlfriend but it just wasn't happening

so, you took it upon yourself

once you guys are official, she can be much more suave

however, she's still a goober

she would work at a comic book store

and even though she has tons of comics readily available to her, she still owns a like a whole plastic tub of them

wouldn't even put them on a bookshelf, just keeps them in a plastic tub

she DEFINITELY is still a space nerd

maybe she's a student studying astronomy or something

her idea of a date is watching a movie at home and eating ramen noodles lmao

idk why but i feel like when she's at home she just refuses to wear a shirt

like she is just constantly walking around in her sports bra

she also ABSOLUTELY owns a pair of dinosaur boxers and they are her favorite

her favorite pet names for you are babe and pretty girl

and probably like "my little crunchwrap supreme"

she's the type of girlfriend that would do stupid shit to impress you

like she'd try to jump over a trashcan or something in public and totally eat shit

absolutely oblivious to how hot she is

like girls will stare at her in public and when you get huffy about it she's like "??? what are you talking about?"

nsfw

she is usually a top but will bottom if you ask nicely

despite her awkward and silly personality, in the bedroom she's actually very confident and sexy

though she still likes to mess around and have fun

a MUNCH

she could eat pussy all day it's her favorite activity

when she uses a strap she acts like it's her actual dick

she'd have you suck her off and she'd be moaning and groaning like she can feel it

when she bottoms she likes to be spanked oop-

however a little more hesitant to spank you cause she's like "but baaabe i don't want to hurt you :("

though it doesn't really take much convincing lol

she's got a high libido

bby likes to fuck at least every other day like she's a horny little monster

[fkinkindagauche]

Beware the Suburban Lamprey

For @steddiesmuttyseptember week 2 prompt "bruise".

Rating: Explicit | WC: 1085 | CW: possessive behavior | Tags: hand jobs, a truly overwhelming number of hickeys

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure when his situation with Steve had started. He’d definitely grown fond of the man during the Vecna ordeal, and in the aftermath when Steve had helped him get to and from a million appointments without ever seeming put-out. The other feelings, though. The sexy feelings. Those had crept up seemingly overnight, and were much more difficult to handle. 

Steve certainly wasn’t making it any easier on him. It was summer, and Steve had taken to inviting everyone over to his pool, spending the entire time laying on a lounge chair with the world’s shortest swim trunks on. Steve had also been increasingly invading Eddie’s personal space. It seemed like he was always finding some way to touch Eddie - fingers brushing as he handed him a soda, hair brushing Eddie’s shoulder as he leaned over to see what Eddie was drawing, hand on Eddie’s waist steadying him when he nearly tripped on a rogue pool noodle. 

That wasn’t even the worst of it. He seemed to be flirting with Eddie. Which was really throwing Eddie for a loop, because he could have sworn Steve was the straightest of straight boys. It had gotten so blatant, though, that Eddie couldn’t ignore it. Steve had literally been batting his eyelashes at Eddie while sucking on a popsicle suggestively yesterday. Eddie felt like he’d stepped straight into the Twilight Zone, the only possible explanation for someone like Steve pursuing him. 

Today was even worse than usual. He felt like Steve was staring daggers into him the entire time he’d been playing a rousing game of chicken fight with some of the kids. He kept raking his eyes over Eddie’s body from where he was perched in his chair. As far as Eddie knew, his body was still the same scrawny, pale body with a few mediocre tattoos it had always been, and he wasn’t sure why Steve was trying to burn a hole into it with his stare. After a few rounds of chicken fight, he really couldn’t take it anymore. He retreated into the house, ostensibly to use the bathroom, but really just to get a breather from Steve’s gaze.    

He came out of the bathroom and ran directly into Steve. He squeaked and backed up into the bathroom again as Steve advanced, closing the door behind him. He looked almost angry, eyes repeatedly flitting to Eddie’s neck. 

“Hey, man. Everything alright?” Eddie asked, voice cracking a little.

Steve didn’t say anything, just kept walking Eddie back until Eddie felt the counter against his back and Steve pressed his chest against Eddie’s chest. Then Steve leaned forward and kissed him. 

Eddie let out a startled noise. He had thought Steve was about to yell at him, not kiss him. Steve pressed hard against his lips, and Eddie opened his mouth, his body responding even though his brain had stalled, letting Steve lick past his lips. Steve pressed his hips into Eddie’s and Eddie could feel Steve’s cock hardening against his. He moaned into the kiss and Steve took the chance to press his tongue deeper into Eddie’s mouth, tangling with Eddie’s own. 

Steve pulled away for a second to ask, “Do you want me to keep going?” 

Eddie nodded, too vigorously to maintain any level of chill. “Yes, please.” 

Steve kissed him again, hard, with teeth and tongue and very little finesse, honestly. He seemed hungry for Eddie in a way Eddie would not have expected. He pulled away from Eddie’s lips and trailed kisses down his jawline, heading for his neck. As he started to suck a painful but exhilarating bruise onto Eddie’s neck, he also stuck his hand into Eddie’s swim trunks.

Eddie gasped as Steve’s hand closed around his cock, stroking him. Steve kept sucking bruises into his neck and collarbone and shoulder, but Eddie was too far gone to spare more than a moment of worry about how he was going to look after this. 

Eddie fumbled for the waistband of Steve’s trunks, but Steve batted his hand away, pulling his own trunks down enough to free his cock. He shifted so that he was holding both his own and Eddie’s cock, lined up next to each other, then briefly reached over Eddie toward the counter.

When his hand returned Eddie could see a dollop of lotion in the palm, and then Steve started to jerk both of them off in one hand. Eddie watched, enraptured, then moved a hand down to join in. Steve didn’t bat it away this time. Eddie could feel an orgasm building embarrassingly fast as Steve lowered his head to Eddie’s chest, sucking even more bruises into his skin over his pecs. 

Steve took Eddie’s nipple into his mouth and bit down, and that was enough to send Eddie over the edge. He came into their hands, Steve following not long after. They stood there for a moment breathing heavily. Steve pushed away eventually, grabbing a hand towel to wipe the cum off of their hands and cocks. 

He looked up at Eddie with a satisfied smirk as his eyes ran over Eddie’s neck and shoulders. “Show those to whoever gave you that one,” Steve said, pointing high up on the left side of Eddie’s neck.

“What?” Eddie asked, completely confused. Steve turned him around to face the mirror, and he was stunned by the sight of innumerable bright red marks that would doubtless turn into bruises in a few hours. Steve pointed to an already formed bruise on Eddie’s left, standing out from the brand new marks. 

Eddie laughed and turned to face Steve. “That’s from a vacuum cleaner,” he said. “Gareth stuck it to my neck while I was asleep on his couch.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open. “You mean that’s not a hickey?”

“No, it’s not a hickey. Oh my god, were you jealous?” Eddie asked, delighted. 

Steve looked chagrined. “Maybe. A little. I’ve been trying to get in your pants all summer, and then you show up with that? I think I might have gotten carried away.”

“You think?” Eddie said, turning back to the mirror. “You’ve definitely staked your claim over Gareth’s mom’s vacuum, big boy. I look like I’ve been mauled by a lamprey.” 

Steve blushed. “Can this lamprey take you on a date to make up for it?” Steve asked, and Eddie turned back around, smiling. 

“Absolutely.” Steve leaned forward to kiss him again, and Eddie decided he would worry about how to cover up all these marks later. 

[dearest-nell]

turbulence

e. munson x reader, 1.7k

summary: you and eddie are taking your first real vacation together, but the turbulence of the flight is enough to make anyone regret their mode of travel includes: established reader x eddie, eddie being a comfort king, just a bunch of sweetness all round warnings: flight warnings, stormy skies, reader is terrified of flying and the flight is a bit rocky. no real danger.

a/n: shoutout to random images on pinterest for inspiring this one

How the hell you’d thought that this was a good idea was anyone’s guess. 

The idea had been so simple; you and Eddie had run yourselves into the ground to save up for your first overseas trip – his first one ever. Well… not quite overseas, though Eddie had very decidedly announced that Hawaii counted all the same. It had come from a thousand nights of cheap noodle dinners and canned tuna to garnish, leaving you sure that you never again would touch a pack of the grimy stuff. Double shifts and weekend overtime earned you enough money to get you to the airport, an excitable Eddie half trembling with the thrill of the journey. 

He’d been up almost the entire night before tossing and turning, eager hands squeezing at your waist as he tried his best not to wake you. Restlessness was par for the course with him, but even more so, this trip had him vibrating on an entirely new frequency. He’d never been out of state until he met you, had never seen a plane any larger than the size of his thumb held comparatively to the sky. The best part, though, was that he was getting to share this all with you. His life had been a constant stream of new experiences, a high he’d never had the pleasure of knowing until he felt what it was like to be loved so wholeheartedly by another. There was nothing so thrilling to him as the idea of basking in the sun with you, blissfully drunk and happily snuggled on a shared beachside lounge. 

Discount resort be damned, you’d been savvy in finding the best bargain the travel agent could offer. Eddie had never thought frugal spending could be so fucking sexy before. 

You, however, could not share his excitement with equal merriment. Sure, the holiday part sounded like a dream, and all of Eddie’s wishful thinking and imaginings had made you fall even more in love with the idea. Getting there, however, was another story, because unlike Eddie, you had been on a plane before. One time too many, if anyone were to ask. 

You did not like the small spaces, the recycled air, the uniform packaged meals that all somehow tasted like plastic. There was never enough room, always too much noise, and worst of all, nowhere to go. Every plane trip was spent with you counting down the minutes until your feet touched solid ground once more, a sensation you somehow seemed to forget with every passing travel until the next occurred. 

The dread had begun to build inside the airport, your hand clasped rigidly around the strap of Eddie’s backpack, his movements and your directions guiding your joined bodies through the chaos. If he knew something was wrong, he did not dare to comment. You were quieter than usual, after all, but it was easy enough to chalk that up to the obnoxiously early flight you were catching. It was cheaper that way, and you could sleep on the plane, you’d justified to yourself. The hour was enough to quieten even the most talkative of beings, twilight skies lulling Eddie to a gentle drawl as he rattled on about your upcoming adventures. 

Now that you were on the plane, though, it seemed all the worse. You’d been so brave through the takeoff, chewing on a pack of gum until your jaw ached from the tension, your hand tucked firmly under Eddie’s on the seat rest. You’d given him the window, his delight at the magic of flight distracting you enough until you were safely coasting through the sky. 

Eddie had chosen to sleep not long after, his head pressed to the wall of the plane despite the low rumbles, a position that could not conceivably be comfortable to anyone but Eddie. He could sleep anywhere, you’d learned early on in your relationship, and it seemed planes were no exception. You, however, were wide awake, trying your best to lose yourself in a book and suppress that nauseating feeling slowly taking over. 

It was within the hour that the turbulence began, gentle rumblings of the plane triggering that hazy green seatbelt sign to ignite. The captain warned that it would likely get worse before it got better, a thought that only exacerbated your growing anxieties. Eddie somehow slept through it all, even as the aircraft began to tremble and jolt. You didn’t want to wake him, not when he was sleeping so comfortably, still dreaming of all the good things to come. It felt silly to be frightened by such a small thing. Planes were safe, you knew that, but that seemed to be the trouble with anxiety; logic never mattered when the fear was so heightened. 

It was only when a terrified squeak left your lips that Eddie’s eyes flew open, his body shooting up rigidly in reaction to the sound. He’d have heard it anywhere, that terror, his body conditioned into a state of protection for you. The back of his hand wiped lazily at the sleep in his eyes, his body turning to face you on instinct. 

“What’s wrong? You okay?” You could hear the exhaustion that tinged his words, his eyes softening as he took in the fright in your own. 

“Its–” Your voice drowned out under the weight of thunder, the jolt leaving the tray tables to rattle in its aftermath. You couldn’t make your words come out, your lips hanging open in a frozen cry. 

Eddie did not need the clarification. He had never thought to consider you, his brave, sweet creature might have such fears, leaving guilt to turn sour in his mouth as it settled across him, knowing he had left you to face your fears alone. “Oh, sweetheart.” The solidity of his arms encased around you, tucking you gently into the curve of his side, hand cradling the back of your skull and the small of your back to shield you from the rest of the plane. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

“We’re going to die.” You whined, lilting in devastation into the fabric of his shirt. 

Eddie tried not to chuckle, his smile itching with amusement. “We’re not gonna die. We’re gonna be fine.” 

“We’re literally going to die.” You tried again, clinging to him until your knuckles were an ashen, bone white. 

Another jolt of the plane had you wincing, forcing Eddie to lift his gaze and observe your surroundings. Other than a few anxious fliers, most of the passengers were beyond asleep, tucked neatly into their own rows of the plane. No one else had much cause for alarm, the crew were muddling along their usual routes with a look of calm that even a professional could not fake. 

He dropped his attention back to you, slowly prying you from his side just enough to lift the armrest from between you, a reassuring arm scooping you now closer than before into his embrace. He could feel the tremble in your body as you burrowed your way into his side, trying to block out every other sensation but the feel of his body against yours. 

“You wanna know how I know that we’re not gonna die?” He asked assuredly, cupping at the base of your skull to prop your head against his shoulder, his grip firm and grounding in all the ways that were so incredibly Eddie. He felt you nod, hair slipping through the gaps of his fingers with every movement. 

“Because the crew aren’t panicking. No one’s brushin’ up on procedure or trying to wake everyone up. They're not at emergency stations. I’m pretty sure half of them are gossiping over there, can you see?” 

