#so all in all good hustle everybody

[homoangel]

review of sam saying no to lucifer in the cage in 11×10:

👏👏👏👏👏👏 king shit! you are doing amazing sweetie! you tell him lawboy! i love him fr

unfortunate that cas then went and said yes to him ten minutes later but like hey...

a. he did nothing wrong b. he was so sexy about c. i prefer trusting less dumb less ass d. he was literally so sexy about it? e. he👏has👏never👏done👏anything👏wrong👏 f. like? he had to do it or something it was an emergency

[harrysfolklore]

the bestest - lh44

summary: lewis hamilton wins the silverstone grand prix, and his daughter thinks he's the bestest. wc: 1.7k. based on this request

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The British Grand Prix always carried a unique significance, but this year felt particularly momentous. Fans filled the stands, waving flags and banners, their cheers echoing through the circuit.

For Lewis, this year felt extra special because his wife and little girl were joining him, and that was enough to give him an extra boost of motivation for the upcoming race.

Alana Hamilton is just four years old, and she's the light of your lives. She's a curious child who always has a smile for everyone, her bright eyes constantly scanning her surroundings for new wonders to discover.

And she has her father completely wrapped around her tiny finger, everybody knew it.

Alana clung to your hand as you made your way to the paddock, her eyes wide with wonder at the spectacle around her. She had been to races before, but this time she was more aware of her surroundings and everything happening.

“Mommy, look at all the people!” Alana exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she held your hand. “They’re all here for Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart, a lot of them are here to see Daddy race," you smiled at her, "He has a lot of fans who love to cheer him on."

“I’m going to cheer the loudest!”

Alana’s gaze followed every movement, her curiosity sparking with each new discovery. She was soaking it all in—the hustle of the team members, the hum of the engines, the vibrant colors of the team uniforms.

When you and Alana arrived at the team garage, Lewis was there, busy with pre-race preparations. He looked up, his face lighting up at the sight of his family.

“There’s my little girl,” he said, bending down to scoop Alana into his arms.

Alana giggled, her small arms wrapping around his neck. “Daddy, are you going to win today?” she asked, her voice full of hopeful excitement.

Lewis brushed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going to give it my all, princess. With you cheering me on, I have a really good feeling about today.”

As Lewis held Alana, George Russell, his teammate, walked by and smiled warmly at the scene.

"Well, if it isn't the Hamiltons, my favorite family," he said, his tone friendly and genuine.

Alana's face lit up with recognition. She remembered George from previous encounters and team events. "George!" she exclaimed, waving enthusiastically from her perch in Lewis's arms.

"Hello there, little champion," George chuckled, giving Alana a gentle high-five. "Are you excited for the race today?"

"Yes! Daddy's going to win because he's the bestest driver in the whole wide world!" she declared with innocent confidence, looking at Lewis with adoring eyes.

Lewis couldn't help but beam with pride, though he tried to maintain a humble demeanor. "Well, I don't know about that, sweetheart. There are a lot of great drivers out here today."

"But you're the bestest, Daddy," Alana insisted, her conviction unshakeable.

George laughed good-naturedly. "Well, Lewis, looks like you've got your biggest fan right here. No pressure or anything," he teased.

You smiled, watching the interaction. It was heartwarming to see how the team had become like an extended family, especially for Alana.

"Alright, princess," Lewis said, giving Alana one more squeeze, "Daddy needs to finish getting ready for the race. You be good for Mommy, okay?"

Alana's grip tightened around Lewis's neck, her little face scrunching up in defiance. "No, Daddy, don’t go!"

“Sweetie, Daddy has to race now," you gently stroked her back, "We’ll be right here watching him the whole time.”

As Alana clung tighter to Lewis, her eyes welling up with tears, you could see the conflict on your husband's face. He hated leaving her upset, but the race was about to start.

"Hey, princess," Lewis said softly, gently prying her arms from around his neck. "Remember what we talked about? Daddy has to go fast in the car so he can come back to you even quicker."

Alana's lower lip trembled, but she nodded, reluctantly loosening her grip. "Okay, Daddy. Be fast and be safe."

"I will, princess. I promise," Lewis kissed her forehead tenderly.

He handed her to you, and Alana nestled into your arms, still watching Lewis with wide, admiring eyes. He turned to you next, his expression softening.

"I'll see you both soon. I love you."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "Be safe out there."

With one last glance at his family, Lewis turned and headed towards his car, his determination renewed by the love and support he carried with him.

As you made your way to the VIP viewing area, Alana's eyes darted everywhere, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling circuit. The roar of engines filled the air as the cars lined up on the grid.

"Look, baby," you pointed, "There's Daddy's car. Number 44, remember?"

Alana nodded eagerly, her eyes fixed on the sleek silver Mercedes. "Go, Daddy, go!" she shouted, even though the race hadn't started yet.

Throughout the race, you explained what was happening in simple terms Alana could understand. She cheered every time Lewis's car came into view, her enthusiasm making everyone around melt.

"Daddy's car is going so fast! He's the bestest!" Alana exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder.

When the final lap came, the tension was palpable. You held Alana close, her little hands clutching your shirt as she watched Lewis take the lead. As he crossed the finish line first, the grandstands erupted in roars.

Alana’s eyes widened in amazement. “Mommy, did Daddy win?”

“He did, sweetheart!” you exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “Daddy won!”

"Daddy won! Daddy won!" she chanted, her voice filled with pure joy.

You couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, your own heart swelling with pride. "Let's go see Daddy, shall we?" you suggested, taking her hand.

You hurried to the pit lane, eager to congratulate Lewis. As he climbed out of the car, the sight of you and Alana brought a huge smile to his face. He reached out, and Alana practically leapt into his arms.

“Daddy!” she shouted, hugging him tightly. “You did it!”

Lewis laughed, his eyes shining with happiness. “We did it, baby girl.”

Lewis held Alana with one arm and reached out to pull you into the embrace with the other. The three of you stood there, a little island of family amidst the chaos of the celebration.

"I'm so proud of you," you whispered to Lewis, giving him a quick kiss.

Alana, not wanting to be left out, planted a big kiss on Lewis's cheek. "Me too, Daddy! You're the bestest ever!"

As the celebrations continued around you, Lewis kept Alana in his arms, not wanting to let her go. She had always been clingy with him, especially since he was away a lot of weekends for races. She missed him a lot, and every moment they spent together was precious to her.

When it was time for the post-race interview, Lewis tried to set Alana down, but she clung to him, her small hands gripping his suit. “No, Daddy, hold me.”

“Come on, sweetheart, let Daddy do his interview,” you coaxed.

Lewis looked at you with a soft smile. "It's okay, I'll take her with me. I'll pay whatever fine the FIA gives me," he said, adjusting Alana in his arms. You couldn't help but chuckle, knowing how much this moment meant to both of them.

As Lewis approached the interview area, he saw a familiar face waiting for him - Nico Rosberg, his former teammate and rival. Nico's eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of Lewis carrying Alana, a small smile making its way to his face.

"Lewis, congratulations on your win today," Nico began, microphone in hand. "And I see you've brought a special guest with you."

Lewis grinned, bouncing Alana slightly in his arms. "Yeah, this is my daughter Alana. She's my good luck charm today."

"Hello there, Alana," Nico smiled warmly at her, "Did you enjoy watching your dad race today?"

Alana, suddenly shy in front of the camera, buried her face in Lewis' neck but peeked out with one eye. "Daddy is the bestest," she mumbled.

The crowd around them collectively "aww'ed" at her adorable response. Lewis chuckled, patting her back gently.

"Well, Lewis," Nico continued, "that was an incredible drive today. Can you talk us through that final lap?"

As Lewis answered, discussing the intricacies of the race, Alana stayed nestled in his arms, occasionally lifting her head to look around curiously and playing with the zipper of her father's suit.

When the interview concluded, it was time for the podium ceremony. Lewis knew he couldn't take Alana up there with him, no matter how much he wished he could.

"Alright, princess," he said softly, "Daddy has to go up on the big stage now. Can you stay with Mommy and watch?"

Alana's grip tightened, her lower lip trembling. "No, Daddy, I want to stay with you!"

You stepped forward, gently prying Alana from Lewis's arms. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's watch Daddy get his big trophy. We can wave to him from here."

Reluctantly, Alana allowed herself to be transferred to your arms, her eyes never leaving Lewis. As he walked towards the podium, he turned back to blow a kiss to both of you.

You found a good spot near the podium, holding Alana up so she could see clearly. Her eyes widened as she watched Lewis climb the steps to the top of the podium.

"Look, baby," you said, pointing. "There's Daddy on the top step. That means he won!"

Alana's face lit up with pride and excitement. "Daddy won! Daddy won!" she chanted, clapping her hands.

As the British national anthem played and Lewis stood tall on the podium, trophy in hand, Alana watched in awe. When Lewis spotted you two in the crowd, he gave a special wave and blew a kiss your way, making Alana squeal with delight.

"He sees us, Mommy!" she exclaimed, waving back furiously.