He lifted his hand to point, watching as your gaze followed the extension of his index finger, your lower lip dragging between your teeth to chew upon nervously. They all looked so calm, exchanging little whispered comments until one gentleman threw his head back in a silent laugh, shaking his head at his co-worker. 

“If we were gonna die,” Eddie continued, calloused fingers dipping between the layers of fabric at your waist to rub at your skin, letting the heat of his body lull you into further comfort, “then they’d be movin’ a hell of a lot faster than that, right? We’re gonna be fine, so you don’t gotta worry bout a thing.” 

He could see the contemplation simmering in your eyes, weighing up your fears with his logic, trying to discern where he line was. It was no easy thing to overcome a fear, especially one like this, but he loved you just for trying, even if your trembling figure only settled a little in his embrace. 

“Could you hold me anyways? Just until it goes away.” You turned to him with such sincerity, eyes widened and imploring in your gaze. 

He softened a reassuring smile in return, reaching to hook your legs over the nearer of his own, draping your body over his in whatever way these budget seats would allow. “I’m not letting you go, honey, not for a minute. I’ll hold you all the way there, so just settle in. We’re gonna get through it together.” 

As tired as he was, as muddled as he sure felt, Eddie did not mind staying up just to give you that peace of mind. His head fell back into the headrest, propping him up to keep watchful gaze on the comings and goings around him. It took the responsibility off you, feeling assured that he was there to spot if something went wrong along the way. Somehow, with his gentle movements across the expanse of your back and his steady, rhythmic heartbeat thrumming just beside your ear, you slipped out of consciousness, the exhaustion of this already long day finally dragging you under. 

Eddie was only able to notice once the turbulence subsided, expecting you to perk up with a surveying glance, only to find the rise and fall of your chest slow and drowsy against his own. He pressed chapped lips to your forehead, letting his own eyelids hang low as his vision faded drearily. He could sleep now, satisfied with the idea that neither of you would wake again until your hard earned landing was in sight.

[rerefundslocals]

drunk on lust j.jk

Summary : drinking night with your best friend spills the truth upon secrets within you both.

>>paring - jungkook x fem!reader (she/her)

>>trope - best friends to lovers

>>genre - angst, fluff(smut in prt2)

>>warnings/tags - horny Kook, feeling and confessions, some tears, not many warnings as smut is in part 2.

a/n - soo this was supposed to be one thing but until I actually know how to put the keep reading thingy, my first will be longer, don't be shy, please help. But for now please enjoy and give feedback through reblogs or inbox me! Not proofread

~★~

"C'mon give me a kiss- infact make out with me and then make love with me. Pretty please ____."

"Jungkook, you drink too much beer. You're drunk." Internally his words make you hot inside.

Your feelings are kept at bay because you don't really want to ruin the ten year friendship with Jungkook. Though you always dream about having him in not so innocent ways, but that doesn't mean you don't think of the softer side of it.

Dreams of you holding his hand romantically in public, give him kisses when you feel like it and make love to him just like he'd said a minute ago,but it must be the alcohol in his system.

So you don't let it bug you too much.

"I'm not drunk, I seriously just want you." He smirks at you. It's a lazy seductive smirk, and definitely soaks your underwear right through. But your mind tells you it's inappropriate because the man is clearly drunk ; karaoke mic in his hand, the beat of the song acting as background music for this conversation.

Lips pulled into a light frown, you tell jungkook that, "it's time for bed, Kook."

"So yes? You'll make out with me and let me fill your cunt?"

"Jungkook, stop! Just stop it." You're hot all over. You wish he could stop putting ideas into your head and just call it night.

Just like every other night, the next morning is a harsh hangover and forgotten words.

"I'm sorry, love, I really am." He mutters, head thrown back with eyes closed, clear to see he I lulling to sleep.

"It's okay, Kook." You whisper.

You move closer to him out instinctively ; cuddling into his warm chest, your hand reaches up to his hair as you lightly brush his scalp.

Besides his words and his flirty demeanor, you nonetheless feel safe in his arms and everything almost feels the same, as if he wasn't talking about filling your cunt.

You irraduclly swallow your spit at that thought, focusing back on your mission, putting Jungkook to sleep.

Mission successful.

You know this because his snores and the burning candle are almost in sync.

You move even closer, if possible. Face tucked into jungkooks neck and his tattooed hand wraps around your waist, the blanket falling off your hips.

That's a normal night in Jeons household, the conversation long forgotten about and the mission is just sleep now.

~><~

The next morning is a cry for help as you turn to Jungkooks empty spot on the couch.

You can hear him throw up in his bathroom, the sounds making you jump off the couch to help your best friend.

Sliding onto your knees, next to Jungkook, you bunch up his hair in your hands allowing him more space to throw up ; your head is turned to the side as you avoid the smell of black noodles and beer.

"Holy shit." Jungkook, now leaned up against the wall mutters as he removes himself from your body.

"You okay, Kook? That was pretty bad." You ask.

He nods at you, simply standing up to flush the toilet and you feel dismissed as he walks out on you,not even muttering a thanks.

You wonder if it's still the hangover making him behave like that. It could be. The alcohol can't possibly wear off that quick.

That's what you tell yourself 3 hours later, sitting in jungkooks bed, cleaned up and feeling fresh as ever.

Except Jungkook hasn't spoken to you the whole day, only when he asked what you wanted on your pizza.

He is currently sat by his gaming setup, dressed in his black Nike tech, paired with socks and slides.

Most importantly, his incredibly sexy glasses.

You snap out of your sick thoughts as you stand up from the bed to finally get down to the bottom of this.

"Jungkook, can we talk?" You ask behind him.

He ignores you. As expected. He only responds to his teammates on the other side, shouting over at them to 'take cover'

Sighing with a prominent frown on your face, you shuffle on your feet, feeling really really sad. "I'll go home then. Goodnight." Despite him ignoring you, you'd never miss the chance to kiss him goodbye.

So you do that, leaning down to place a peck on his toned cheek.

Grabbing your duffel with a weight of a mini fridge, you start packing in your dirty laundry and other essentials you had left out in Jungkooks room, tant you had planned to keep for the whole week you were spending with him at his apartment.

But not anymore, you guess. The guy doesn't even want to talk to you.

"Where you going?" Pulled out from packing, you look up at Jungkooks hovering body over his nightstand, where you stand.

"I figured you didn't want me here, so I'm just leaving." Your response is straight forward.

"Oh, who said that?" Jungkook chuckles. For the first time today.

"I dont need to hear it from you. I can see it. Ever since this morning! You say different shit the night before but you're a different, bitter person the next day!"

"So what___ you want me to repeat the shit I said? I know why I did this. I figured you were uncomfortable so I gave you space." Almost shouting in response, Jungkook keeps his cool, his voice at a lower bass so he isn't scaring you away.

"You what-? I never once felt uncomfortable. I wouldn't have laid up with you or tried to help you if I want fucking uncomfortable, Kook." By the time youre done, the room is dead silent. It's just you and Jungkook locking eyes. Difference is yours are slightly watery, the tears threatening to fall.

At the Crack of your voice, you speak up, "I have feelings for you, Jungkook. What you said last night was under the influence of alcohol so I figured it meant nothing. And it probably still doesn't." You pause.

"You don't have to reciprocate my feelings, if it makes things awkward,I'll leave. I really am sorry that things turned out this way." When done with you mini speech, you turn away from him, continuing to pack.

He so then starts, "look, I...have feeling for you too and how I went about wasn't the best way. Yeah sure I was drunk and said some sexual stuff, and I do understand now that I should've been straight forward but you wouldn't believe me anyway. So yeah, ____. I feel the exact same way." He finishes.

You both stare into each other's eyes, shock in yours and hope in his.

"You really- really mean that?" You carefully ask. Not trying to ruin anything.

His lips lift in anticipation. A loving smile. "I mean that. Sorry it took so long. "

"It's okay. I kinda liked what you were saying." The last sentence was meant to be playful and Jungkook catches on, as his lips lift into a smirk.

Walking closer to you,hands in his pocket, and nose on yours. He whispers in question, "wanna make it come true?" You nod at him.

"I do."

~♥︎~

Part 2 here

[rubyreduji]

birthday presents for a tiger — ksy

summary: it’s your neighbor’s birthday, you decide to give him a gift

tags: smut (minors dni!), neighbors!au warnings: explicit unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, masturbation, praise, back scratching, creampie, reader calls soonyong tiger lol wc: 3.1k an: this trope has been done a million times, i do not give a shit this has been on my ideas list for months now so hap birth hosh

Ever since you moved into your town home you have been…intrigued with your neighbor, Kwon Soonyoung. (He introduced himself to you as ‘Hoshi’ and it took you almost two months to learn his real name).

On weekdays he gets up early and comes home late but on weekends he’s the life of the block. He has a good relationship with the people who live next to him—Seokmin on the right, Seungkwan on the left—and they can always be seen hanging out on their front porches. Besides those two, it seems that everyone likes Soonyoung and his friendly personality. You're included in that mix, but you can’t help but get easily annoyed at him as well.

You think his tiger paraphernalia is a bit of an eyesore and sometimes he can just get SO loud and you don’t even want to get started on his shameless flirting. From the day you two met, Soonyoung has tried to put the moves on you, laying the charm on thick and always coming up short. Sure, he’s an objectively good looking guy and you do admit he is quite charming at times, but you do not fold for men whose pick up lines consist of calling you his ‘tigress’.

The flirting isn’t always the worst though. He always compliments you, which is nice, and he never hesitates to jump to help you with anything you may need. You also get a good laugh out of it if you find one of his pick up lines particularly silly. Soonyoung’s face always lights up when you do laugh and you can’t help but find his chubby cheeks and squinted eyes adorable. 

Then there was that one time you got stood up for a date and Soonyoung found you sitting on the curb, all dressed up and alone, and offered to make you tea. You two sat in his kitchen the whole night talking and you realized that he really is a sweet guy. Those feelings went away the next day when he wolf-whistled at you across the street, but you know, it’s a nice memory.

You tend to find the man most infuriating on hot summer nights, when he’s outside sharing a beer with Seokmin and Seungkwan, and he’s in nothing but a tank top and a pair of loose sweatpants. You may not be falling for his tiger growling he thinks is flirting, but you have found yourself daydreaming about his large hands and his plump lips and his toned arms and his pretty hair and yeah, you find your neighbor incredibly hot, so what? His hotness is outweighed by the annoyed feeling you get when you see him parading it around. Yes he’s sexy, he doesn’t need to show it off to everyone, especially unsuspecting bystanders like you. It’s not good for your heart. Or your panties.

The only thing worse than his porch hangout outfits is the day he helped you put your groceries away after helping you bring them in from your car. Your kitchen isn’t huge so there was minimal space for you two to work around each other, bumping into each other every so often. Then, THEN, as you were putting a can in your pantry, you felt his strong, thick body press up against your back. A shudder ran down your back and it stayed there when you felt his breath on your neck.

“Sorry,” he said innocently, “I’m assuming this goes here?”

It took you a moment to realize he was holding a package of instant noodles, reaching for a shelf. You had to take a deep breath to calm yourself before telling him yes. He then put the noodles on the shelf and pulled away, leaving you disappointed, wanting to feel him up against you even more. Feel him inside of you. After he left you ran up to your room to shove your hands down your soaked panties, furiously rubbing your clit until you came with his name on your lips.

Ever since then you’ve been slightly avoiding Soonyoung, while also trying to catch glimpses of him out your window. Luckily, Soonyoung is a ‘windows open’ person and it’s not hard to see into his house from your bedroom window across the street. At some point you realized that stalking him isn’t going to fix your problem and that just maybe you have to admit you have a crush on him back. You can’t tell him that though, after shooting down his flirting for over a year now. If anything, you want to avoid him even more.

The world has a funny way of working though, and avoiding him becomes impossible when you receive his mail in your mailbox. It’s a cute blue envelope with a tiger doodled on the front and when you turn it over it’s addressed to Hoshi, no last name, just ‘Hoshi”. 

You can’t exactly put it into his mailbox because the mail boxes at your town home have locks on them which means you’re forced to give it to him in person. You quickly check your appearance before heading across the street to Soonyoung’s home. You knock on his front door and you wait for thirty seconds at most before the door is swinging open.

“Oh, Y/N. Hi. I haven’t seen you around recently, I was getting kind of worried to be honest.” Fuck that’s so sweet of him. Damn it, why is he so cute?

“You could have texted me, you have my number,” you say, a bit of a cool tone laced in your voice to try and push your thoughts down.

Soonyoung just chuckles. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind if you go MIA again. So, what brings you around? Do you want to come in? I can make some tea.”

“No, no, I just had to give you this.” You hold the envelope out. “It ended up in my mailbox.” 

“Oh, thank you!” Soonyoung takes the envelope and opens it right in front of you. “It’s my birthday card from my friend Jun!”

“I didn’t know it was your birthday. If I had known I could have baked you a cake or something.”

“Don’t worry, my birthday isn’t for another two days. You can wish me happy birthday then.” Soonyoung shoots a wink at you and you ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest.

“Yeah, okay. In two days then.”

Well no backing out now, you think as you hit send on the text. 

You: happy birthday soonyoung You: look out the window ;)

It doesn’t take long for Soonyoung to appear in his bedroom window, his jaw dropping and his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

You’re sitting on your bed in front of your own bedroom window in nothing but a set of lacy black lingerie and a sheer robe over it. You wave at Soonyoung and he shyly waves back, his eyes still trained to your partly exposed figure.

You pick up your phone and hit call on Soonyoung’s number and you see the man scramble to answer the call, nearly dropping his phone twice as he does. 

“H-hello?”

“Happy birthday Soonie.”