You hugged her close, your heart full of love for your little family. "Yes, he does, sweetheart. He's waving just for you."

As the champagne spray began, Alana giggled at the sight of her daddy getting all wet. It was a perfect end to a perfect day, one that you knew would be etched in your family's memories forever.

[theundercoversquid]

All night

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles is worried about his car and you

Warnings: Fluff!

A/n: yes I know that it doesn’t work like this! But humour me.

A/N2: This may or may not have been sat in my drafts since Feb 24 2022...

Masterlist

Charles was an idiot. That much everybody could agree on. A lovely idiot. But an idiot nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry." Charles apologised again. His voice was small and sheepish as he looked at your unimpressed face. His arms were resting on the tail of his car.

"I'm not angry at you." You assured him. Your hands were on your hips as you stared at his car.

"Do you think you will be done in time?" Charles asked. His voice small and worried.

"I will." You assured him your voice filled with confidence you didn't feel. But Charles didn't need to know that.

"Really?" Charles asked. His face lit up like a kid on Christmas. And that face was the reason you would be pulling an all-nighter on the off chance it would let you fix his car in time.

"Really." You nodded, determination filling you. "But you should probably go back to the hotel.

"I'll wait for you," Charles told you.

"No, you won't." You told him. "You need to have a good night's sleep for when you race tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Charles asked you unsurely.

"Of course." You assured him. "Now, the sooner you go, the sooner I can get started, and the sooner I can be finished."

"Thank you so much," Charles grinned. Kissing you on the cheek before he whizzed out to tell everybody he could race.

Taking a deep breath, you put your headphones on. Putting your favourite playlist on shuffle, you got to work.

Charles bounded into the Ferrari garage. He hadn't seen you since last night when you promised him you could fix his car.

Charles hadn't seen you at breakfast, so he just assumed that you had headed in early.

But as Charles walked in, he could see his Ferrari looking brand new. And you were nowhere to be seen.

Charles spotted a post-it note stuck to the car, taking a tentative step forward. Gently pulling it off, Charles recognised your handwriting.

'All done! She's ready for your race x.' Charles read. Grinning to himself, he picked the note and searched for you.

But Charles couldn't find you anywhere. And no one had seen you. However, they were singing your praises for fixing his car. Frederic Vasseur had even gone to sing your praises to the rest of the world. Happily dropping the bombshell that Charles would still be racing, much to everybody else’s dismay.

Eventually, Charles had to give up on his search for you and retreated to his driver's room.

Opening the door, Charles swung his bag around to throw it on the sofa. Thankfully he caught himself in time as he spotted your prone figure curled up on his sofa.

Dropping his bag to the floor, Charles pulled his hoodie out. Laying it over your asleep body, he placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. Murmuring a quiet thank you.

Charles then left the room to warn everybody where you were. And unsurprisingly, no one suggested waking you up. After all that you had done, people didn't mind. After looking at the timings of some of the data logs, they were glad you were catching up on some sleep.

When Charles told Vasseur, all he did was shrug. Say that you probably needed it, and he would send you back to the hotel to sleep in a proper bed when you woke up.

And you did emerge not five minutes later. The hustle and bustle of the Ferrari garage coming to life, waking you up.

When you appeared at the entrance to the Ferrari garage, everybody burst into applause. You just looked slightly startled. Your hair slightly messed up from sleep and Charles's hoodie dwarfing you.

"Am I late?" You asked, horrified. "I could have sworn I only closed my eyes for five minutes."

"Your not late, mon amour," Charles assured you as he sidled up to you. "We are cheering you on for fixing my car."

"That was nothing," you waved them off. Embarrassed as your cheeks went a shade of red to envy the car you had given your night up for.

"It's not nothing," Charles told you. "It's everything. Because of you, I can compete in the grand prix."

"He's right," Vasseur told you from where he had appeared. "Now go back to the hotel and sleep."

"Yes, sir." You nodded to Vasseur. Knowing better the to argue. Especially as you could feel a yawn clawing its way up your throat.

Turning, you retreated to grab your stuff from Charles's driver's room.

"Sorry for falling asleep in your driver's room." You apologised.

"Don't worry, mon amour." Charles assured you. "I'm sure you needed the sleep." Gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear Charles smiled down at you. "Thank you so much for fixing my car," Charles said. His voice was a reverent whisper as he placed a feather-light kiss on your cheek. "Now go back to your hotel and get some sleep. Charles ordered gently.

Nodding, you bashfully smiled up at him before retreating out of the garage once again, with everybody cheering you and congratulating you as you left.

[marlynnofmany]

Unlikely Tech Problems

I reported to the cargo bay for our next delivery, and found concerned faces. Captain Sunlight waited by the door, scaly browridges angled into a dignified frown, while Mimi gestured wildly with his tentacles. I’d expected Mur to come with us instead. Something was up.

Before I could ask, the captain waved me over. “The other ship’s communications appear to be down,” she said. “Additional problems are possible as well. Keep your nostrils open for trouble.”

“Right,” I said, choosing not to comment on the Heatseeker phrasing. “Do we know if they’re okay?”

“They should be,” she replied with one clawed finger pointed at the closed bay door, which blocked the view of a busy spaceport. “The crew member who exited their ship to wave us over didn’t look distressed. And Wio isn’t picking up any alert signals or other causes for alarm.”

Mimi rumbled, “But we’re cautiously alarmed anyway.” He made quite a contrast to the captain, with his voice so much rougher and his attitude grumpier than usual today. Plus all the tentacles. I wondered what he expected the problem to be. Or maybe he just wasn’t looking forward to being mechanic-for-hire as a favor for regular clients. Though I’m sure the captain would have given him a bonus for that.

“We are simply cautious,” said Captain Sunlight. “We’ll head out as soon as—”

Something hissed behind me.

“I hearrrr of thrrrreatening circumsssstanssses?” asked Trrili, sounding pleased.

I turned to see our largest and scariest crewmate doing her favorite thing: looming. Well, second favorite thing, after jumping out and startling people. It was probably good that she enjoyed being terrifying, because with an appearance that was a mix of praying mantis, black widow spider, and unholy nightmares, she was really good at it.

Captain Sunlight was unfazed. “Potentially threatening,” she corrected. “If you will kindly observe in case of problems, I would appreciate it.”

Trrili crouched lower and flexed her pincher arms. “Yesss.”

(Unnecessary hissing is her third favorite thing to do.)

“Right. They’ll be waiting.” The captain stepped forward and opened the bay door — with the airlock engaged. She really wasn’t taking any chances. I wondered if Wio was watching from the cockpit, ready to call the local authorities if need be.

Yeah, of course she was.

The first three of us cycled through the airlock, then waited on the tarmac while Trrili followed. The spaceport was a big one, with ships in all the nearby parking spots and people hustling to and fro. (They're more properly called berths or bays or something, but whatever; they're parking spots. Everybody there could land vertically, and the areas were sorted by ship size.)  I didn’t know which ship held the package we were meant to be picking up. Hopefully it was close.

By the time Trrili stepped out, the ship directly across from us had opened its own bay door, this one without any sort of airlock precautions. A snow-white Heatseeker trotted out and waved us forward. I was glad that the local weather was slightly overcast, since between those white scales and Captain Sunlight’s yellow, I would have been doing a lot of squinting on a bright day.

“Piercing Sunlight!” exclaimed the client. “Good to smell you.”

“Hello, Toothbone,” said the captain. “Always a pleasure. Is your comm system down?”

Toothbone swished her tail. “A precautionary measure. We had a bit of machinery repaired, and it came back with suspicious programming. We’re making sure it’s not malicious before connecting with any other ships, just to be sure.”

Captain Sunlight nodded while Trrili made a quiet hiss of disappointment. “Very sensible,” the captain said. “I trust this won’t affect the package you want us to deliver?”

“No, not at all. It’s a textile piece that one of our crew made on commission for someone on their home planet, no technology involved. Right this way.”

She led us up the ramp into their cargo bay, which had a lower ceiling than ours. Trrili and I both had to duck a little. The Heatseekers and Mimi didn’t notice.

Toothbone pointed out an awkwardly-shaped box that probably held an art frame as well as the promised cloth, and Captain Sunlight tactfully brought out the payment tablet.

Angry voices echoed down the hallway. Trrili perked up and edged forward; I stepped aside to let her while Mimi squashed down beside the package. Captain Sunlight glanced up but didn’t say anything. Toothbone just looked tired.

Since neither of them told her not to, Trrili opened the door and stuck her head out. Somebody shrieked. The sounds of the argument stopped.

“Isssss therrre a prrroblem?” Trrili purred.

“No — well yes, but not — who are you?” someone asked while other voices muttered in the background.

“Courrrierrr,” Trrili said.

“Thank you for your concern,” said an officious voice. “If you don’t mind—”

“Hey, is that a human?” asked another voice, and I saw brown eyes peeking around Trrili. “They’ll back me up! Hang on a sec. ‘Scuse me.”

Trrili stepped back as a slender human with dark skin and a wild-colored shirt skipped past. He hurried over to me. I braced for whatever conversation was about to happen.

“Hi,” he said earnestly. “Please tell me you’ve heard of the thing where people program old Earth games into unlikely bits of tech.”

“Sure!” I said. “My cousin put Doom in a hoverbike’s display screen once.”

“Yes!” He pointed at me and pumped a fist in the air, then turned back to the scaly faces in the hall. “You see?”

I connected the dots. “Did your repaired piece of tech come back with a game on it?”

He whirled, wild-eyed. “Yes! One of the repair guys is a buddy of mine, and he must have done it as a joke. I’ve been trying to explain it, but nobody believes me!”

“What tech is it?” I asked.

“Part of the medbay,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Somebody sprained their tail, and the medic went to scan it for breaks, then they ended up with a screen full of demons and gunfire.”

I tried not to laugh. “Is it actually Doom in your medbay??”

He dragged his hands over his face. “It’s Doom in the medbay.”

“That’s amazing!”

By this point the other Heatseekers had made their way in to join the conversation, and to be formally introduced. Things got a bit chaotic. But I confirmed for the alien crew that yes, this was a thing humans did sometimes, and no, it was not a threat to the ship. Alarming yes, but not any form of viral attack.

Trrili was a bit disappointed, but everyone else was relieved. Captain Sunlight managed to steer the conversation back to courier business.

The other human shook his head next to me. “I can’t believe my friend did that. Well no, I can believe it; this is definitely his sort of thing. But jeez.”

“You might consider sending him another old Earth tradition in return,” I suggested with a grin. “Possibly a max-volume rickroll?”