“I-” You see Soonyoung swallow, before running a hand through his hair. “Is this my present?”

“Yeah, do you like it?” You stand up from your bed so you can remove your robe, giving Soonyoung a show as you do. You trail your fingers over the garters hugging your thighs before trailing them up your leg to rest on the waistband of the panties.

“Yes. So much.” Soonyoung’s voice is already a little breathy and you can see his fingers resist the urge to palm himself through his pants. “Fuck Y/N. You look so pretty.”

“All for you, tiger.” The name slips off your tongue and Soonyoung is groaning instantly. “I can show you even more if you want?” Your reach around to unclasp your bra, holding it to your chest not to reveal anything just yet.

“Please. I want to see you. All of you. Have for a long time. I need it.” You figured Soonyoung would be whiney in bed, but you weren’t expecting him to be this whiney. If you’re being honest, it definitely turns you on even more. 

“Anything for the birthday boy.” You drop your arms, your bra falling with them. Your tits spill out into the open and Soonyoung whimpers on the other end of the call. You shake your chest a bit to tease Soonyoung even more and he finally lets his resolve go, reaching down to palm at his already half hard cock.

You chuckle as you watch him rub himself, staring at your chest. You reach up and squeeze your tits, pushing them together before letting them go, allowing them to bounce back in place. It doesn’t take long for Soonyoung to discard his pants, pushing them to the floor. 

While Soonyoung is hastily stripping you move to your bed, kneeling on the mattress with your thighs spread to give Soonyoung a view of what’s between them. You reach down and start to rub yourself there, two fingers against your clit. The rough lace of your panties feels nice against the sensitive bud and it doesn’t take long for the fabric to be thoroughly soaked with your juices.

“I’m so wet Soonyoung,” you say. You pull your panties to the side so you can show off your dripping cunt.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung wheezes out. “Y/N your pussy is so pretty. Wanna taste it.”

“Aww, Soonie, do you wanna eat my cunt? Taste my arousal all over your tongue?” You dip your fingers down into your pussy, spreading your slick over your folds. You bring your fingertips back to your clit, rubbing there again. You know that this is all for Soonyoug, but you have needs too, and you need some kind of friction to soothe the ache in your cunt.

Across the street Soonyoung is shoving his hand down his boxers before pulling his cock out from the waistband. You lick your lips at the sight. His tip is an angry red color and while his length looks average, his cock is fat and you want to feel how heavy it is against your tongue. You wonder if he would be down to 69 so you get the best of both worlds. 

Your fingers work at your clit faster, needing to find your release soon or else you’ll go crazy. You can feel your cunt get wetter and wetter as you touch yourself. When you look out your window it’s clear that Soonyoung isn’t doing much better. His fist is pumping his cock fast and rough and you can hear his moans through your phone speaker.

The sight pulls a moan from your own lips. You decide at that moment you need Soonyoung in you more than anything.

“Soonyoung,” you mewl out. “Please come fuck me. I need it. Spare key is under the planter on my porch. Please.”

At your words Soonyoung is quickly shoving his dick back into his boxers and pulling his pants back on. He’s out of sight within seconds and it barely takes him a minute to be throwing your bedroom door open. You’ve moved so you’re laying back in the bed and Soonyoung quickly sheds his pants again before crawling over your body.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you,” Soonyoung mutters before crashing his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down even more so his body rests on top of yours. You can feel his cock rub up against you through his boxers and you cant your hips up to gain even more friction.

Soonyoung’s lips move against yours messily but neither of you care, too frantic to make the moment tender. You feel his tongue slip between your lips, hot and wet, and you allow him to explore your mouth. He doesn’t stay there long, too desperate to get his mouth on other parts of your body.

Soonyoung trails wet kisses down your neck to your tits where he sucks on into his mouth, his tongue running around your nipple. His hands continue to move down your body until one drags against your slit and you gasp loudly, bucking your hips into his touch. 

“Ah, Soonie, please.” You tug at his hair to get his attention. He pops his mouth off your tit and looks up at you with wide eyes, panting a bit.

“Baby?” The nickname has you groaning and you never want him to call you anything different.

“I need you to fuck me, tiger. Right now.”

Soonyoung nods, now determined to make your wishes come true. He quickly sheds the rest of his clothes before tearing your panties down your legs and throwing them behind his back onto the floor. You can see the way his eyes linger on your cunt for a second and you know he wants to dive in and have a meal, but he stops himself, moving to line himself up to your entrance.

His tip rubs at your slit for a moment, teasing your folds, before he finally pushes in. You let out a long, deep moan as you feel his thick cock stretch out your walls and bury itself in you balls deep. Your walls squeeze him tight and Soonyoung looks like he’s also struggling not to cum on the spot.

He allows both of you time to adjust before he pulls his hips back so just his tip is in you, only to slam right back into you. You throw your head back, your back arching away from the mattress. Soonyoung leans down again to kiss at your chest. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you tight so he can continue to pound into your velvety heat.

“Shit baby, I knew you would feel amazing, but this is heaven,” Soonyoung mumbles against your chest. “God you look so pretty like this, speared on my cock as I fuck you open.” He moves his mouth up to your neck, burying his face there. Just like that day back in your kitchen, you feel his hot breath on your neck, and it still sheds shivers down your spine. Only this time, you don’t have to get yourself off to relieve the ache in your core.

You bring your hands up to claw at Soonyoung’s back, digging your nails into his skin. You know you’re going to leave marks, and you file the thought of how hot you find that away for later. You can feel your lower stomach tense, signaling you’re close to your orgasm.

You wrap your legs around Soonyoung’s hips, pulling him into you farther. Soonyoung’s tongue is licking long stripes up your neck in between sucking at the skin and your skin tingles at the way you can feel him all over (and in) you. 

“Tiger,” you pant out, “so close.”

“Me too,” Soonyoung mumbles. “Where do I-”

“Inside. Cum inside me Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung growls, full on rumbles in your ear before his hips speed up their pace, fucking you even harder than before. You reach down between your bodies to rapidly rub at your clit and it only takes a few more seconds for you to completely let go, your legs tightening around Soonyoung as your clenches down.

Soonyoung’s teeth bite down on your shoulder, blood rushing to the surface of the skin, as his hips slow down, his slit pouring his thick, white cum into your cunt. When he pulls out of you, you can feel his cum slide out of you as well and onto your mattress.

Your pussy feels empty without him and you want him in you again instantly. You tell him so and Soonyoung is quick to turn you over, pulling your ass into the air. His still hard cock rubs against your ass cheeks a few times before he’s pushing into you once more.

The thirst in your mind and in your pussy is quenched at the feeling of him filling you up again. You wiggle your ass against him a bit to get him to move and Soonyoung lets out a soft laugh before starting to roll his hips in and out of you. His large hands envelope your ass cheeks, palming at the fat there. The combination of his cock brushing against your g-spot and his hands kneading your ass has your mind fogged with a pleasant hum and you feel content to do this all day.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, seems to have other plans in mind, wanting to get both of you to orgasm again. His hips snap into yours at a quick pace and your mind is so distracted with the pleasure you’re feeling you nearly forget to breathe. 

You feel Soonyoung trail his hand down your back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You bury your body further into the mattress, your back bending even more as you press your front down and your ass up. 

“You’re so good to me,” Soonyoung huffs between grunt, “best birthday present in a while.”

“Tiger, Soonie, you feel so good in me. Love your cock,” you babble, not completely coherent. Nobody can blame you though, not with the way Soonyoung keeps rutting his cock into you so his tip hits your sweet spot over and over again.

“Shit,” Soonyoung whines, “gonna cum again.” 

You know it hasn’t been long since Soonyoung started fucking you again, but if you’re being honest you’re close as well. Soonyoung reaches around your body to play with your clit, abusing the nub with his harsh rubs. You can’t do much other than clench down and let out labored breaths. It seems to be enough for Soonyoung though because his fingers slow down as you feel his hips stop moving as well. Soonyoung seems to realize his fingers have lessened in pace and he quickly goes back to frantically trying to get you off as he’s still cumming in you. You’re not sure how he can cum more than he did previously, but you’re not complaining, enjoying the full feeling he’s leaving in your cunt.

The feeling of his cum sitting in your pussy has your body shaking, your walls fluttering as you reach your peak. You mewl out Soonyoung’s name as your muscles give out, your body slumping to the bed. Soonyoung pulls his cock from you and flops down next to you, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he catches his breath.

“I- thank you,” Soonyoung says and you laugh slightly. “I’m not joking, that was like the best birthday present ever.”

You move so you can nuzzle your head against Soonyoung’s shoulder, pressing a kiss there. “So you don’t want the cake I baked you earlier?”

You feel Soonyoung’s chest rumble as he giggles. “How about we eat the cake, and then I eat you out after?”

You smile. “I don’t think my presents can get any better than that.”

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @wolfgurl2600-blog @spilled-coffee-cup @sulkygyu @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @jihoonliker @valentxi @0717luv @yeosayang @98-0603 @miriamxsworld @morklee02 @luvv4svt @tinkerbell460 @toruro @lllucere @niktwazny303 @im-gemmy @wonchansbrooklynn @wujihoons @prpldahy @ami-ioi @iwannabangchan

join my taglist: here!

[trainofcommand]

I'm just going to call this post Major Lorne Expressing Emotions

Yeah, okay, I will admit to a weakness for Lorne looking stern, and you know, like he's not going to take any shit. But! He's got range, right? Other emotions that show up on his face in ways that aren't 'stern'. So, let's appreciate them.

Let's start with this favourite: Stressed out, sleepy, hallucinating, Lorne. His hair is a bit messy! His jaw's slightly askew! He's not gonna let go of his certainty that his CO is actually a replicator. It's a good look for him, I'm never going to pretend otherwise.

Ahh, this one's just...disappointment. In himself. It's okay, Major, we can't hit our targets 100% of the time. Not even you! Don't worry. There'll be other chances to shoot a dart out of the sky! Like, probably too many chances. Honestly, you'll get blase about it. You'll be all, 'Oh, ho-hum, another dart shot down, that's life in the Pegasus Galaxy, I wonder what they're serving for dinner tonight, I hope it's those noodle things.' Trust me, Major. Things will get better. (Or worse, I guess, depending on how we feel about the whole 'there are so many freaking Wraith to get shot down' reality)

Time for some fun! Look! It's the rare Major Lorne smile of true amusement. He tried to keep it back. Tried to be all professional and serious and whatnot, because clearly, this is a serious situation. But also. It's so fucking funny. And listen, even a serious, stern Major sometimes has to laugh. A lot. In public.

Let's go with more amusement. Laughter is a good look on him. Let's appreciate it, and appreciate that it isn't all stern and focussed out here in the Pegasus Galaxy. Sometimes you get to laugh with friends! In space!

I'm just gonna label this one longing. Sure, sure, we could also say 'Ready to take his cue from his CO', or possibly 'OMG when are we going to get this show on the road?' but those are boring, so longing it is.

Also longing? Or possibly exasperation? Perhaps both?

Haha! Happy! Yay, your CO didn't die from breaking up in a planet's atmosphere! Everyone's a winner today. Including us, because of the grin. Also, the spacesuit. Spacesuit grin. I'm digging it. Nothing says sexy like a bulky orange suit, right? 100%.

For the final pic today, I present you with dubious. Good call, Major! Dubiousness is totally warranted here. Great instincts! You're adjusting to the Pegasus Galaxy really well! Nice eyebrow work, too, it really sells the whole thing.

(screencaps by @carsonsweebabyturtles, @dedkake, and @hero-in-waiting - if I've missed crediting anyone, please let me know and I'll add you)

[candywife333]

I Wouldn't Even Touch You with a Stick

PART 4 of Just Want to See You Like That

This series is based on Jungkook's 3D and is probably going to have close to 6-7 parts, depending on where the storyline takes me. I'm feeling a bit dramatic, so expect a lot of angst. Tumblr is going to be referenced in this fic under a different name, Bumblr (I know, totally goofy name).

Summary: Y/N, an overworked employee at HYBE , only ever posted on Bumblr when she was feeling cornered. It was truly her escape. She didn't really do insta or even twitter. Most people would look at her and think this glass wearing quiet girl would most probably be posting pics of flowers and cute animals. But no, looks could be deceiving. Y/N's posts were far from innocent. In fact , they were borderline risque. She didn't expect anybody but a few horny people to come across these pics; people who would view and compliment in the best case scenario. What she didn't expect was that a certain star would be a regular consumer of her material. A star that technically had no business simping after her like that.

Disclaimer: This work is not representative of the real Jungkook's personality and behavior. It is merely fiction and please treat it as such.

Trigger Warning: voyeurism, exhibitionism, some swearing

Please don't read the fic if any of these themes are disturbing or offensive to you.

Taglist is open

I was floored. I had to go to the get together I promised Tae I would attend. But overwhelming anxiety and panic were piling up into the crevices of my brain. Nobody was supposed to find out about my virtual alter ego. It was supposed to just stay a sexy risqué self exploration that never left the bounds of the internet. Now I literally had a celebrity on my hands who knew about my deepest darkest secret. How was he even consuming all the stuff I put out when his league was different. He had models and actresses and other singers at his beck and call, more beautiful than me. He could merely wink at them and have them dropping their panties for him.

Why the hell was he watching my cellulite ridden, thick jiggly ass and fleshy thighs wrapped in cheap red lingerie? He could have his pick of the lot but he was spending every other day commenting on how gorgeous my ass was and how he would love to bury his face in my pussy?!?!?

He has to be my Mr.DaddyofPop. He was the only one of my followers that had such prominent tatoos (as far as I knew anyway). I was flattered but utterly disgusted at the same time. This dude was a complete fuckboy, engaging in hanky panky regularly with literal staff ?!?! Unprofessional, unethical, and certainly lacking dignity. These were all good descriptors for him. He came off as a deep soul on his profile. But I guess the only thing really deep about him was how deep he could thrust into random girls on the regular.

I righted myself in the bathroom mirror, sprucing up my hair and applying some lipgloss and clear mascara. Well, if he thought he knew me, I would just deny it. After his blatant accusation, I had scuttled off nonchalantly, citing that I had some meeting to attend to.

Gathering everything I needed, and taking my bra off, replacing it with nipple covers, I walked out the door, into the crisp winter air ready to deny any and everything he was ready to label me. Acting obtuse would do the trick.

I didn't even want to attend, but if I did not, I would be forced to withstand the wrath of Taehyung. I got into a cab and was dropped off at a restaurant 5 minutes away. As I walked into the entrance of the establishment, I heard the boisterous laughter of many men. Taehyung caught sight of me and galloped towards me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, pushing me towards a massive table loaded with boys sporting branded clothes I could never afford. Noodle dishes of every shape and size littered the space , " Gentlemen, this is my wonderful, amazing friend Y/N. She recently got promoted from maintenance staff to admin manager. Give her a hearty round of applause please".

I blushed profusely as I saw many grins and heard the thunderous claps directed towards me. I sat down between Taehyung and Jungkook (who I despised at this point) as there were not many chairs left. The dude must've been inebriated because he was not even giving me personal space. His gargantuan thighs were spread wide into a position I disdained the most, the man spread. My particular compunction with this positioning was the same reason every time, it intruded upon the space of the person seated next to criminal ***cough, cough***, aka man-spreader.

My thighs were not dainty little ballerina limbs, so they did take up space. To my dismay, the disgusting man wouldn't even move his legs slightly to make space for me. He encroached upon my territory by jamming his bony knee into one of my plush thighs. Why couldn't he be like Taehyung, who had a sense of personal space.

I sat there minimizing myself into a tiny compartment so as to evade his touch. But Mr. StupidEntity did not get the message, and so even as I withdraw into myself even more, his freaking skeletal knee continued to lean up against my soft warm thigh. I gave up at a point, because if I were to continue caring, I would probably erupt like a volcano at the table, spewing insults and vitriol at him without stop.

As uncomfortable as I felt, I started talking to Namjoon and Yoongi as they started asking me how I liked the new job. "It is alright so far. Mainly secretarial work and keeping track of appointments scheduled for the different teams. The work is familiar to me, so I am not having any difficulty so far".

Namjoon smiled timidly as he crooned in his raspy voice, " That is great to hear. I remember Bang PD always praising you in front of us even a year back, telling us how efficient you were. We didn't understand why he was talking about a maintenance staff at the time. But when you were absent for even just a week last year, so many things started falling part. The cafeteria had run out of supplies for lunch that week because nobody had done inventory and the bathroom sinks were stuck because nobody was there to do a maintenance check on them. Even our practice room had a nonfunctioning speaker that you would have replaced, but since you had left, nobody else bothered".

Yoongi continued with a soft look in his eye, "If it weren't for you, my sound system would have died on me. It is only because of your regular checkups, that I didn't have to replace some of my equipment". I felt warm at all the praise, so happy to see that my work had made difference. I beamed effusively, elated at their acknowledgements ," That makes me so happy to hear. You don't even know how much all this means to me". Caught up in my jubilant glow, I was taken aback when I noticed a black beady glare filled with irritation pointed my way.

Partly disturbed by the continuous glare that I could drilling into my soul, I turned towards Jungkook asking, "Do you need help with anything Jungkook-ssi?" I shifted my upper torso towards him, to see what the issue was. It seemed as though the man was about to say something since his jet black eyebrows pulled back into pointed peaks, cynically shimmering in the light. Expecting a biting remark, I braced myself for the onslaught. However, I was met with a different predicament altogether. The maknae, ingenue, and Casanova of BTS fell onto my tits with a plop face first. His face was smothered into my cleavage, nose stuffed right between my breasts. Holy mother of Jesus!!! wHAT The FUCK Was I suPPOSEd to do?????

The previously loud table of people all became pin drop silent at seeing the rather mind boggling scene playing out before them. Some of the boys felt like they were hallucinating, particularly Taehyung. I was stunned for a second before, I attempted to get Jungkook off of me, his full dead body weight leaning up against me. I screeched in surprise, "Jungkook-ssi please get off of me". I pulled his arms away trying to disengage his soft lips from mouthing at my breasts. Wait. WTF?!?!! Why did I feel soft lips sucking on the skin of my tits?!!?!

I was becoming livid with anger. Not only could this guy not have any decency or manners, but he was literally harassing me in front of a bunch of people way above me. Even as I pushed very hard to get him away from me, I felt his massive arms come around my back, to encircle me in a rather... intimate embrace. He shoved his head further into my tits, almost shoving my shirt down enough to reach my nipples. Thank god for the nipple covers. He wanted to suffocate in them? What was this dude doing?

He whined out, "So soft and warm. Want to live here forever. Smells like home". He continued mouthing at my tits, now involving his teeth to create marks on my skin. All the boys at the table were stunned till Namjoon ran to us, and shoved Jungkook off. Jungkook fell off his chair due to the force of the push, and I covered my tits with my bag in front of me, adjusting my top as I ran off to the bathroom before Taehyung or anyone could stop me.

This dude was a menace, a literal menace. Was he a cave man or something, turning dumb at the sight of tits? He had been staring at them previously also, but why did he do something as ridiculous as this?He was risking his morality ,reputation, and name. As far as I could recount, nobody ever told me at HYBE that this dude harassed women.

Feeling flushed, overheated, and annoyingly enough, aroused to some degree, I adjusted the top after running a damp paper towel over my tits, to get his cooties off of me. I would need a relaxing bath to calm myself down. I shouldn't have even come to this outing. What a nuisance. As I slowly walked out of the restroom, ready to just clandestinely slip out the door of the restaurant to get back home, I felt arms around my waist stopping me. Taehyung whimpered out in distress, "Y/N we need your help".

I turned around to him , with a drained look in my eye, "Not now Tae. That situation was too much for me to process. I need to get home. Have work again tomorrow". He gulped as he squeaked out in clear desperation, clutching my hands in his, eyes looking down at the floor in embarrassment , "Jungkook said that he won't leave the restaurant unless he goes back home with you. He is fighting the rest of the members because he can't see you. Please Y/N! The guy is literally crying, refusing to leave until you take him with you".

I stood there alarmed at this situation. "What the hell do you mean tae? I barely even know the dude. He is so bloody weird. First he smacked his face into my boobs and harassed me. And now he requests to go home with me as though I were his wife or girlfriend?"

Taehyung gripped my hands tighter as he stammered out, " Please Y/N. I know it is a lot to ask, but he has been going through a lot lately, with all his activities and professional commitments. He seems like he is mentally breaking down right now, and if he was with you, he might not completely lose it. Please just do me this one favor. Host him for just one night at your house. Call me if he does any shenanigans and I will rip him away from you otherwise".

My resolve to avoid this dude drained away. I was exhausted. It would just be one bizarre night, that's it right? I would let him sleep the night and he would leave the next morning. Anyway, I had a taser on me. If he tried to get frisky , he'd be zapped the fuck out. I gestured to Taehyung ,"Well bring on the pain, why don't you"?

taglist: @fortunecookiesworld, @sporadicarcadebanana

@darkuni63 , @jessicalynn85 ,

[autisticlancemcclain]

“There is no way. You’re fucking with me right now.”

Shiro glares at her, arms crossed and bottom lip jutted out petulantly, because he’s 25 going on 3, apparently. “I am not. I am completely justified in it — ghosts are real. They are.”

Pidge throws her hands up, quickly scrambling on top of the couch cushions so she can look Shiro in the eye. She looks ready to kill. So does Shiro.

Lance is delighted.

”You are a man of science, Shirogane! You are a decorated astronaut! You have written papers —”

“Pidge fucking Holt our number one enemy is a zombie —”

“In what fucking way does a zombie prove the existence of ghosts —”

“In what way does it not —”

Keith slinks quietly into the room, sprawling half on top of Lance and turning his eyes to the arguing knuckleheads at the front of the room, because he has gotten way too comfortable in their time in space and thinks crushing Lance is funny.

“What are they arguing about?” he whispers.

Lance scowls, trying to push Keith off of him, but unfortunately Lance’s arms are kind of noodle-y and Keith is a stubborn jerk. (Lance can’t see him, due to the smothering, but he just knows Keith is smirking, like the butthead jerk he is.)

“I can’t tell you because your gigantic butt suffocating me,” Lance gripes.

“Spend a lot of time looking at my gigantic butt, do you?” Keith says blithely, and Lance flushes even though he knows Keith is teasing.

“Whatever, stupid-head.”

“Oh, ouch, McClain. Stupid-head? My inner four-year-old is smarting.”

“…I’m not telling you now. You don’t deserve to know.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find out —”

“Someone back me up! Keith!”

Keith startles at Pidge’s snap, which gives Lance just enough leeway to squirm out from under Keith and also kick him for good measure. Keith winces, because Lance is pointy, but otherwise continues to look handsomely smug, which is very annoying.

“Uh, what?”

Pidge glares at Shiro one last time because she is a youngest child and therefore incapable of letting other people have the last word (Lance knows, he does the same) before turning exasperatedly to her fellow arm of Voltron. (Shiro rolls his eyes at her like the drama queen he is. Lance loves this shit. He didn’t know what a dork Shiro was until he met him, and it is the greatest thing he has discovered, including Voltron. Sorry, Alfor.)

“Tell Shiro that he’s a dumbass and ghosts are not real in any way, shape, or form, because he won’t listen to me!”

Keith blinks. Then his eyes narrow, smile going sharp and cocky — his game face. Lance looks away quickly so he doesn’t explode.

Stupid sexy motherfucker. With his stupid sexy hair and face and smile and — whatever. He’s hot, is the point, and Lance hates it.

“As much as I love disagreeing with Shiro —”

“HEY —”

“— I’m on his side this time, dude. Ghosts are real as shit. I’ve heard ‘em.”

To say Pidge is incensed is an understatement. Lance grins, flipping over on the couch to hang upside down because he thinks it will bring the most comedy to the situation when he is invariably asked for input.

“So you’re both blatant ignorers of science, then!”

“Um, no way, pint-sized Dana Scully. The evidence is everywhere.”

Pidge hisses. Like, actually. As if she is a particularly angry kitten, or perhaps one of those little chihuahuas with rage issues.

God, Lance’s life is so good.

“Call me pint-sized again, Kogane, and I’ll deliver a pint-sized kick so far up your ass you’ll —”

Lance tunes them out for the time being, letting them continue to vaguely insult each other and not actually go anywhere in their argument. He instead busies himself with finding tiny little washers under the couch (left there from the time Pidge, extremely sleep deprived at one in the morning, mistook the common room for her workshop while carrying a box of loose parts and tripped over the couch, spilling parts everywhere) and throwing them at Hunk. The man ignores the first couple dozen hits — and they are hits, because Lance doesn’t miss — but after washer #46, he visibly snaps, setting his tools down in a very carful way that tells Lance that Hunk wants to kill him a little.

“Lance, I’m fucking busy.”

“Oooooh, are they any good?”

It takes a moment for Lance’s horrible joke to sink in. Hunk closes his eyes and sighs deeply, but the corner of his mouth is twitching and Lance smirks to himself.

Hehe. Point to Lance.

“What is so important that you must interrupt my very important —” he puts heavy emphasis on the words and stares at Lance pointedly, but Lance has lots of practice pretending to not understand things to piss people off, so it does nothing — “work by repeatedly assaulting me with I-don’t-know-what?”

“Washers that Pidge dropped,” Lance supplies, and then points at the three stooges. “They’re arguing about ghosts. Team Ghosts Aren’t Real is losing. Thought you might want to weigh in.”

Hunk looks incredulous. Lance doesn’t even pretend to hide his grin. “How is the correct team losing?”

Lance shrugs. “Dunno. Guess Pidge needs your arguing expertise and your patented look of disdain. You should join her.”

Look, Lance has never claimed to be subtle.

“Damn right,” Hunk says, determined, and Lance grins.

He loves having his own personal sitcom.

“Now what are you fools arguing about?”

The speed at which everyone’s head whips toward Hunk is comical. What is also comical is all three dorks make an identical face of relief, each one individually thinking that, of course, good ol’ Hunk is on their side.

God, this is literally getting better by the second.

“Hunk,” Shiro says, weariness leaving his face by the second.

Oh, Lance cannot wait to see it come back full force.

“Pidge seems to fully believe that ghosts aren’t real, even though that’s a ridiculous stance to take given our current circumstances.”

Hunk scoffs. All the blood is starting to rush to Lance’s head to the point where it’s hard to pay full attention, now, so he scrambles back upright and leans as close as he can. He will not miss even a second of this.

“Of course ghosts aren’t real.”

Silence. A pin could drop on the rug-covered floors and sound like a nuke going off.

They erupt at once.

“Hunk, how could you?” Shiro sounds heartbroken. He looks it, too, deep black eyes all big and sad like a hurt puppy’s.

“Hunk, you fucking traitor.” Keith is all hot and glare-y, but his stance is loose, playful.

God, Lance is so attracted to that man. It’s fucking ridiculous.

“That’s my man!” Pidge’s yell is louder than anyone’s, and she holds her hand up for a high-five. Hunk slaps it without looking, and the sound cracks through the room.