He grinned back. “I might. I might indeed.”

~~~

Inspired by this thread. Thanks for the idea, @sleepyowlet!

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[astaroth1357]

The MC Meeting the Brothers' (+Dia & Barbs) Cults

So like. Imagine the Brother's Fanclubs + Witchy Requests. That's this.

Contents: Satanic themes, demon stuff, witchy inspirations

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer

Lucifer's cults take this shit SERIOUSLY. They're not just fooling around with the occult, they live and breathe it.

I'm talking dark robes, goats heads, bonfires, animal blood, ritual dances- You know. The works.

Definitely the sort of occultists who gatekeep other occultists. They want the world to think of THEM, the followers of the mighty Lucifer, as THE quintessential demonic cult to model all others after. He (and by that they mean they) deserves no less.

Oh yes, they are a very prideful and obnoxious bunch... Completely void of self-awareness too. Try to point out how arrogant they're being and they'll call you crazy.

Lucifer openly despises most of them and possesses a quiet distain for the rest. He doesn't think they're nearly as competent and useful as they claim to be and would rather they simply butt out of his affairs.

He doesn't visit them much nor allow them to summon him unless it is a world-ending emergency (so never). A former past leader thought he was beyond those rules and paid for his hubris with his spine...

Lucifer will do all in his power to convince MC that his cult isn't even worth visiting. They'll annoy them to death... And even if they do go, the self-absorbed members won't exactly roll out the red carpet.

Just take down any names of the most irritating ones and Lucifer will take care of it. The dungeon rats could use some company.

Mammon

Mammon's cult kind of feels like a mix between a tech startup and Gambler's Anonymous at times. Money is the goal, babes. Everybody there is some kind of slave to the grind and they hustle like the goddamn NFL.

Funny enough, it usually isn't the already rich and successful who find themselves in Mammon's orbit, but those who are close to, if not in, poverty and looking to turn things around.... in less than stellar ways.

What I'm saying is, most are either casino regulars, scam artists, or buy into crypto.

That said, unlike most of his brothers, Mammon actually has a pretty deep soft spot for his followers. He puts on the "callous demon" act when he's brought out, but generally, he never cruel to them. He may even throw in an extra bit of help for free if he sees someone is struggling.

When they first met the MC, they really went out of their way to be sure MC was safe, pampered, and satisfied. This was Mammon's favorite human, after all! He talks about them constantly...

It's pretty humorous because most of them already know what kind of food MC likes, what their sense of style is, their favorite colors, and the like from just listening to Mammon's rambles. Or because he'll send one of them to fetch him some kind of present when he's visiting.

Admittedly, they're all kinda scummy and insufferable at times. But endearing in the same way Mammon can be so hanging out with them can still be a good time. MC just have to keep an eye on their wallet.

Leviathan

Levi's cult feels like a bunch of teens who read a creepypasta once, tested it out as a joke but found out it was all real. Thankfully, instead of being horrified, they were actually psyched!

They kind of take to devil worship with a DnD-like enthusiasm. They all have code names like, "Grimshadow" or "Evergloom," each owns a black cloak that they MUST wear to all meetings, and they all have incredibly embellished and extensive backstories for their "darkside" personas. Levi is very proud of their commitment to it all.

That being said, they do take to their found family, counterculture thing with a good dash of humor. They once all attended their local aquarium in full robes and linked hands around the jellyfish tank for shits and giggles.

Levi's followers rarely summon him, but he stays in regular contact with the group through chatrooms and messengers. They love to report on the fun "campaigns" they're building on or when they pull some kind of silly stunt to scare the normies.

When MC visits them, they've long since built up this prince/ss persona for them and treat them like the defacto second-in-command. (Partially because they know Levi would flip out if they upset MC in any way).

If MC enjoys a bit of LARPing, they're the most dedicated group they'll ever find! If they're not willing to play act royalty for a few hours...? Steer clear.

Satan

Satan has a ton of cults so they come in all shapes, sizes, and flavors. MC will certainly find one for them!

... The catch is that very few of them actually have a good idea of who Satan really is. It's pretty common to mistake him for Lucifer still, to the point that some cults use their names interchangeably, and THOSE cults better not try contact him personally.

If MC manages to uncover more updated following of Satan's, they'll feel like they walked into a "National Treasure"-style bookclub. These guys are looking for the secrets of the universe, never mind anything else.

Meeting with Satan's inner circle usually feature the search, collection, curation of old esoteric tomes or lost artifacts from the distant realms. The majority of the participants are scholars, academics, and the odd cooky conspiracy theorist who just happened to be right.

Also. Cats. Soooo many cats... The cultists are VERY aware of Satan's volatile temper, so they take pains to keep as many cats present as they can whenever they summon him. Their meeting house is just full of them...

Satan's cult gives MC the real VIP treatment because NO ONE wants to the one to tell the Avatar of Wrath that they disrespected his loved one... If MC were walking barefoot, they'd be laying pillows beneath their every step. The only things treated better are the clubhouse cats.

Asmodeus

Asmo's cult is basically one big family. Very enmeshed and a lot of history, but also soooo fascinating to be around.

If MC wanted to keep track of every person in Asmo's following, they would have to make a chart that could expand the length of an entire wall and, in some cases, go back generations if not centuries.

Followers of Asmo have historically ranged everywhere from sex workers to concubines and even members of the aristocracy looking increase their social capital. Being under his cult provided protection and refuge for the most derided of society, no matter orientation or background. A good portion of his modern following are actually members who've been grandfatherd in from parents or siblings who have joined.

And, of course, Asmo maintains a very close and personal relationship with almost all of them. He's always invited to attend baby showers, weddings, graduations, birthdays, what have you and he makes it to a good deal of them, even if only for a few minutes.

Because of its sheer size and unorthodox structure, Asmo's following almost seems like a "cult" in the loosest sense. They have rituals, spells, and meetings but it all looks SO much different than the others. Get-togthers among the adults are practically just parties and maybe you summon some succubi with goat's blood and glitter glue.

Asmo's cult can be kinda catty, but generally very supportive and they LOVE having MC around. Big gossips with a lot of questions. If they love a party, then they can't go wrong!

Beelzebub

Beel's cult takes self-indulgence to a whole new level. These guys LOVE their vices and find a little demonic touch is the best way to keep the indulgence going.

Belphegor

It's amazing that for such a sweet demon, his cult is some of the scummiest people on the planet. We're talking riding yachts on your mega-yacht levels of excess. "Too much of a good thing" taken to the extreme.

The thing is, as long as you have the money to feed Beel then he's really agreeable and kind. So wealthy assholes take advantage of his generosity all the time...

That said, don't feel too bad for Beel just yet because they ARE scumbags, but Beel is in charge and he has his limits.

One old billionaire kept summoning him during his fangol matches. The guy's maids found his nightrobe ripped to shreds and bite marks in the furniture.

Another one made a passing insult about Mammon and Beel came home to give his brother the lady's jewelry... after he washed them off, of course.

He discourages MC from meeting them even harder than Lucifer, and if they insist, he'll go with them and loom over their shoulder like a round-the-clock bodyguard. He doesn't need to tell his followers to treat MC nicely... he'll make them.

Absolutely those edgy kids who dress in all black and SAY that yeah, they've totally met Belphegor. But they really haven't, and it shows.

Remember, Belphie is on the blacklist so most witches who say they've met him are fucking liars. However, that doesn't stop novice covens searching for a little respect from claiming they're in good with the guy.

Since the group doesn't really know what Belphegor is about, they most just use their little club as an excuse to grief others and claim undue superiority. They pull a lot of pranks though, so they at least have some parts right.

Belphie has a vague awareness of their existence, but couldn't be bothered to contact them or set the record straight. What's it matter to him if a bunch of humans want to make a fool of themselves? He doesn't care that much about his reputation.

If MC were actually summon Belphegor themselves in front of them, the entire group would shit their pants immediately then cry and beg for forgiveness. Again, Belphie doesn't care, but he likes toying with fools so he'd play the part of the "Angry Master" long enough to make them run for their lives.

Needless to say, if MC wants there to be no Belphie-cult, no more Belphie cult there will be.

Diavolo

Actually a very small group since it's not super widespread that the Demon King is out of commission. But those who are there are a real who's-who of the witching world.

Dia doesn't actually interact with his cult very much, despite their combined influence, because he finds them very off-putting. Most of them are just "yes men" or social climbers wanting to get in good with royal bloodline, so he doesn't put much stock in what they do or say.

If he does contact them, it's for his "Bring Harmony" plans and they do come in handy as envoys in the human realm. He keeps the interactions brief though.

Several of his number have attempted to get into contact with MC before, but Solomon usually wards them off for much the same reason Dia does. They all just want something from them, so why let them bother his sweet little apprentice?

Those who slip through the cracks get shut down immediately by an impromptu visit from the friendly neighborhood sorcerer who seems to have some of charm in place for just such occasion. It's pretty confusing for MC to watch Solomon drag some big politican out of the house by the scruff of the neck, but it's probably better that they just don't ask and move on.

Barbatos

An even smaller group than Dia's and even more secretive. You basically have to be invited in by Barb's himself so a new member gets added every half century or so...

Nobody is quite sure what spurs Barbs to select someone into his cult... Maybe they make a good first impression when summoning him or he sees that they're important for the future? Sometimes, he'll even induct complete normal humans who weren't even witches to start with so it's anybody's guess.

Due to its small size and, frankly, years of even centuries worth of distance between members there's a lot less meetings and more just doing what Barbs says.

For instance, he may instruct a member to bury a particular message on a hill to then tell a different member to go find 60 years later... Or he'll have another member set into motion a chain of events that won't actually be felt for decades to come.

The cult members don't know about MC unless Barbs NEEDS them to know about MC. He keeps a lot in the dark. If they do, he takes pains to stress that he admires MC quite a bit and to not upset them...

When Barbatos tells you not to do something, you don't fucking do it, so they are VERY kind to MC. Just in that "I feel like there's a gun to my head"- kind of way...

[mellowmadds]

Casual Study Dates | Peter Parker

(MCU) Peter Parker/Fem Stark Reader

Warnings - slightly suggestive

Summary - Avenger’s compound a usually busy place hustling with activity seems unusually quiet for the day. leaving y/n and Peter in a sticky situation (pun intended)