“Unrehearsed,” they say in unison, like the dorky nerds they are. There’s a second of unbelievably tense (and still a little betrayed, if Shiro’s expression is any indication — Keith has been absentmindedly patting him on the shoulder for the past few minutes) silence before everyone speaks at once.

“We fly magical robot lions —”

“Magic does not equate ghosts —”

“Yes it fucking does —”

“That’s so fucking stupid, just because one thing exists doesn’t mean another thing exists. If humans evolved the ability to breathe underwater it would not give them the sudden ability to fly —”

“In what way is that argument even remotely the same —”

“In every way, what are you even —”

Their argument is getting circular, so Lance starts to get bored. And snacky. Hm. He’s pretty sure Hunk is hiding that Beruvian wild rice grain in the top-most counter in the kitchen (the one only he can reach), and that shit pops deliciously, almost as good as movie theatre popcorn. And Lance is good at climbing shit, and also at stealing from Hunk.

He quietly makes his way out of the common room, taking his time as he walks to the kitchen. He won’t be missing any vital parts of the argument, he can feel it. He can afford to stroll. Mm, and think of all the salt and butter he’s going to put on the popped rice. Hell, maybe he’ll grab that weird spicy Altean soda that only he and Allura like, too.

Seriously. Murderous alien Nazis and crushing homesickness aside, Lance is living the goddamned life.

Allura and Coran are both in the kitchen when Lance walks in, and greet him brightly. Lance grins back and waves, but continues making a beeline for the counter farthest to the left and hefting himself up.

“What are you up to, dear?” Coran asks, sounding amused. Lance turns to wink at him.

“Shenanigans,” he says evasively.

Allura hums. “And would those shenanigans involve the destruction of my castle?” she asks, as Lance starts opening cupboard doors to use them as footholds.

“See, that’s the best part about being a stick, ‘Lura. I’m basically as heavy as a sad little puff of wind in the middle of the Arizona desert.”

“Neither of us have any frame of reference for that,” Allura points out.

Lance waves a dismissive hand. “Eh. I’m not going to break stuff, is the point.” He steps gingerly on the door of a particularly small cabinet, and pretends he doesn’t notice Coran blatantly standing under him with a hand out to spot him because he thinks Lance will fall and die.

How rude. Have they no faith in him? Lance is the youngest sibling of five. He is excellent at getting into shit he’s not supposed to be in. It’s, like, his superpower.

“Aha!” He finally sees it — a rough pink bag, pulled taut with the sweet sweet elixir of snacky promises. Hunk has made a valiant effort to hide it behind a couple pots.

He should know better, really. Lance has been stealing his shit since they were toddlers.

Lance carefully makes his way back to the ground — sticking his tongue out at Coran when he manages without dying, who raises and eyebrow and flicks Lance on the nose in retaliation — holding the bag triumphantly. He immediately starts rummaging around for a pan, some butter, and some salt.

“What’s the occasion?” Allura asks, poking at the bag.

“Drama in the common room.”

“Ooooh.” Allura perks up immediately, heaving herself up to sit on the counter to watch Lance as he works. Coran heads over to the fridge to grab himself a water and the two of them their fancy sodas, which he gives to them with a teasing grimace and a paternal hair ruffle (something they both pretend to hate but secretly feel all smushy about).

“What kind of drama?”

“They’re arguing about whether or not ghosts are real.”

“…Ghosts?” Coran says the word carefully, like he does when something doesn’t translate. Allura looks confused, too. Lance hurriedly wracks his brain for an Altean equivalent. He can’t think of one, so he goes with a description.

“Spiorad beoite,” he says after a moment of thinking. Animated spirit.

He’s proven correct when, at the same time, Coran lights up and Allura goes scowly. “Taibhse,” they both say, in exact opposite tones.

The first rice grain pops.

Lance grins.

“I think you guys should come back to the common room with me,” he says, after his rice is popped and seasoned and Allura and Coran have started a small argument of their own.

They do decide to come with him.

The three of them make their way down the hallways, Coran needling Lance for information the whole time.

“Who is arguing what?” he asks.

“Pidge and Shiro started it — team ghost and anti-ghost respectively. Hunk is on Pidge’s side, and Keith,” Lance, admittedly, smiles when he says the name, “is shockingly teaming up with Shiro.”

Lance sees the smirk spread over Allura’s face and realises a second too late what she’s going to say, and as such is not fast enough to run away before she slings an arm around his shoulder and holds him captive with her superstrength.

“I bet I can guess which team you’re on, Loverboy,” she teases. Lance glares at her, but it does very little because unfortunately his face is very red.

“Get off of me, you —” Lance tries very hard to think of an appropriate name to call her. Preferably something scathing and witty. “—jerky jerk face.”

God, he wishes the universe would smite him where he is standing. Why can he only think of good plans and insults when he is in mortal peril? What a fucking design flaw. Lance should take it up with a manager.

Allura bursts out laughing and gives him a noogie, because she is horrible and spends way too much time with Shiro and Shiro is a horrible, horrible influence.

“Oh, but Lance! I want to hear about Keith’s luscious hair! Or his dazzling smile! Or —“ she batts her eyelashes — “his sexy, sexy voice —”

Since Lance has about as much physical power over Allura as a butterfly does a mountain, he decides his best course of action is to screech at the top of his lungs and go limp. It works like a charm.

Lance decides to celebrate his newfound freedom by crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out at Allura, which in hindsight was possibly a poor plan.

“Oh, it’s on, you little runt —”

This time Lance’s screech is one of fear. The last time he’d seen that expression on someone — one of bruised honour — was the time he’d been caught using Veronica’s very expensive custom lip gloss in a ‘potion’. He’d barely escaped with his life.

Lance barely dodges Allura’s sharp jab to the ribs, and is ready to start sprinting away from her and her pointy fingers before a calloused hand grips the back of his hoodie and lifts him limply in the air.

“Children,” Coran says drily, holding them away from each other (and also somehow holding on to the popped rice and drinks?) and up in the air like particularly naughty kittens. “Save the bloodshed for common room. Don’t waste it here.”

“But she falsely accused me of being on Keith’s team for gay reasons! Who says I’m even on Keith’s team?”

“Because it’s true, you whipped loser —”

Coran shakes them both, and they shut up. “Are you going to behave for the two minutes it will take us to meet the others?” he asks. His eyes twinkle mischievously.

“Yes, Coran,” they chorus, and are finally freed.

They make it the rest of the way to the common room without incident, except for the four (4) occasions wherein Allura looked suspiciously like she wanted to Say Something, because she is horrible and has no respect for Lance’s already tattered dignity.

“All of you are ridiculous! The existence of the Blue Lion on Earth does not imply the reanimation of the human spirit!”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Allura agrees as she strolls elegantly in the room. She nods at Pidge. “That would be ridiculous.”

Hunk looks close to tears in relief. “Finally, someone with sense!” he cries.

“Now, now, lad,” Coran says, shaking his head. “While indeed, our wonderful Blue Lion does not prove the existence of ghosts, it is not for your reasoning — ghosts simply outdate Blue. There are hundreds of other proofs of the spirits of the universe.”

Keith holds out a fist for Coran to bump, looking smug. Coran shakes it — because Lance may, admittedly, amuse himself by wrongly teaching Coran Earth culture —but Keith looks unbothered. “Take that, Hunk. We have a wise Altean advisor on our side, which means we basically win by default.”

“We have a fucking princess!”

Lance grins as he tosses some popped rice into his mouth. Now that Allura has turned her evil older sister teasing and arguments on someone that isn’t Lance, he can enjoy himself again.

And enjoy himself he does. When he notices that Shiro has his crazy-eyes again, Slav-style, he decides to hand him a couch pillow. Shiro, so caught up in his surety that he is Obviously Correct, barely even registers where the pillow comes from and immediately lobs it at Hunk’s face.

There’s silence. A shocked, incredulous silence. Then Keith’s face lights up with unbridled glee — and holy shit, he has the most beautiful smile of anyone Lance has ever met and ever will meet — and he grabs his own pillow and smacks Pidge with it. The room ascends into wonderful, wonderful chaos.

Lance hurriedly sets his bowl and soda somewhere else and busies himself with handing ammo out to any empty hand — Coran in particular is going absolutely ham — shouting encouragement whenever someone lands a hit (regardless of the side), and —admittedly — simping a little over Keith’s rippling muscles.

(Look, he’s wearing that black sleeveless hoodie, okay? The one that fits his chest real well and shows off his biceps. And, well.

Lance has eyes.)

“Ugh,” Hunk finally mumbles, half-smushed under a pile of pillowed-out paladins and co. “Who won?”

Shiro and Pidge — who started it all — answer at the same time.

“We did.”

There’s a loud, in-unison groan from the pile.

Lance giggles. “Dorks,” he says.

At the sound of his voice, Keith shoots up so quickly that Shiro is thrown off him with a yelp.

“Lance!” He shouts it. Lance startles, staring back with wide eyes — dark brown meeting dusky purple. “Lance, you’re the answer!”

Alright, look. Look.

Lance is a human guy, okay? He’s just a guy. He’s challenge any other being in the giant fucking universe to look the love in their life in the eyes as they called them the answer and not, like, collapse. Lance is surprised his heart is still beating, Christ above.

“I am?” he squeaks.

“Of course you are!” Keith says it so earnestly. As if it’s obvious.

Lance’s heart honest-to-God skips a fucking beat.

“Our vote’s divided, shatz.” The closest Earth language to the Galran Keith’s speaking is German, and Lance’s German is rusty at best, so he has no clue what Keith’s saying. The word could be different, anyway. Lance tries desperately to convince himself it doesn’t matter.

“You could solve everything!” Keith continues.

Oh, dear God. Is he doing this on purpose? Lance is gonna fuckin’ die.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Pidge says from her position on top of Allura. “Tie-breaker, to say it in a less gay way.”

Allura snorts.

“Shut up, Pidge,” Lance and Keith snap at the same time. They look at each other, and then away quickly.

Keith’s face is as red as Lance’s.

Jesus fucking shitdicks, this will be how Lance dies.

“C’mon, Lance,” Hunk complains. “I want to be off this pile. Choose! Are ghosts real or not?”

Keith is looking at him so hopefully. It’s so cute. Pidge rolls her eyes, like she already knows what the answer is going to be.

And, well. Lance hates proving Pidge right, but he’s doomed! He’s doomed, when Keith is looking at him like that.

“Ghosts are very definitely real,” he rushes out.

Keith smiles so hard his eyes crinkle shut. Lance’s very favourite Keith expression. “I knew I could count on you, liebe.”

Vaguely, Lance hears Shiro’s muttered ‘oh my God’ and Coran’s blatant laughter, but all he can really hear is the blood rushing through his ears because holy shit.

“This proves nothing,” Hunk whines as everyone lethargically makes their way off the floor and to the popped rice. “Lance would be on our side if he wasn’t so disgustingly in love with —”

“OKAY THANK YOU HUNK,” Lance says loudly, and his entire horrible team snickers at him.

Except for Keith. Keith is looking at him almost… shyly.

“I have to be somewhere that’s not here,” Lance announces transparently because he’s a little too frazzled for excuses.

“Loser,” Pidge heckles, because she’s particularly horrible.

“Goodbye,” Lance says again. As he’s about to finally walk out the door, there’s a soft call of his name that stops him in his tracks. Lance swallows roughly.

“Yeah, Keith?”

Keith looks hesitant again, for a second. Then his eyes narrow, and his smile gets sharp and cocky.

His game face.

“I’m glad you’ve got my back, Sharpshooter,” he says. And then he winks.

Lance can’t even help himself. He practically flees out of the room. He doesn’t allow himself to stop until he’s collapsed in his bed face-first, and has a good, lengthy scream into his pillow.

Once he’s calmed down and his heart no longer feels like it’s been injected with pure cocaine, he sits up, props up three of his favourite stuffed animals, and looks at them intently.

“I think Keith was flirting with me,” he tells them seriously. Mr. Shark says nothing, but Lance can feel a giddy smile spread over his face anyway. “I think — I think he likes me.” He can no sooner stop the giggle bubbling up his throat than fly to the moon.

“I think Keith Kogane likes me!” He holds a pillow to his chest and flops back onto his quilt. He sighs to himself, kicking his legs out a bit. Yeah, he suffered quite a bit of teasing from the whole ordeal, but — but. He thinks he was right, earlier.

He really is living the life.

[the-grey-hunt]

Nona the Ninth chapter icons

it's time. i have my paperback, and i have the will, and this post will contain very many spoilers if you have not yet read Nona the Ninth. As usual my chapter notes contain what I think is relevant and/or the cause of the choice in icon

(note: the John chapters do not have icons. therefore they will be skipped, but their presence is noted).

gideon - harrow

(john)

DAY ONE

1- The locked tomb icon. General introductions are made. I assume the locked tomb stands for us meeting Nona.

2 - still locked tomb icon. General Nona backstory. It is implied that Nona doesn't have much longer.

3 - A tree with a single apple on a branch. Potentially an apple-of-Eden icon, especially as this is the chapter where school (knowledge) is introduced. The Angel and Noodle are also introduced.

4 - Seventh house skull. This plagues me as much as the fourth house skull in Harrow the Ninth's chapters. Why the seventh house? "For beauty as it blossoms and dies". This chapter features the Angel being worried, and Hot Sauce watching.

5 - Ninth house skull. Palamedes and Nona practice necromancy and talk about the blue light.

6 - Sixth house skull. Camilla tells a story, which includes how the Sixth House escaped.

(john)

DAY TWO

7 - Second house skull. Pyrrha bribes someone for Site C.