Word Count: 1,237

°°••....••°°

Avenger’s Compound, a place that’s usually bustling with activities and combat training sometime’s has quiet days like this where super-powered humans who have insanely intense hearing can hear a pin drop from across campus. For you though being one of the youngest on the team you hated those days because it seemed as if everybody always wanted to see what you were up to. You weren’t necessarily an avenger but you were extremely smart and helped out around the lab and worked on some Stark Industries projects with your dad every once and a while. And that’s how you met Peter Parker and during those first two years of awkward conversations and study dates you two seemed to find some comfort in all that awkwardness.

“Are you nervous about MIT sending out their decisions soon?” Peter asked while getting comfortable on your bed while staring out at the beautiful city view.

“Why would I be nervous Peter? Most of my family are MIT Alumni.” You said a bit cocky if you really think about it.

“I- know it’s just I figured maybe you’d be experiencing the same nerves I was. It was a stupid question nevermind sorry” Peter stuttered out.

“You don’t have to be sorry Peter and you definitely don’t have to worry my dad put in a good word about you. You’re one hundred percent getting into MIT” You told him confidently.

You knew Peter was an anxious person and you’d do anything to take his nerves away.

“Now are we going to keep stressing about MIT or are we going to figure out these formulas that Bruce gave us to solve?” You asked while holding up the stack of papers labeled ‘Top Secret Formulas’.

Peter nodded his head yes while lifting his body off your bed to instead sit on the edge of the bed closer to your desk where all of your work was scattered across your laptop.

“But first I need to put some music on or else I won’t be able to focus” You said before sliding the miscellaneous papers off your laptop.

“That’s the Stark in you talking, how can you focus better with music blasting in your ears?” Peter asked while laughing.

“I guess you are right, that is a classic trait of my dads. But it just helps me focus better. I don't know, I can't explain it.” You turned on your playlist before flipping to the first page of the stack of formulas Bruce assigned you to solve.

Your speaker was loud but who cares it’s not like anyone cared or was listening everyone was off doing their own things. The first few songs were upbeat and fun but the farther you got into your playlist the more guilty pleasure songs started playing, but Peter didn’t mind he was blocking out the music anyways so he could focus better on the formulas in front of him. What you didn’t know was that Steve and Nat were standing outside your room listening.

“Knee deep where? doing what?” Steve said worriedly looking over at Nat.

“It’s just a song Steve stop being so old-school” Nat smirked back at him.

“But Peter’s in there with her, what if they aren’t actually studying?” Steve asked as any worried uncle would.

“The song is talking about having relations in the bathroom during dinner time, that’s not appropriate Nat” Steve said firmly not accepting any excuse now.

Nat wasn’t interested in continuing this conversation any further and started walking toward the living quarters where there sat Bucky, Clint, Bruce and of course Tony.

“What’s got you so tense Cap? Your boyfriends right here if you have to relieve some tension” Tony laughed making fun of Steve and Bucky’s unusual bromance.

“I think you should worry more about what your daughter and Peter are doing upstairs” Steve said, crossing his arms.

“What? What are you talking about Cap? His vigilant ass better not be corrupting my innocent perfect daughter” Tony angrily stated as his face turned a shade of red nobody expected.

“They are listening to a song about having relations in the car and bathroom” Steve said pointing upstairs to your room.

“And you didn’t shut it down the moment you heard that? What kind of uncle are you?” Tony asked running up the stairs to take a listen for himself.

“Oh my gosh the lyrics are filthy but it sounds so calming, how does an artist achieve that?” Tony muttered under his breath before harshly knocking on your bedroom door and bursting in unannounced.

“What’s going on here?” Tony yelled loudly only to be met with a view of you sitting at your desk and Peter sitting on your bed leaning against the headboard with a textbook and stack of papers sitting on his lap.

“What dad? We are busy figuring out the formulas Bruce gave us. Why the hell is everyone crowding outside my room?” You asked, pointing towards Steve, Bucky, Nat, Clint and Bruce all huddling in a circle outside your bedroom door.

“Well we heard the song you guys were listening to and were a bit concerned. You guys aren’t acting on those lyrics are you? You guys better not be under my roof” Tony questioned with a look of disgust on his face.

“What the hell are you going on about dad?” You asked looking over at Peter who looked like he'd seen a ghost.

“Are you guys having sexual relations?” Tony asked in disgust as your playlist suddenly skipped to the next song which would make your case even worse.

“Head so good, she's an honor roll she’ll ride your what like a carnival?” Tony repeated the lyrics.

“I am on the honor roll though, so it’s not entirely a lie” You replied back smirking like a smartass.

“This is not a laughing matter young lady, we are talking about something serious here, answer my question right now” Tony stated with a straight face not joking around anymore.

“Yeah we are and what about it?” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Y/n not in front of everybody” Peter said shyly.

“Who cares Peter they were going to find out sooner or later anyways, might as well just tell them now” You said looking back at everyone’s shocked faces. As you looked past your father behind him stood Bucky handing Clint a ten dollar bill.

“You guys had a bet going on about us?” Peter asked, looking back and forth between them but also keeping one eye on Tony just in case he might try to kill him.

“This conversation is not over and from now on this door stays open” Tony said sternly ignoring all the giggles and snarky remarks coming from his fellow avengers. Your playlist then starts playing a different song which lightens up the mood just a little.

“This one has a dance to go along with it, watch H-O-T-T-O-G-O it’s like the YMCA'' You said while doing the dance.

“I like doing the YMCA” Steve said, smiling now entering your room.

“Of course you do because you're ancient” Peter said jokingly.

As you can expect you didn’t think you’d be ending your day teaching Steve Rogers the Hot To Go dance however you wouldn’t trade the quiet days at the compound for anything because at the end of the day you’re just one big family and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[punkpandapatrixk]

🍀Lady Luck on Your Side ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

There is no economic system that’s perfectly perfect. Whatever system you’re in, what’s wise to do is make the best out of all streams of possibilities viable within that system. Transcend above the stupidity and strike your Lucky 3 (Jupiter’s number LOL)🍄

In Astrology, the Lady Luck is represented by Mother Jupiter—the planet of expansion and good luck. The thing about luck, Love, is that you can’t plan around it. You can only prepare yourself and your resources the best you can and then gamble it all away. Gamble your fucking Life away at big endeavours that you know your Soul intends for you. Have faith in your divine abilities, bitch~🐞

If you fail, you learn!🐌

You are a Luck Magnet for as long as you believe in yourself. Be confident in that the essence of your beingness is enough for manifesting all you’re meant to see manifest in your lifetime🍀

Jupiter Sign: the psychology with which you philosophise shit

Jupiter House placement: areas of Life most blessed by the grace of Jupiter’s expansion

Planets in 9th House: indicate a need to expand beyond a simpleton mindset!!

‘The secret is not to chase the butterflies but to take care of your garden so they’ll come to you.’ – an old proverb

SONG: Baby Face by Sakamoto Maaya

MOVIE: Cruella (2021)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Patiently Revealing All Your Glorious Petals

lucky money (insights into lucky career opportunities) – Knight of Pentacles Rx

I’ve got to say your opportunities are the most unique here, and very likely quite challenging in that you must have patience. Lady Luck says that the path most suited to your lucky money involves your being a ghost. Hustling in secret, hiding your plans and spiritual truths from everybody else and treading very carefully on the way towards your goal. This could take many years! For many of you, this could be the loneliest path because nobody around you seems to understand your visions, or the intuitive nudges you know your Higher Self is directing you towards🛴

You were put in environments where most people don’t understand you (or they simply don’t share your visions) because your Higher Self intended for you to exercise navigating adversaries. This was part of your Soul’s scenario, you know. Stormy seas make the best sailors, kind of scenario. In that sense, you’ve been met with many uncomfortable situations, even dangerous and painful encounters and goodbyes to advance your evolution. Fear not, for you have not lost but gained valuable perspectives what will ensure good karma returning to you when you’re older🎆

For the majority of you reading this, your Jupiter will begin to really shine a light on your real lucky career path after you’ve graduated your first Saturn Return. Typically, by the time you’re between 29 and 33, things will get that much clearer and you’ll regain your motivation (if you’ve lost it at some point) and feel really glad you’ve made it thus far. The future accessible to you will begin to feel astonishingly clear and you will be excited but still need to work on that patience LMAO

lucky daily (ways to increase luck every day) – Page of Wands

Having said all of that, many of you reading this may feel quite frustrated at the idea that you’re only gonna get your successes at a later age. Especially if you’ve survived your first Saturn Return and you’re only beginning, you may have felt quite like a loser in comparison to these 20-somethings already achieving so much in Life… But, who’s to say all of that is gonna last? Sometimes, people gain a lot at a young age only to have all of that swept away by the time motherfucking Saturn returns to get them LOL Well, that, too, is part of their spiritual evolution, so~🙏🏻

Remember that you’re not in a competition with anybody or even Destiny itself. To increase your luck daily, Jupiter is saying: enjoy every single day you get to make progress on your true ideal career. Whatever it is that you’re doing right now, and if you aren’t yet where you envision yourself to be, you can still enjoy every single step you manage to take on a daily basis to get you closer to where you want to be. You’re learning and gaining momentum, aren’t you? All these little steps matter in the grander scheme of your Higher Self’s orchestration to bring to your doorstep all that you deserve📦

Of all the piles, I have a strong feeling your manifestation is the most guarded by the Higher Realms. You’re meant to go through hoops and learn to prepare yourself very well so that you could build a strong foundation that is sure to have longevity. The thing you’re meant to do, to have, to express, to create and build, unlike many, many others who need to learn through gain and loss of the very things that matter to them, is going to be yours forever once you establish it. The whole idea of unlocking achievements in accordance to age is pure scam. You are safe and perfectly on time🎯

lucky strike (big blessings you’re destined to obtain) – Knight of Wands Rx

Let me let you in on a secret. Mental clarity/health is absolutely paramount to your success story. Plenty of young people get crowned with massive successes without having a strong foundation of morality or empathy, and least of all, spirituality. For example… How many times have we heard tragical Hollywood stories where young celebs/influencers became the IT girls/boys very early on only to crumble and get shattered by the time they’re in their late 20s or early 30s? (Saturn freaking Return!) All because they’re so out of touch with reality🤷🏻‍♀️