8 - Third house skull. Nona pretends to make a radio call to Crown.

(john)

9 - Sixth house skull. Flashback to the last time Camilla took Nona swimming.

10 - Slashed Second house skull. Pyrrha gets caught in a riot. But why slashed? In Harrow the slashed skulls represented false memories/Harrow's bubbles, but what's false or not happening or in the River about the Second here?

(john)

DAY THREE

11 - Fifth house skull. They discuss what's sexy. Blood of Eden storms the apartment. (again, the skulls of house members not present in this book plagues me. Traditions and debts to the dead. does pyrrha's opinion of "landmine people" being sexy count as a debt to dead Wake, enough to invoke the Fifth's skull? Is it something to do with Augustine?)

12 - Apple tree again. The meeting with We Suffer.

13 - Third house skull. Crown/Corona takes them to see Judith Deuteros.

14 - Locked tomb icon. Crown claims to know "what" Nona is.

15 - Seventh house skull. They hear about the broadcast. Nona tells Hot Sauce that she's dying.

(john)

16 - Icon of a tower with a pointed roof and shallow projecting windows, and a base with three arches. Presumably, meant to indicate the Tower in the river. The shadows are drawn as if to indicate there is space inside the arches where they're being cast across a floor.

The broadcast happens. Ianthe refers to herself and Kiriona as the Tower Princes.

(john)

DAY FOUR

17 - Icon of a plant with a few shallow side leaves and one large front-facing round leaf at the top with a pointed tip. The Angel has the kids at school make emergency shelter plans. Nona draws an animal.

18 - Eighth house skull. Palamedes asks the Angel if she has a House implant. The Angel considers this a fuckup and tries to have him and Nona killed. Hot Sauce shoots Nona for being a zombie (okay, I can kind of see the "salvation no matter the cost" in this).

(john)

19 - Opened tomb icon (broken chains, unshaded/white interior). Nona has a tantrum.

(john)

DAY FIVE

20 - First house skull. Corona reunites with Ianthe.

21 - Slashed Third house skull. Corona has a secret wire and is maybe betraying Ianthe to Blood of Eden with it.

(john)

22 - Slashed Ninth house skull. Nona is disguised as Harrow.

23 - Sixth house skull. Palamedes fights Ianthe for Naberius's body and wins.

24 - Gideon's skull icon (crossed-out IX, sunglasses, open jaw). Kiriona is found and starts participating.

25 - Slashed Gideon skull. Kiriona "brags" about what John has done to her and makes some demands.

26 - Fourth house skull. (Fidelity? Kids?) Nona talks to Honesty and Hot Sauce about the Convoy. Hot Sauce permits her to remain in the gang.

27 - Second house skull. Pyrrha reminisces about Wake to Pash. Number Seven sends in the heralds.

(john)

28 - Slashed Sixth house skull. Paul.

29 - First house skull. They prepare to return to the Houses. We Suffer issues them Protocol One.

(john)

30 - The Tower. Nona drives through the River.

31 - Ninth house skull. Back on the Ninth House. The devils are here too.

32 - Opened Tomb. Nona returns to her body.

Epilogue - First house skull. Alecto seeks out John.

you know what i've noticed? the john chapters only occur when Nona is asleep, unconscious, or similarly incapacitated.

[novankenn]

Custom Made Order

Deciding she had enough, Velvet kicked it into second gear and once she was in range, and that Coco had taken a moment to slow down to turn a corner...

Coco: (Once she stopped rolling) Ow......

Velvet: (Sits on Coco's stomach) You have some explaining to do... so start.

Coco: (Groaning) No, I've done.... (Velvet flicks her nose) Hey!

Velvet: Somehow you changed Jaune into a girl... an adorable girl, but a girl, and now Jaune is a half spider-half woman creature. What did you do?

Coco: I... um... I...

Velvet: Coco start talking or...

Coco: You wouldn't!

Velvet: Yes, I would. Now start talking.

Coco: Okay, just don't do that, okay?

Velvet: Start talking and I won't.

Coco: Alright, so I might or asked, and by asked I mean coerced the Headmaster into making me an elixir that would transform Jaune into a girl.

Velvet: How? Why?

Coco: He's got magic or something, I don't know. I just know it worked, and that noodle has become the girl of my dreams.

Velvet: Why would you do...

Coco: And let those legs and butt be wasted on Schnee or Nikos!?! She's too good for them! She deserves someone that will take care of her...

Velvet: But Jaune was a guy. Why?

Coco: The dance. I saw... I saw...

Velvet: What did you see?

Coco: My future. I saw my future, okay. That dress, Jaune's moves, told me he wasn't who he should be! So I worked out a deal with the Headmaster...

Velvet: What deal?

Coco: That I would turn his favourite coffee mug into dust if he could make Jaune become a girl?

Velvet: And WHY did you think that Headmaster Ozpin could do that?

Coco: Well, he DID do just that!

Velvet: But... but... how did you KNOW that the Headmaster could do what he did?!?

Coco: I don't know! He's old and stuff, so I just thought...

Velvet: Because he's old? You figured he knew how to make a body transforming potion just because he's OLD?!?

Coco: Maybe?

Velvet: What about the spider thing?

Coco: No idea. No idea.

Velvet: Okay. We're going back and...

Coco: (Starts to thrash and struggle) No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Velvet: Calm down!

Coco: She's going to eat me! She said it herself!

Velvet: For what YOU did to Jaune... she should! Now stop being such a pansy and let's go. You're going to apologize to Jaune, and then you are going to FIND a way to reverse this all!

Coco: (Crying) Please no!

/=/

Jaune was feeling strange, and she was sure it was more than just being mortally embarrassed about flashing the whole school, or mortified about now not only being a girl but also a half-spider creature. It was something else, something more insidious. She found herself eyeing Nora in a less than wholesome way.

Nora: Are you okay, Jaune-Jaune?

Jaune: (Blinking) Er... what?

Nora: You kind of spaced out on me there. Are you okay?

Jaune: I'm just not feeling myself.

Nora: Of course you're not yourself, silly! You went from being you to an absolute knock-out babe, and now are a super ominous and sexy looking spider woman! Can you smoother me with your boobies?

Jaune: (Blinking) Er... come again?

Nora: I said... Can you smoother me with your boobies?

Jaune: Ah... why?

Nora: Because they're massive, and I saw it in a movie once.

Jaune: Oooookaaayyyy.

Nora: Really? You will?

Jaune: Ah... er... no.

Nora: But you said...

Jaune: (Looks about herself and see people still staring at her.) I need some clothes. Can we do that?

Nora: Okay, but then we'll talk about you smothering me in your cleavage!

Jaune: Nora...

Nora: Jaune.

Jaune: Really? You really want me to do that to you?

Nora: Until I pass out!

Jaune: Can I think about it?

Nora gives Jaune a look, one stating she didn't believe her.

Jaune: I promise.

Nora: Arc's word?

Jaune: Yes.

Nora: Say it.

Jaune: (Sighing) Arc's word.

Nora: ...

Nora: YES! YES! YES! YES!

Jaune: Nora... I need clothes!

Nora: (Grabs Jaune by the wrist and starts to walk) Well, come on, then!

Jaune: (Struggles to hide her private bits with the lab coat) Wait!

Nora: NoPe!

[besidekick]

(more or less) tagged by @brofisting

tagging @witchertits @schadenfreudessa @studaslop @ganymedian and YOU, READER if you want to participate

[a-s-levynn]

@lovingache @reveries-of-my-mind @sleepanonymous Sorry you had to wait this much but i fell asleep and then work happend and i rewrote the entire post because it made so little sense and yeah..

I certainly can't be brief with this so i'm gonna insert a cut but if you are interested, this is what ST helped and still helps me work through during my still ongoing journey of selfacceptance.

It is kind of messy, there is a lot of rambling and wandering of thoughts but finally here it is.

A lot of this is, i'm sure of it, is going to sound very familiar to you because there is a reason we gravitate towards Sleep Token. Yeah memes are fun, much shapes, the guys are cryptids, Vessel has a nice body, III is the fun chaos noodle ballerina whatever, II is cute how he simps for Vessel from behind the drumkit when he isn't destroying it, IV is obejctively the sexy one and all the shenanigens. Whatever. We all know. BUT. If we are honest we love all of it because how it was built up. Because we are all a bit broken inside in ways. And we have a way to channel it in a way many of us never been able to before. We are allowed to be broken and exist in a space where it is okay. It is understood. Like.. Never in my entire life been so comfortable with the scars on my arms as is was when i was waiting in que before an ST ritual. Just sayin..

But back to the topic. Sorry i'm prone to wander.

It's hard to get this together in a way that isn't too much about me but it is not an easy task let me tell you. I'll put a link to an abbreviated version of how i got to be the person i am because it retrospectively will add some additional context to this entire thing, but that's fully optional. But first:

a little context on how i fell into the ST pit anyway: I first found them when the second ep released. I liked the look, i checked them out solely because that masked look interesting, but i really did not vibed with the music. I wasn't listening to the lyrics.

Next time they came into my field of vision before the release of TPWBYT. I still wasn't fully sold but there were a few tracks that got trough to me from Sundowning. Still not all of it. I wasn't paying attention still.

And then the end of last year came and something started an itch in my brain to take them out again.. and i finally sat down and read the lyrics properly. I never in my entire life sobbed so uncontrollably like when i first experienced Atlantic with actually paying attention to the lyrics.

And then the TMBTE singles started to release, then the album came. It's not a coincidence i said it's akin to a pilgrimage. It was an emotional pilgrimage to me, and still is every time i do it. And i was fairly normal about all of it. It hit me for sure, but i actually was lost when i finally saw them live. It just broke through like a dam in a flood. That concentrated energy is something that is hard to describe. Anyway. Now here i am.

So the things Sleep Token helped me with, that 10+ years of objectively unsuccesful therapy miserably failed to achieve.

being able to cry properly

being unapologetic about what i like

being able to start to feel my feelings

being unashamed by feelings that are generally considered problematic

being able to process in a much more healthy way if something is not okay in my head

ST gave me a healthier coping album to listen to when i'm on my lows

I'm not saying i'm perfectly fine by a weave of a magical drumstic, what i'm saying is that i stab myself significantly less when i can't focus for the life of me.

So maybe go over the bulletpoints i guess?

1. crying

With ST i felt finally seen in a way i never had before. I never was a cryer, but since i actually got into ST, i do sometimes. Not all the time but probably a far healthier amount then before. Because not crying is unhealthy. It doesn't make you strong and all that crap. It just adds to the unnecessary weight you carry. Some realize this sooner and i'm so happy for them beause it is important.

2. being unapologetic of my interests

I meantioned it before, an it was what sprang this entire long ass post to existance, but let it be here as well: i was unlearning a lot of thing and being apologetic over what i like is one for them. And i was progressively better and better at it, but like lately it just blew through the stratosphere because one cannot talk about Sleep Token and not sound kind of mental at least a bit. And at this point i don't give a shit. I like what i like, it doesn't hurt anyone. If someone laughs at me for it? Good for them at least i made them smile.

The context of this is a friendgroup i was in from around 14 to 20 and it had good paarts but ultimately was an emotionally controlling one, which i realized far too late. And it already created patterns and habits. Needless to say, i don't talk to any of them anymore.

3. feeling the feelz

This is where i'm going to start to sound really weird i think but who knows.. maybe more of you are in the same shoes than i would think.

From a considerably young age i was repressing basically every strong emotion possible. Happyness, sadness, excitement even anger to a certain degree. It started with the sadness, and emotional pain but as with everything it spiraled out to the rest of my emotions. I was also basically in a constant fight or flight mode which just propells you forward at any given time, when you should have stopped to feel shit.

And after a while that creates this weird dissonance of not really feeling anything and at the same time having the empathy, emotional maturity and social awareness to understand how others feel in given situations. Moreover i was acutely aware how i should feel in certain moments, it just.. never really happend. I knew the correct answers to the proverbial questions but my brain just put up a wall and never let me actually feel anything. I was simply empty.

This created the perfect blank slate for me to be the quote on quote emotional mirror for all my friends and even family at times. So usually people came and still come to me to be a sort of free therapist or something like that. Just spitballing what they are going through and reflecting it back to help them understand. And don't get me wrong i love helping people, i really do, and also when the conversation is over, some of their relief is left behind for me and it was at least something.

But at the end of the day i was constantly left with this feeling of "who am i in all this?" , "where is the person whom i can call me?" and that is a very lonely place of being. Especially when you are younger. (This is i think, at least partially, why i may have caught on to the vibe what Vessel supposed to be about. Because either i like it or not, i get what it's like. At least a version of it. To be so empty that anything and everything that creates the illusion of feeling something, anything, it is good enough for the moment.)

And here comes Sleep Token again. Because the songs are highly, highly emotional. And here comes the brilliance of Vessel as a character because by design a vessel is a blank slate. Could be anyone, because it is supposedly empty. Which is a very familiar state of being for me. And that is what made for me so easy to connect and by proxy going through the motions and start to get eased into being comfortable with feeling things again.

It still in it's infancy, that is why i'm a wreck at days, because i'm still relearning stuff that was last natural for me around two decades ago. But i wanna get there. When i can just feel, without guidance. But this is something none of my supposedly professional therapist knew what to do with.

And here comes this british sadboy with his masks and bodypaint and i'm finally nudged away from point zero? Yeah, you can bet your ass i'll take my chances and be grateful for the rest of my life no matter how far it gets me. If it is a tenth of an inch than it is a tenth of an inch. It is still more progress than i ever had before.

4. being unashamed of feelz

Sounds contradictory to the previous point but not really. If you ever felt.. for example let's say obession, true obession you know it's not like any other feeling. It works differently. Not easily controllable and it could lead to anger and rage, end in agression, all sorts of not so great things.

These are stuff we all try to repress for understanable reasons. This is the stuff we know are bad because they usually can lead to bad things. We hear it all our lives. They aren't bad. Not necesseraly. So we shouldn't be afraid to feel them. Not without understanding they are there, either one wants it or not. These are just as natural than any other feeling and no less dangerous than the rest.

They are part of the human condition. But we need to learn to live with them and control them. Repressed things tend to just explode one day and that is when the damage happens. When something can exist in a controlled enviroment, and can be observed from different angles it can be understood. And we are usually not afraid of things we understand. We deal with them. That is the whole point.

And yet again, obsession is a heavy and somewhat recurring theme in ST lyrics either actually or on a meta level if you pay attention. And the way it is presented and integrated into the whole of the story created with the discography is what solidifies it as, a thing than can be observed. It can be understood.

And the honesty of how it is presented what makes me comfortable with the fact that no, i'm not a freak, i'm not abnormal because of it. But there is a conscientious choice to be made how i deal with it. How i learn to direct it to something positive and create something with it, insted of going the other way.

It's like murder. Everyone thinks about it. It doesn't mean everyone is a potential murderer waiting to snap. Fuck no. But we do think about it. Is it okay to think about it a lot? It's not my place to decide how much is too much. But thinking isn't the problem. It is how we talk about the fact that we think about it, can be a problem. Anyway i'm diverging to much into philosophising territories. It happens, sorry.

5. processing the mess in my head

This is a pretty straightforward one actually. My mind is a mess. My long term memory is patchy, the short term one is barely existant. I understand a lot of the world in certain ways but i know so little in others. ST makes me think a lot more.

I always catch a word or a phrase or a line, maybe a verse, that lodges itself behind my eye for a time and i just keep it rolling. Associating on it, connecting it to other stuff. It stops me for a minute and forces me to roll an idea over and over and over and over again in my head and just run with it until i end up with some sort of epiphany.

It doesn't have to be a big thing, it can be the smallest thing, something like a shiny glass ball in a box of far more interesting toys. But it is my glass ball, I picked the colour inside.

6. a healthier coping album

Yeah this one.. So for the longest time when my mind got murky and getting too lost into the void, music was what could drag me out of it. Since i was a kid, the album that could kick me back towards the tracks was Phobia from Breaking Benjamin. I put it on an usually by the end of it i sort of was back on a functioning state. Not a good place but a functionig one. But if you ever heard the album in it's entirety, it is hardly an uplifting one.

Now when i feel low i roll the first two ST albums in sequence. By the time i reach missing limbs i feel actually better. My mom put it to words really well when she said "I don't understand the words of what this man is singing about but i can guess he is not happy. Is it about sad things right? I feel that. But i like it because it feels more comforting instead of making me sad as well." And that i thinks sums it up pretty well. Because it is no longet the outstreched hand of you-are-not-alone but the outstreched soul that cries you-can-find-yourself-in-me. And that is the definition of comforting for me. (Yes i love that phrace because it fits, let me be proud of myself for saying something that sounds good for once.)

And that is pretty much it for now. There should be a few more things ST is a reasonably large part of my self-journey but i've gotta think on it more i think. I'm not even sure i realize all of it.

I'll link a separete post here at the end which sums up how i got to this place i am. It is heavily abbreviated but it is still feels too long. It is certainly far more personal than this but i think it adds context to what was written above. But i don't want to clutter this one with that kind of personal stuff, also it's just an optional thing for anyone who wishes to maybe understand me a bit better and where i come from. [link to said post] Just for the record: this post does mention mental a physical abuse (no sexual one), self harm, mental issues, so all the fun stuff, but does not detail it.

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part XIV

Read Looking for Space here / Playlists / Read RFS on Wattpad

Word Count: ~3000

Warnings: sexy time ;)

<3

---

Indeed Josh was desperate–though thankfully not literally dying–to get home. With the green light from his doctor given that his heart rate improved and the antibiotics were in full swing, I gathered him into my car and we headed back to the apartment where his brothers still were. My tires crunched over salt and leftover snow as we drove into the monochromatic gray of our little world, the heat blasting over both of us but really so high just to keep Josh warm. He looked better–warm color had returned to his face and he actually appeared to be pretty well-rested despite not having slept in his own bed. 

“You’re feeling better?” I asked when we hit a red light. 

“Yes, mama. Certainly better,” Josh told me, then sniffed a little. “Thanks for doing all of this.”

“Anything for you.” I reached over to squeeze his knee. “I’m so glad you’re on the mend. I don’t want to bring you to the hospital ever again. Not for an illness, anyway.”

“I’ll do my best. What about you? I don’t want you to get sick either.”

“So far, so good.” I hit the gas again. “Maybe the universe knows both of us can’t be sick at the same time. But the boys are gonna stay today and tonight to help out and keep us company. They were coming up Thursday anyway. Might as well stick around now, right?”

“That’s good that they spent the night.”

“It helped. As soon as I got home without you, it felt intolerable.”

Josh let out a dry laugh. “I love you.”

I looked at him for a moment before I had to make a turn. “I love you more.”

In my peripheral vision, I could see Josh stare out the window at the snowy streets and say, “Impossible.”

Back home we were greeted by loud, excited jeers of triumph over Josh’s road to recovery as well as a few bags of sick staples–more soup and broth, more Gatorade, a package of those little boxes of fruit juice, some zinc, cough drops and a big box of Rocket Pops, which Josh immediately tore into. He plopped himself down on the couch with the Rocket Pop in his mouth while Jake sat down next to him, Sam paced the living room while monologuing about how disgusting hospitals were and Danny helped me put everything away. 

“You sure you guys wanna crash here again?” I asked him while he shoved the box of popsicles next to our other half-empty box of popsicles. “Don’t get me wrong–I love it. But I bet it feels pretty cramped. You should all be sleeping in beds.”

“We’ve agreed to stay here tonight,” Danny told me, balling up one of the empty plastic bags. “After that we’re gonna go back home.”

“Aw. Sam will miss you.”

“We live like, three blocks away from each other,” Danny replied with a little laugh. “So do you think Josh will be able to go to Thanksgiving?”

“I don’t know. Guess we’ll see.” I lifted a can of chicken noodle soup. “For now, this will have to do.” 

Jake ended up playing nurse more than I did–he spent the entire day doting on his twin, making sure he was taking his meds, feeding him, keeping him hydrated and comfortable. That gave me a chance to catch up on work, though Sam and Danny were distracting in their own right no matter what I did to try and carve out my own space. It was nice though, the coming together of everyone again for a prolonged period of time in a home base, even if that had been instigated by Josh getting sick. What mattered was that he was fully on the mend and we were all spending time together, and I found myself no longer thinking about death but rather thinking about how it might be possible to have this all the time. A commune was always sort of a joke idea, but couldn’t it be real? Why couldn’t we be tied together like one big, happy family? The boys had had that for many years. I was a newer addition. I wanted it to stay like that. I was pretty sure they all did too. Being apart made no sense and I got caught up in this fantasy while I tried to stay tied to my computer screen. Ultimately, no other place in the world felt as good as home did.

Things winded down even further after we all watched a movie. Jake, Danny and Sam took their respective couch and sleeping bag beds in the living room while I got some long-awaited alone time with Josh, who seemed absolutely delighted to be back in our bed. He snuggled back against the pillows in a clean set of pajamas–the fleece set patterned with puppies in Santa hats that I’d bought him two Christmases prior–looking cherubic and adorable and more healthy than he had at the hospital. 

Then he wiggled ferociously, hips shimmying on the mattress with an abundance of suppressed energy that finally could resurface. I smirked, standing in front of our dresser with my own pair of clean pajama pants waiting in my hands, and asked, “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I feel,” Josh began, bringing one hand down to his crotch. He grabbed himself, groping in a very uncharacteristic way that completely captured my attention. “Pent up.”

“Yeah, I bet,” I said, my attention drifting from changing my clothes to getting Josh out of his. “It’s been days since you…got off. Right?”

Josh nodded, palming himself through those silly fleece pants. It was one of those times where his almost innocent-seeming, unfathomably adorable nature butted up against the more robust biological male sex drive; how fascinating it was to see the mingling of those sides as often as I did. 

“Yeah. Days,” he said. “I think I need some help.”

I stepped over to the side of the bed, bending down to pet back the curls that had fallen down past his ears. His hair was growing out just a little bit. I secretly wished he’d let it all grow out completely and return to the wild, messy free set of long, sunkissed curls that I just loved running my fingers through. He looked up at me with the softest eyes, the dark, shiny irises reflecting the dim night table lamp, and I thought back briefly to the bachelorette party. 

“I have an idea,” I told him, already retreating to grab one of the gift bags that was still sitting in the corner of our bedroom. One peek inside allowed me to see that bottle of edible body oil–raspberry-vanilla flavored. Questionable, but certainly worth trying. With that now in my hand, I swiveled to face Josh again: “You should get naked.”

Josh gave me his best puppy dog eyes. “No foreplay?”

I shook the bottle, the wet, gloopy sound making him perk up. “This is all foreplay, baby.” Before I got ahead of myself, I paused. “I should get a towel.” 

I slipped out of the bedroom to the hall to grab one of our least desirable towels from the linen closet, then peered further down the hall to check on the boys–Danny and Sam were chatting, the TV blinking in front of them, and Jake was lounging beneath one of our extra throw blankets, the book in front of his face illuminated by the end table lamp. We were all basking in different lights tonight, I thought as I crept back to the bedroom, but I thought my Starshine was by far the brightest.

But he could also be the loudest. I grabbed the little fan from our closet and set it up on the dresser next to the humidifier for some extra white noise, pointing it away from the bed, and motioned for Josh to move to the side so I could lay the towel down. He got up entirely and stripped down to nothing, and I watched, soaking him up with my eyes. True aging hadn’t exactly hit either of us yet–sure, a few new, at first odd-looking lines had grown into our faces, our tolerance for certain foods had changed, hair grew differently–more slowly, it seemed–metabolism slowed down just a touch. More than anything, I could see that some of his juvenile, boyish looks had developed. But true aging was far off, I felt, and it was even further away for Josh, who continued to embody such youth and vitality despite getting older that it sometimes felt as though getting old would never touch him. 

Again, I thought as I dropped to my knees in front of him while he laid back on the bed, almost like he was immortal. That’s a big part of why him being in the hospital was so scary–because until that moment, Josh had seemed completely, totally untouched and eternal. 

I almost asked if he really felt up for a “full release,” but he was already hard and looking very eager, thighs spread and his erection firmly pressed against his belly. But I did remind him of one thing after I squeezed a bit of the oil into my hands: “You’ll need a shower after this. This stuff feels sort of sticky.”

“That’s okay,” he said, voice still a little hoarse but still an improvement from a few days prior. He laid back, propped up on his elbows, watching while I brought my hands to his calves. When my hands slid up to his thighs, he laid back flat, stretching his arms up over his head. “Nice and slow seems right. I’m beat.”

“I bet you are.” I broke contact to get more oil–it smelled okay, like the artificial raspberry I was used to from candy and a touch of sugary-sweet fake vanilla, but I was still a bit apprehensive about the taste. I worked my hands around his thighs, massaging gently and intentionally ignoring his most sensitive part; his quads were strong, perpetually taut, and his inner thighs were delightfully soft, his skin pliable as I worked my hands over them. I leaned forward to lick–mostly to try the taste, really, which ended up being a primarily bitter, fake fruit flavor. It made me pause for a second, which Josh noticed, looking down curiously. I slid my tongue between my teeth, making a sour face, but the after-taste was actually less unpleasant. 

“How is it?” he asked, still keeping his hands behind his head. I wasn’t sure everyone got to see it in action, but there were plenty of instances in which Josh could exhibit impressive patience.

“Not terrible?” I replied, then finally wrapped my hand around his cock, hot and hard within my palm, and Josh laid his head back down. The oil did serve as a solid lubricant, I could give it all the credit there–the slide was slick and easy but I went slow, massaging his thigh and up to his hip with my other slippery hand. I ran my thumb over the little slant of bone, fingers splayed over his side, then back down and around to squeeze his ass as best I could. It didn’t take much effort until Josh was whimpering–a little too loudly. I squeezed a little harder in warning and said, “Best to be quiet, babe. They’re not asleep out there.” 

“I’m too pent up!” Josh replied in a frenzied yet hushed huff, thrashing his arms. The whole thing made me laugh but I slid my hand back to his inner thigh, massaging again, and he stilled with a silent nod, pressing his lips together tight. So I carried on, petting his leg and up to his side while I stroked him, studying the slight curves of his body and the heat that was radiating from everywhere. Thankfully, however, it wasn’t a fever anymore. It was pure arousal, all those hormones festering for too long in that beautiful form. 

“You’re still the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I told him with complete intention, my eyes grazing from his tense neck down to the quivering belly. “Even when you have pneumonia.”

“You don’t get to talk if I can’t,” Josh replied, abs tightening while his cock twitched in my hand.

I laughed softly. “Fine, fine.” I brought my face lower while I pushed one of his legs to the side a bit. “Fair’s fair, I guess,” I added before I pressed my mouth to his inner thigh, beginning with a kiss, carrying on with a long lick and ending with a bite. With Josh holding back another whimper that I could see caught in his throat, I decided to go all in, swiping my tongue up his length while I gently squeezed his balls.