Not saying they’re terrible seeds per se, but perhaps it was their environment/upbringing what didn’t allow them to bloom beautifully the way you are with your emotional and spiritual maturity. Whatever career choice you have in mind, know that when you’re finally established there, you’re going to be so based, so grounded in reality that everybody is going to have immense respect for you for the things you say and contribute to your cause📢

Your lucky break may indeed require a slow, careful planning, all behind the scenes, too. You are meant to develop in the fog and mists, away from the beady eyes of those who might seek to trample over everything you’re building. Nobody would ever guess what your next lucky chapter would look like! But you do. You do so well because you’re working on it every day, diligently and resiliently. Maybe you don’t know yet, but Lady Luck is visiting a lot sooner than logically expected hahah And when she carries you through those winds of change…🥂

DESTINY SERVING TEA🔻💙

mother Jupiter on your side (message from Jupiter) – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

merging with your Higher Self (the weight of destiny) – Priestess of Clarity

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Resiliently Growing in the Mud

lucky money (insights into lucky career opportunities) – 2 of Cups Rx

Harmony is definitely integral to your spiritual sanity. You’re not the type of person who can thrive in a dog-eat-dog industry. When people are ugly to each other at the workplace, it fucks most of your brain’s functions up. This coldass capitalistic system doesn’t suit you; and if you can’t seem to catch up, it’s not because you’re a failure, but because you’re wired towards a more high-vibrational existence. An existence where people’s interactions are generally pleasant and—in some instances—beautiful💞

There must be some significant Libra/7th House or Pisces/12th House placements in your birth chart that are pulling you towards creating harmony in your work environment. Being surrounded by ease and beauty is of paramount importance to your optimal functioning. If you’ve ever experienced some kind of a professional heartbreak from betrayal/cruelty by co-workers or bosses, that environment ain’t where you belong, and it is perfectly safe for you to eject yourself from that hellhole. There are better things more suited to your Style🌈

Lady Luck says you may be more suited to working alone until you establish yourself enough to make collaborations with others who are quite similar to you in terms of their general politeness and delightful visions for the world. Wow that’s a longass sentence. For example, a vibe I’m getting is a small business owner selling whatever beautiful and creative things you can produce on your own. Even if not selling, you could have, for example, a YT channel showcasing your real-time painting or any other interests/talents you may have and get money from rolling ads🎞

lucky daily (ways to increase luck every day) – 6 of Cups

If you’ve ever had frustrating, or even painful, experiences in the corporate world—whatever the setting may be—that whole ordeal was truly teaching you the importance of working with just a small circle of trustworthy individuals to move forward with. Integrity is crucial in your daily choices. Sharing ideas and stories with kindred spirits is the way to go in your case. That you never betray your own purity, that you don’t give in to selling your Soul to the Devil, that you never let yourself kowtow to the System…

All of these brave decisions are what’s going to be favoured by the Lady Luck. In different scenarios this endeavour may take some time, but don’t fret, because for most people, accessing the Power of Jupiter does take some maturing. It does take some experiencing, some intel-gathering, some philosophising over many, many things that are eating away at your sanity. The moment you become clear about those wrong things is the moment you regain control over your daily choices🍭

You may want to look at what your 6th House sign and placement entail for your healthy habit-building~ You’re a bit of a Faery Soul, an Elven Soul, or maybe a Mermaid Soul; you’re gentle and more sensitive than most Humans. Maintaining harmony and balance in your everyday Life is key to increasing your Luck daily. You’re spiritual and creative, and so, if you allow yourself to indulge in soulful activities as part of your money-making endeavours, Lady Luck is going to gladly visit you every day~🌬

lucky strike (big blessings you’re destined to obtain) – 5 of Wands Rx

It isn’t to say that you’re meant to only live a secluded, hermit lifestyle. As mentioned earlier, you could benefit from working alone when you’re just starting on your passion project. You’re more suited to working solo and figuring things out yourself as you build a livelihood that’s generally pleasant every day~🌌

When you’ve raised your vibrations enough and be super charming and confident because you’re making money by living authentically, you’re going to become a magnet for amazing, one-of-a-kind, kindred spirits who are just as unconventional as yourself. You’re going to be glad because your connections and relationships are going to be exciting without stupid dramas. This in itself could lead to amazing collaborations with those who share similar visions as yourself🌉

You are definitely amongst those convention breakers who will show others that operating on nothing but the spirit of competition in the professional world is dumb as fuck. People thrive when they collab with those of similar tastes and minds. When all’s said and done, you’re meant to have a Life of ease and a lot of cheer with unique individuals living high-vibrationally interesting lives, carving your own alternative existence~💠

DESTINY SERVING TEA🔻💛

mother Jupiter on your side (message from Jupiter) – Green Astronomer (Nicolaus Copernicus)

merging with your Higher Self (the weight of destiny) – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – It’s Like You’re Growing Money on Trees, My Goodness!

lucky money (insights into lucky career opportunities) – Page of Pentacles Rx

It’s clear you’ve done some heavy shadow work, maybe it’s only begun quite recently; but for some, this may have been ongoing for quite a number of years. Whatever the case may be, and however old you may be, there’s this feeling that you’re starting over. You’re just beginning to live again. This time around, you’re living on your own terms; you’re feeling, ‘This is who I should’ve always been!’ And you feel incredibly glad, for the most part😶

It’s perfectly normal to feel sad sometimes, after all, a lot of shit you’ve faced. For quite some time, you totally bought the hustle culture—the thing about it was that you were ludicrously hard on yourself. I sense a majority of you reading this are Millennials? Or perhaps older Gen Zs. Anyway, your expectations on yourself were hurting you so much. After some shadow work, you realised da problem wasn’t you; it was the System. You were scammed big time🤬

Thus you quit a whole industry and began cultivating your own Art. This is the spiritual pile for sure. I sense many of you reading this resonate with being a Lightworker, Starseed, or a Mystic even. You could be doing tarot readings yourself; running a blog channelling cosmic messages from higher beings; some could have a YT channel dedicated to New Age spirituality or esoteric occult knowledge; and some could even be a detective or in the investigative field. WHOA. If you’re not already doing these thing, Spirit Guides are saying you would be very blessed by the Lady Luck if you thrust yourself into these types of work😘

lucky daily (ways to increase luck every day) – 5 of Pentacles Rx

Whoa… do I need to give you any advice or anything? Bitch, you cracked the code! You’re practically a master manifestor at this point in your Life. I sense some of you reading this may not resonate just yet but you’ve literally transcended far above the need for money. Right now, if you allow yourself to calm down, you’ll realise you could just sit down every day and money grows on your trees~🌳

You’ve quite become an embodiment of your Higher Self, and that Oversoul of yours knows you’re unlimited. There is no more lack in your subconscious, let’s just put it that way. Now your conscious, your logical brain, just needs to adjust to this new paradigm (if not already) and you will be effortlessly attracting the means to afford all that you need to move forward. With 5 of Pentacles in reverse—namely a trauma card—Spirit Guides are saying you’re in a healing phase right now🧸

If—IF—certain days you feel tired, fatigued, drowsy for an entire day, and just unmotivated to work even on something you’re passionate about, please know this is your body still recuperating from the adrenal stress caused by long years of having to hustle or simply having a hustle mindset. You’re not doing anything wrong and you’re not failing, OK? Your intelligent body is just telling you it’s safe to slow down now. It’s perfectly good to sleep aaallll day and just feed and clean yourself for 5 consecutive days if that’s really all you can do to maintain mental and spiritual balance. That spiritual balance is what’s going to effortlessly manifest all the abundance you’re so deserving, so don’t be afraid of ‘missing’ some work days~🛌

lucky strike (big blessings you’re destined to obtain) – 4 of Cups

There is a sense of stability that you’re going to manifest pretty soon in your Life (if not already LOL). In some regards, this stability could even feel rather boring, uneventful, just because you were quite used to having a lot of chaos in your previous chapter of Life. But this stability will serve as a big ‘rehab period’ for you to truly shift your paradigm. And then, once you manage to get all your ducks in a row in your new paradigm…🦆

Pretty soon you’re gonna see everything in your Life move quite fast. If by any chance you’ve resonated with this: ‘I feel like everything has changed so much, yet nothing seems to have changed at all…’ please know this is actually yourself slowing things down so you don’t manifest another set of stressful unfolding of events! This was preordained by your Higher Self! Hahah…

The reason for this is that at this point in your spiritual evolution, you’ve become really particular about high-quality manifestations you’re willing to entertain within the construct of your own Reality. So much so that you simply won’t entertain the manifestation of good opportunities if it’s going to be stressful. NO STRESS is a big part of your magick. This concept literally goes beyond just material things; pretty soon you’ll see that you’re only manifesting high-quality experiences, environments, encounters, and even Love🦢

DESTINY SERVING TEA🔻💜

mother Jupiter on your side (message from Jupiter) – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)

merging with your Higher Self (the weight of destiny) – Priestess of Intuition

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[worldsover]

link in bio top 0.1% creator ft. Jiheon

length ✦ 7.6k

genres ✧ sex toys; lazy sex; cockwarming; camgirl!Jiheon

(sequel to [PPV] BG SEX...mp4; for @co-reborn)

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“So, how do you think it came out?” Jiheon asks. She’s in your lap as you sit on the couch.

You take a second to process the words, with Jiheon interrupting the review of the footage. All that’s in your brain is the delightful sight of her deep in pleasure while you fucked her from behind, as well as the delightful feel of her thighs squishing under your fingers right now—you love the way your touch can make her giggle.

“I think it’s a good start,” you say. “Once you get a better set up, I think it’ll be even better.”

In your mind, it’ll only be better when your cock is buried in her again, not just nested between her ass cheeks as they are now. 

Things unfortunately don’t get better as Jiheon leaves the warmth of your embrace. Turns out your judgment was flawed, however, when she ties her hair into a messy ponytail and gets on her knees between your spread legs.

She looks up and smiles. “Now for your payment, Daddy.”

You grab the phone.

This one will be on camera.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Holy shit. Fifty thousand dollars." Jiheon is scanning the financial dashboard; her channel, creamandheonni, has blown up, and it's only been three weeks, having only posted the sex scene, a quick blowjob, and a few flirtatious pictures. Your understanding of this new porn paradigm is tangential at best, through surface-level conversations with fellow actors who had this much more lucrative side hustle; you're aware regardless that Jiheon's frankly absurd growth can be attributed to her filling a niche, a rare intersection of natural prettiness and genuine enthusiasm.

"That's great news." From behind, you pull Jiheon into your arms. You were content with your life, or maybe just unwilling to diverge from the routine of mediocrity. You kiss the top of her head and bury your nose in her sweet-smelling hair, only tinged with pink as it'll soon fade back to black—more and more now, you want to entirely eschew routine. "You're going to be so successful," you say.

She's still scrolling through the dashboard, checking out her comments and likes, though she makes herself comfortable by leaning into your neck and humming. "Should I move out now?" Jiheon asks. "I mean, this place is a little cramped, and you have a nice house, right?"

Your fingers rake the ends of her hair. Deep breaths, your nose catches coconut, honey, a bit of jasmine. As Jiheon settles into your torso, her silky hair makes your neck feel fuzzy. You consider your next words carefully.

"If you want… you can move in with me while you look for a better apartment. No hurry, okay?"

There are people whose eyes you look into, deeply, yet feel nothing—for one, everybody you work with in a porn studio. However, Jiheon is not one of these people. She tilts her head back to look at you, and your heart trips on a bump on the floor and it bumps. Her fake blue lenses make her wide eyes shimmer like calm waves in a summer sea, or a cool drink on that same balmy day. 

"You'd really let me stay with you? Are you sure?"

Hold her tighter; she coos. "Yes," you say, more confident now. "And if you need a partner for any more videos..."

"I was just gonna ask that," she says with a sly grin. She turns around, straddles your lap, and puts her arms around your neck. "So you don't mind me moving in?"

"Not at all."

Jiheon kisses you, her lips soft and plump against yours. She starts to grind into your lap, your cock hardening under her ass.

"And you really, really don't mind helping me film?"

You laugh. "Whatever you need, baby."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Whatever she needs. Apparently, it's much, and you're unsure how she fit her life in that shoebox.

As if she's always lived here, Jiheon has taken up half your house. Your fridge isn't a textbook example of a single male's diet anymore, gaining a whole variety of side dishes inside and its door now plastered with notes—mostly advertisements for new restaurants to try, though occasionally something more sentimental. Your bathroom has turned into a storage closet, filled with all kinds of self-care items, nail polishes, and beauty masks. You even come home one evening to find a pink coffee machine sitting pretty on your countertop. She's managed to snatch up your master bedroom, relegating you into your guest bedroom, a quaint empty room now home to a vanity with lights. But that did not bother you, because you sleep together most days, and now you sleep a lot better, and wake up much earlier, with Jiheon wrapped around you every day.

The title of the film is Jiheon Fucks Her Landlord For Rent, and you don't need the script. Read it thirty times already. It's true that you're being exploited for money, but consider this: Whatever. This is top-shelf content you're having the pleasure of starring in, even if it's something like unpaid overtime. You come home from shoots to Jiheon sprawled naked on the bed, and your job cannot compare. With her petite ass out and her laptop open in front of her, she picks out songs to listen to while she edits clips to put up for sale. Then she would pounce on you, pushing you onto the mattress and riding you until you're both spent, and you would only hope she remembered to put a camera somewhere.

There is one fundamental problem for you, though—she is a fucking monster when it comes to fucking, and that's why, no matter how many times you fuck her, no matter how much cum you deposit inside her, no matter how tired you are, she always wants more.

Tonight is no exception. She saunters up to you while you're watching television, plops herself down right into your lap, and wiggles her ass over your crotch, a position that's become domestic.

"Hey," she murmurs, her arms around your neck, "whatcha watching?"

Not even a token effort to lean to the side so that you can keep watching. You shrug as your hands land on her back. "Not sure. Some sport. Volleyball. Tennis?"

Jiheon leans forward to nibble your ear. "Doesn't sound exciting. How about we do something more exciting?"

Your hands end up moving down to cup her ass—inevitable. "Mm, yeah? What'd you have in mind, baby girl?"

She grinds into your dick, hardening in haste. Jiheon pulls back to smirk at you, her eyes dark. "I was thinking… hmm, maybe Daddy could film me getting railed?"

"You just want enough money to buy a new toy," you say, laughing. Jiheon has accumulated quite the collection ever since setting up her OnlyFans, and you're still working out how to handle taxes and expenses with all that.

"Guilty," she chirps, pecking your lips. "But c'mon. I'll make it worth your while."

"Jiheon, today I had sex with three girls. Three." Your voice is as blank as your expression. "They were all just like you, new to porn. What more do you think I'd want?"

You're trying to tease her, and indeed, she sticks her bottom lip out. But there's genuine exhaustion there because as stated, three girls. Unstated is the hours standing around, waiting for them to get ready, ultimately ending in a sickeningly faux excitement

Jiheon stares into you. "Maybe you'd like spitroasting me? I've been talking to one of your porn dude friends about it."

You perk up. The image of Jiheon's face distorted, tears flowing down her cheeks, with two, maybe three dicks in her, is an enticing one.

Then you scratch your head. "Sorry, wait, 'porn dude friends'?"

"Yeah, your coworkers, you said you only like a few of them. And I talked to one of them and we've been coming up with a video idea."

As usual, you can never guess where she would be headed next. "Well, now you have me curious as to who."

She crosses her arms. "Mmm. Maybe I'll tell you after you fuck me."

You slouch. "Jiheon, I'm serious. I'm exhausted."

"You're shooting four scenes today," Jiheon says, sternly, and with her directorial tone, maybe she does have a career behind the camera too. "Trust me. We can do something relaxing. You know, nice and slow, maybe use this new toy I got. You don't have to pound me like rice flour into mochi. Or like some random girl who's gonna wash out of the porn industry after five scenes."

You counter, "You did in one."

Her lips tugging at a smile again, Jiheon slaps your chest. "Shut up, you know what I meant. Anyway, I'm just trying to suggest something new here. You can stay completely still inside me, and film me cumming over and over while I keep the new vibrator on me."

You close your mouth tight. The only thing your penis ever has to say about the topic: the more, the better; it says this in hardness. Jiheon giggles, knowing she's already convinced you.

"Besides, you could get some practice, lasting longer, without the pills," she says. "And then there's the whole thing about 'getting to cum inside the tightest pussy you've ever felt after years of being a porn star, honestly' but maybe you're taking that for granted now. Hmph." You'll never understand how she can look so cute while saying such immodest things, but Jiheon's pouting is undeniable. "I'm seriously excited about the vibrator though," she adds in that same breath.

However, you turn up your nose. A few spanks to Jiheon's ass, and you say, "And here I thought you only needed your Daddy to fuck you."

"Well, apparently Daddy is busy all day fucking three girls, so he's all tired by the time he gets home." She pouts, leans over, bedroom eyes, and whispers, right into your lips, "I have needs too, you know. Can't you take care of me properly?"

"Fine, fine. Let me shower first, you kinky little..." You trail off, searching for the right insult.

"Slut? Whore? Addict for Daddy's cock?" she supplies as she weighs down into your lap. "You're not going anywhere. I want your cock all sweaty and musky and used by some other girls."

"Alright, I get it," you say, peeling Jiheon off your thighs. "You're a kinky little slut whore addict for my cock. Let me at least get the cameras."

Jiheon grins, giving your cheek a kiss as you stand up. "Can't wait."

She runs back to her room to change clothes, finding a few things, a cock ring, an adorable thin black choker, and the newest addition—a blue bullet vibrator. You consider sneaking to the shower anyway, though before you make up your mind, she returns to the living room, setting up her laptop.

You've already prepared the three cameras, including a POV camera as well as the microphones, and you return seated to the couch. She checks all the lighting ("Natural but nice, not too bright," she said, giving her a leg up on most studio directors), the framing of each shot, while skimpy black underwear hugs her tight ass. How did Jiheon become such a detail-oriented person? This certainly doesn't seem like the same girl who was cum drunk in your lap after her debut scene. But you know how these amateur scenes always end—the sort of mess that makes a viewer need to watch the whole way through.

Jiheon starts the scene in earnest as she often does: one clap to mark the scene, then she shows off her outfit, this time a pink crop top and a black thong. She takes off her clothes slowly, then she cups her breasts, her nipples hardening under her touch. Jiheon finds her own delicate touch inadequate, desperate to pinch at the delicate pink buds under her top, and she moans quietly in response—moans grow louder with her other hand between her thighs, digits toying with her slit through the underwear. She's already soaked. The familiar shape of her pussy lips reacquaints itself with the light. It's where the theater would applaud. As she pulls away, licks her fingers clean, Jiheon lets out a little whine. You know it's genuine because you see her lips turn downwards for a split second, pouting at her self-induced lack of touch.

Composing herself, her big smile returns, and she gets down on her knees to crawl: destination—camera A to the side of the couch, pointing toward the center of the living room. Though you're not the target on the tripod, your view is pretty great. Jiheon's back is arched, her chest low, and her pert ass jiggles subtly with each step. Your eyes are glued to that edible little treat, and your hands are itching to grope and squeeze, but you resist. Jiheon is much more of a natural at this than you—when she reaches her destination, she gives the lens a kiss, then turns around, showing off her ass and wiggling her hips.

"Cut." She repositions the camera to face you on the couch, then she claps. Despite the clear marker, and though you know all this 4K 60FPS footage is going to make your new server room in the basement whine, you keep recording. Jiheon has a history of going off-script.

One example: she has two perfectly good feet, yet she's crawling back over to you, and before you can say anything, she's already got her lips against yours. Jiheon kisses you passionately, her tongue running along your lower lip and making you groan. It's the sort of footage you can put in a bonus reel. 

She points out the cock ring and the vibrator on the table."We can start with the POV camera. Show off putting the vibrator on me and the cock ring on you. Then camera B for the penetration, and camera A for the full body." Then she's back to kissing, sitting on your thigh, and did you always have a Pavlovian response to directorial whisper or did she instigate that is a new question.

Jiheon picks up the vibrator, turning it on as you position the camera on your shoulder. Her head is down as she fiddles with the settings, and you take the opportunity to cup her breasts. Jiheon lets out a moan, a low sudden noise, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She turns around, places her legs over yours, and pulls down her thong.

"Daddy, can you help me put this on? I'll suck you off as thanks," she says, her voice sweet as sugar.

You take the toy from her hands and press it against her wet entrance. Wetter now. She shudders and whimpers. Her thighs tense. When you turn it on, the toy buzzes against her clit and she lets out a heavy groan, what a symphonic cacophony. You tease her folds for a moment, circling the toy around before pushing it inside. The small thing disappears completely within Jiheon's cunt. You attach the blue wire coming out of her cunt to a strap around her thigh, then you play with the vibrator's settings on your phone, making Jiheon squirm.