It still caught me by surprise how abruptly he came. I pulled back just in time to let Josh’s abdomen catch a bit of the release, the rest caught in my fist while I kept pumping him and, throughout it, he was biting his lip to keep himself as quiet as possible. His fists clenched the sheets until his knuckles were white, every muscle in his body visibly tightening and then contracting. He thrashed a bit to tell me no more, so I released him and wiped my hand on the towel beneath him.

I sat by his side, placing my cleaner hand atop his chest. “You should really breathe, though. For the sake of your lungs.” His heartbeat was strong, though–I could feel it beneath my palm.

Josh let out a long breath through his nose, then covered his mouth with his arm to cough a bit. “Sorry,” he said, sounding more spent than he did earlier, but in a good way. “Wow. Alright, darling, I definitely needed that.” He looked down at himself and groaned. “But now I do need to hop in the shower again and I really don’t feel like moving.” 

“If I could carry you, I totally would,” I told him, bending down to give him a long kiss, sickness be damned. “Want me to run you a bath?”

Josh’s hand gently clasped the back of my head, keeping me pinned in front of his face. “Only if you take the bath with me.”

I suddenly remembered the three other people in our apartment. “Maybe we should just make it a quick shower,” I said to Josh, looking behind myself at the bedroom door. “We’re not the only ones here tonight.”

Josh huffed dramatically. “They can hold their piss for a little while.” He rolled out from beneath me and got on his feet, taking the dirty towel and tossing it into our laundry basket, then planted his hands on his hips as he stood in front of the door. “Come on, love.”

I relented and, in the bath, I leaned back against the tub and held Josh between my legs. “I hate to say it, but you might need to skip Thanksgiving this year,” I told him as I rubbed soap beneath his armpits. “Do you think your parents will be really upset?”

“They completely expected me to miss it. My mom cried more than you did.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. It’s gotta be hard to see her baby in the hospital, even if you’ve been there like a hundred times before.” 

“Not a hundred.”

“Close enough. Too many times.” I ran one hand up to the back of his neck, massaging a little, and gave him the reminder of, “You’re not allowed to go back to the hospital ever again.” 

Josh laughed, turning his head to look over his shoulder at me. “What if I need to?”

“You won’t. This was enough for a lifetime.” I plunged my hands down in front of him before bringing the soapy water up to his chest, running them over his pecs and shoulders; he hummed contently and I moved my touch beneath his arms. The scrubbing motion of my fingers and palms made him start to laugh and wiggle, water splashing around us. I put my chin on his shoulder, turning to nibble at his ear: “Ticklish?”

Through more uncontrollable laughter, Josh said, “Yes, you know this!” He wiggled some more, slippery hands flying to my wrists. “Play nice.”

“But I love hearing you laugh like that,” I told him, although I did, after another second, cease the torment. I nuzzled into his neck, closing my eyes. “Even though I’m sure the boys have a very clear idea of what we’re doing now.”

“Spooning in the bath? They’re imaginations could never,” Josh said, flicking water away from himself to let it splash against the tiled wall. “So, doll–what’s next on our list for the wedding? I have to admit I haven’t been thinking about it much these past few days.”

I resumed rubbing his shoulders and up to the nape of his neck. “Me either. That’s been weirdly kind of nice. But I think we’re settled for a while. We finalized the cake order so that’s good to go. Everything else is set.”

“Except the ‘couple’s shower,’” Josh reminded me, tilting his head back to try and meet my eyes. 

“Yes, that. I’m glad we’re not just doing a bridal shower. So lame,” I said with a chuckle, twirling a damp curl between my fingers. “Not everything has to be so separate and weird. I need you there for that for sure.” 

A brisk knock on the door made us both turn our heads. “Hey, lovebirds,” Sam called out. “Danny’s gotta piss so can you wrap up whatever it is you’re doing in there?”

“He can’t ask us himself, Sammy?” Josh asked with a laugh.

“He’s shy,” I reminded him, patting his shoulder. “Okay. Let’s get up.”

---

Tagging: @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta @jjwasneverhere

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

[insanityisdivine]

Get to Know Me and My Obsession with KISS 🎸

Thanks for the tag @starry-eyed-never-satisfied

1. Who is your favourite member?

Okay. Paul is my first love but sexy Ace is competing with him but god I have to say Paul.

2. Who is your least favourite member?

Everyone saying Mark. I know nothing bout him

3. Best album?

RARO ...I'm assuming studio albums and live albums don't count???

4. Worst album?

I didn't listen to their last two albums and have no intention to do so ATM

5. Favourite song?

THIS IS TOO HARD TO CHOOSE. Guess I gotta say Love Gun Though But I love C'mon and Love Me!

6. Say one nice thing about each member.

Paul- He's the STAR of KISS. I probably wouldn't have gotten into KISS if it weren't for him. Everything I adore and want to be

Gene- I wanna listen to him talk while we share milk and chocolate chip cookies together

Peter- I have a soft spot for him. I think he can be really sweet and cute

Ace- Sexy, trashy, baby girl, sexy girl in hooker boots. Wanna bend over and smack that ass. He and Paul are my bisexual fantasies. BUT SERIOUSLY, The first guitar player that made me go WOW. Never got the hype about lead guitarists before but then I was thinking of 80s rock and 80's rock solos never resonated with me. His solos are iconic, not just shredding/mindless noodling. As someone who never learned how to read music, I think it's amazing he influenced many to learn. I'd love to learn how to play. Not to be in a band but I've always wanted to play a guitar. Also, I'd love to hang out with him. He's funny and bright. I think there's softness to him and I'd like to believe (coming from a fan, of course) that he's a good person. He also reminds me of my ex early 90s era....so I guess I have a soft spot for him

Eric C- I wish I could meet him. If I had to pick one member I could meet it would be him because I know he'd be super sweet

Vinnie- talented songwriter and amazing voice. Gorgeous

Mark- He did his job on Animalize

Bruce- Super sweet. He was the cutie of the group during revenge era ngl. Paul had competition.

Eric S- Seems really funny. got a nice tight body. seems every KISS drummer has a nice bod.

Tommy- Loyal and hard working. I can see why KISS kept him. Honestly he'd the kind of guy you want in your group.

7. What do you dislike about each member?

Gene- Condescending. I can see he has some views on things that I'd butt heads with him on

Paul- Overly critical of others, may come across cold. He scares me. y'all see his posts for new years???? He can come across very hurtful in his choice of words

Peter- Bitter (in the past it seems) and tbh some of the shit I read and heard that unfortunately was allowed to slide (sometimes even passed off as "funny" stories). It's a sensitive topic for me.

Ace- like Peter, awful things said and done that cannot be solely blamed on addiction which I'm very glad he recovered from btw. I'm honestly glad I never put this man on a pedestal and it's not just because "he's human like the rest of us". lol I love him but I'm glad I've been exposed to the bad early on this obsession so I don't have any unrealistic ideas about ppl, you know? I think I need to sleep with him to sort out these feelings lol

Eric C- I don't know that much to comment and feels almost unfair because he was taken away from us much too soon

Vinnie- stop scamming people omg. the insanity and charging ppl for memberships and you haven't released shit???

Mark- don't know about him. can't comment

Bruce- Maybe too nice for his own good.

Eric S- I don't know. Should have created a sex tape with Gene

Tommy- Kinda weird seeing him try to mimic Ace's facial expressions. One thing to imitate solos and his space persona but his mannerisms? I dunno just weird to see someone mimic what Ace's face naturally does? Kissy pouty lips only work for Ace

8. How did you get into KISS?

years ago, just bombarded with their imagery and sound on TV shows

9. Have you been to a concert?

Their last show. Crushing, I know

10. Do you have any merch?

I have a shirt

11. Unique thing you have related to KISS?

None, sadly. Like I have nothing solid if that's what you mean. anything that may have in common? sure but feels too personal to share here

12. Who is/are your favourite lineup?

This is hard because early 90s KISS was TIGHT. but I'll always love the original 4, but sweet Foxy and Brucie is so precious

13. What's your favourite era?

FUCCKKK....see this is hard. I have a big soft spot for Dynasty/Unmasked but I also love DTK and HTH

14. What are your opinions on Tommy and Eric?

They did their job. If they hadn't stepped in I wouldn't have seen KISS final show and for that I am grateful. I enjoyed their participation.

15. A question you would ask the band if you could?

I'd ask if I could suck their dick. That's tough. What haven't they've been asked before? Honestly I got some questions for Ace that's been bugging me and I know I'd never get them answered unless I knew him personally and had a real heart-to-heart conversion. I dunno I can only go off from a fan's perspective about how that'll go

16. What other bands/artists are you into?

Led Zeppelin, Madonna, Kylie Minogue, Lady Gaga, Stromae, used to really like Adam Ant, The Sweet, OLP, Franz Ferdinand, Daft Punk. I listen to all kinds of genres and artists so I like what I like

17. Do you have a KISSona?

Don't have one. I'm assuming like a fursona? lol

18. Who are some of your favourite blogs?

@ladyshandioftheendless @elrohare @silverstarfoxx (thank you for tolerating all my pestering! never hesitate to reach out to me for more Ace goodies!) @notpaulsguitar @ohblackdiamond (though tbh I swear you have answered this lol) @space-frehley-22 @spacefoxy (resident eric carr connoisseur) @speckster (you have crazy ass edits) and same goes for @bangbangyou love your funny memes. the IP address as a response always gets me lol @starry-eyed-never-satisfied (you already did this but adding you here anyway fellow Paulie enjoyer!) There's many more I wish I could just mass tag KISS blogs lol. There are blogs that are no longer active but I am glad they are still around

19. If you could spend a day with one member who would it be?

Hard because I love Paul but he scares me. I think I'd need more than a day to get comfortable with him. I'd love to spend a day with Eric C or Bruce because they seem the nicest. Maybe I'd love to hang with Peter now. Gene, may be fun. He's a good talker. Though it be fun to get one-on-one time with Ace. I'd love a tour of all his tech and then we can compare and just geek out on technology.

20. How would you explain the band to someone who isn't familiar with KISS?

I don't know. Honestly the other people who answered this already gave greats explanations. So many pass judgment on them without giving them a chance. They're a one-of-a-kind experience. There will never be a band like them.

[lumau]

I wanted to finish another drawing during @polyshipweek (inspired by various prompts, including Cinnamon Roll Protection Squad from Nozle's ship dynamics meme), but it didn't get past the sketch stage. I'll still share it, together with some hcs (slightly nsfw and kinky ones included) for an AU in which these five got entangled with each other in more ways than just crime solving.

Tang Fan:

Firmly believes that he is the littlest cinnamon roll of all cinnamon rolls and behaves accordingly. Would do anything for his friends. Now that he has more than one brat tamer at his disposal, it does not make him any less needy. The only one he is secretly afraid of is Ding Rong, knowledge that Wang Zhi is frequently using against him. With his dramatic antics he suffers the most prettily, so he is the most common to get wrecked (and makes it everyone's problem). Doesn't accept anything less than three bowls of noodles as aftercare.

Wang Zhi:

The actual cinnamon roll, but in denial (no one should dare to imply that towards him). It is not always easy to encompass the conflicting facts that he is both the youngest of the group and the 2nd most powerful man in the dynasty. Is making strides towards learning what he wants and deserves, but easily bristles when his inexperience becomes apparent. Has developed a habit of showing up at anyone's door at any time out of the blue and has no qualms to take up the most space in bed, even though he is by far the smallest. He has become the biggest flirt and the most touchy-feely once he learned how nice it is to have such a big, loving family.

Ding Rong:

Nobody really knows what he does most of the time. He is married to his job, aka Wang Zhi, a room full of meticulously sorted jars and 2 1/2 skeletons. Anyone who wants to get it on with Wang Zhi needs to get past Ding Rong's intense glare first. When they all get together, he is both the one who makes sure that everyone has all the oils, towels and implements they need, as well as the service top who is the last man standing at the end of a long night. He is also the kinkiest of the lot, his intricate knowledge of the human body combined with his sadistic tendencies make him light up as soon as any kind of edge play is mentioned. Might start to silently cry when held tightly for longer than 30 seconds.

Jia Kui:

After his retirement plan got forcefully cancelled, Jia Kui still doesn't quite know why he's here (tbh, same), but somehow, to his even greater bewilderment, everyone seems to love him (also same), even though he rarely talks and is mostly just there. He finds it kinda nice, though. Jia Kui gives the best of hugs and likes to join Sui Zhou in the kitchen, where they bond over cooking and military trauma.

Sui Zhou:

Similar to Jia Kui he isn't quite sure how he got roped into this new, big family life, but their community helps him to cope with his ptsd. It's hard to take his nightmares too seriously when burried amongst a heap of blissfully snooring men. He is appreciated by everyone for his cooking skills and his generosity, loyalty and his unobtrusive, pleasant company (as well as his great physique). He has learned that he does not mind sharing Tang Fan, in fact, it gives him fuzzy warm feels to know he is enjoying himself.

One would think that with five handsome guys there is a lot of action in the various bedrooms - however, given the stressful lives they lead, usually everyone just passes out as soon as they find a moment to lie down. With their youthful energy Tang Fan and Wang Zhi are the two most likely to initiate anything. The times when Sui Zhou and Jia Kui happen to get it on together are special highlights and have the others watching in awe (because clearly, they are a sight to behold!). In his efficiency Wang Zhi has tried to schedule regular sexy times, but after the third attempt failed due to some emergency or imperial affair getting in the way, he has now resolved to simply send out carriages to pull everyone away from whatever they are doing whenever he's in the mood. He has also now reserved a much bigger private suite at Huanyi Lou for such occasions.