"Oh, Daddy, fuck." Jiheon's legs clamp together, trapping your hand between her thighs, but it's only the second-best trap inside something greedy; your cock's becoming jealous of the vibrator inside her. 

Riding your palm and fingers, she rocks her hips back and forth, her back arches, and her adorable tits sway enough to get your mouth watering. She leans back against you, her hands gripping your arm.

"Fuck, you're so good at this. So good at getting me off." Jiheon turns around, her lips brushing against your ear.

You would attribute most of it to the machine doing work inside of her, but you don't want to ruin her video, so you simply kiss her neck, sucking on her soft skin. You can't ever get your lips off of each other's bodies. Her taste, a little sweat, a little heat, is not just a once-in-a-while dessert anymore—it's rice; it's water; nipping at her flesh is a staple, a daily need.

Jiheon sighs and purrs and grinds harder when your cock hardens against her ass. Your hand speeds up, trying to keep up with her hips, and you hold down a groan. You know the character you're supposed to play, played it plenty of times before. The silent catalyst, the tabula rasa, the self-insert.

It's easy to avoid stealing undue focus from the true star. Jiheon needs no help at center stage: the camera and her are lifelong acquaintances, already friends, lovers, married, divorced. With subtle expressions and not-so-subtle wails, she's an actress at heart.

In the backdrop, on the inside, the vibration toying with Jiheon's pussy stays constant. Even as the scene rapidly evolves—bodies shifting, her back arching like a violin, your hands plucking at her strings—the small toy is still consistent and patient. Its mechanical insistence is punctuated by erratic wet sounds, and you harken back to the trial and error you've gone through with microphones, trying to find a balance of quality and durability. Well, water resistance.

Jiheon wrestles some control of her arms, grabbing the hem of her pink crop top and pulling it over her head. The sight of her perky breasts has your tip leaking precum onto her already-drenched underwear. 

But there is no contesting who's closer to the brink of climax. Her panting increases in frequency, her thighs crush your hand in its soft wet prison, her movements get faster, her breathing becomes heavier, her muscles tense up, and her entire body shudders. It's like it's all happening in slow motion, each second drawn out longer and longer, and you watch intently, unable to tear your eyes away from her orgasm.

You push the toy deeper inside, and she squeals, vibrations reaching the most sensitive spot inside her. Her inner walls begin their spasming, and the increased urgency of Jiheon's grinding makes that more than apparent. Her desire spikes, sharp, hard, to her own breaking point. Between clenched teeth, her words come out stuttered, a fractured melody.

"Fuck, fuck. Please, close, cumming, please... so, fucking, good, fuck."

Jiheon's face twists as she screams out and throws her head back. Her orgasm rushes through her—the first of many to come, you're well aware. She pulls you closer, nails digging into your arm, and shakes into your chest. Her nectar gushes out, ruins her panties, cascades down, overflows, drips onto your wrist and cock and thighs, dribbles down her legs, and you can hear dripping onto the floor and only hope the camera picks up the puddle below.

Eventually, her back crashes down onto you as her eyes flutter, staring off at nothing. You, meanwhile, can only admire your handiwork, naked, her breasts heaving as she struggles to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide. She lets out tiny mewls, her tongue occasionally darting out to lick her lips.

Anyone else would be done. Jiheon is still hungry and needs more.

She takes a few deep breaths before turning around and looking at you. "I think you deserve your reward now." 

Jiheon grabs the cock ring off the table and slides off your lap. She positions herself between your legs, staring up at you with big eyes, then her tongue flicks across the tip of your dick, and you sigh. She's teasing you; are you happy, or are you frustrated, or are you shifting back and forth? Her hands cup your balls to massage them slowly. Jiheon presses her lips against your shaft, leaving wet kisses all over your cock. It's pleasure and torture, the slow pace that she's going.

A look of realization, she gestures for you to stop the vibrator.

"Wait a minute," she says, frowning, as she pushes the silicone ring on your cockhead, "you're too hard to put this on. Won't fit. Why do you have to be so big, Daddy?"

The two of you laugh. "You know, you saying that won't help."

Jiheon pouts, leaning forward. She gives your cock another kiss, her tongue slipping out and licking at your head. You groan, and she wraps her lips around you, sucking gently. Jiheon's mouth feels so warm and wet, and she's bobbing her head up and down your cock, taking more and more of you each time.

"Alright. After you cum inside me the first time and get soft, we can put it on."

The first time is an inaccurate assessment. That'll be your fourth orgasm of the day. She's going to milk you dry. You watch her take you deeper, her tongue swirling around your cock. You hear her gag as she pushes further, her lips brushing against your pelvis. She's going to milk you dry; send your complaints to her throat—it's the only place Jiheon's going to listen. Your hips buck forward, your hand grabs the back of her head, and you bury your cock completely in her mouth.

She's a mess. Tears streaming down her face, her makeup smeared, and a dazed expression, it's almost like she isn't fully present. Jiheon pulls back, coughing and spluttering, spit and precum dribbling down her chin. She's a mess; why bother cleaning at all, wiping her face, when she knows she'll just be covered again? At most, she licks her lips clean, and you're not sure it has anything to do with being clean. Her hand wrapped around your cock, Jiheon smiles while jerking you off slowly.

"God, your dick is so yummy. Even after you've fucked so many other girls today, you still taste so good. Or maybe it's because you fucked them? Mmm, whose pussy am I eating right now, Daddy?"

Her words are poison, hypnotic, said with the sincerity of a saint. She leans forward again, recapturing your tip. Jiheon sucks, her cheeks hollowing as she looks up at you, eyes watering, yet unbothered by it. Once more, she pulls away, and now the saliva running down her chin drips down onto her tits. You reach down to smear the mess across her chest, then you smear the sticky bead of semen on your slit across her lips; she accepts happily.

You brush your thumb against her cheek. "You're so good at sucking my cock, baby girl."

Jiheon preens under your praise, pressing her face against your hand, and her tongue darts out to lick your palm, her eyes never leaving yours—well, the camera, but close enough. Her tiny fingers continue their work on your cock, rubbing it against her cheeks; they squish like mochi against your tip. 

In her own world, she's playing like a pet, and your cock's her favorite toy, but soon enough, she refocuses. When Jiheon mouths "vibrator," you comply, turning it back on. The buzzing grows louder as you turn the setting up, making her squirm.

"Can't believe you want more," you grunt. Your thumb hooks into her mouth, prying her lips open. "You're so fucking spoiled."

Her tongue swirls around your thumb, her eyes closing, and she lets out a muffled moan.

"I know, mmh, I know, Daddy, thank you."

Jiheon sits back on her heels, moaning as she fingers herself and relishes in the toy's vibrations while leaving your cock between your lips. She repeatedly moans and hums out "thank you" against the tip of your cock, making messy bubbles of spit and precum. You go back to well-established techniques of holding back your orgasm, tensing up muscles, and looking away, while Jiheon has her own second climax swelling forth. However, try as you might, the sound of the vibrator pulls you back in, and you end up focusing on Jiheon's body as it quivers, her face as it contorts, her open mouth as she comes undone once more, her juices soaking her fingers.

Knees shaking, she clambers back up onto the couch, straddling your lap. You can empathize with how she's withering, her limbs jello; your arms are tired too, the POV camera still on your shoulder, and your cock is achingly hard and ready for its release. However, her boundless energy returns soon, and that right there is the problem/perk of working with Jiheon—she doesn't know when to stop.

She presses her body against yours, burying her face against the nape of your neck. "Please, Daddy, I need you inside me. I'm so wet right now," she whines, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. "Please?"

You chuckle, grabbing her hair and pulling her towards you. Jiheon moans as you slide her across your lap. You rub your dick against her thighs, against her pussy lips—from which a thin blue cord exits—and then she rolls her hips forward, eager as ever. Your tip drags against her clit a couple of times, and Jiheon whimpers, her cunt clenching at the small vibrator inside, desperate to be filled.

"Fuck, please," she says again, gasping. "Please Daddy, inside, in, in... my pussy's so, so needy, please. I promise, it'll be so, so good. You'll be so, so full inside me."

You try your best to restrain your own voice—as always, her pussy feels so warm and tight around your shaft, and her walls clench around you; however, this time, you feel the odd sensation of the vibrator against your cock, her pussy an even more snug fit for you. She lets out many whimpers as she writhes above you, though eventually, she sits still and adjusts to your size and the novel vibrations against her womb. When she opens her eyes, they shine with tears as she sniffles.

"This feels, oh, god, so good, Daddy." Jiheon's voice is barely above a whisper, her breath hot against your skin. "Mnh, just stay like this."

You and Jiheon fight the same battle, the urge not to move at all. Nestled close together, pleasure washes over you at its own accord. Try your hardest, but the reality is that one of you must succumb, and the next will follow suit. 

Every minute or so, she shifts and fidgets, or your cock twitches, its desires well known: to piston Jiheon's tight body up and down your length. Despite the soreness from your previous orgasms, every bit of self-restraint is necessary. The warmth of her cunt, the light panting into your ear, the vibrations resonating along your whole length—it exceeds the effects of any pill. All this effort to exert no effort.

Jiheon lets out an incoherent whine, probably about your throbbing cock's growing hardness, or its leaking precum. No matter how hard she tries, she shivers and squirms in your lap, her needy cunt too impatient. 

This very impatience gets her in trouble. Right now, her face twists, lips twitching to a frown while little pleasured sighs and groans escape. How sensitive and on edge she must be. This very impatience got her a career.

Jiheon closes her eyes tight, as though that'll distract her from the persistent toy or your throbbing cock inside her. Her legs wrap around your waist, her heels digging into your back, and she settles down onto your cock further. Whisper-subtle motions, they're more reflexive than a reaction. It's a miracle that Jiheon isn't bouncing on your shaft. You know your fellow star too well. She would love nothing more than to ride your cock right now, to make a mess of your lap again, to stuff and unstuff her tight cunt full of you, to milk you dry again—but she made a promise. She must wait. With her jaw unhinging, wide, only the whites of her eyes there, this seems the hardest thing she's done in her life.

This is the hardest in yours. Sweat-filled photoshoots, keeping yourself erect during a gangbang, even working through flus are nothing in comparison. The seconds tick by, both seemingly endless and insignificant, and you wait, and wait, and wait.

Jiheon's heart beats against your chest, tits pressed into you, and you keep her steady with a palm on her sweaty back. Her head drops onto your shoulder and her hair tickles your neck and her warm exhalations send shivers down your spine. It's hard to tell where your bodies separate, how much is you and how much is her. You melt into each other, one being, joined together by heat and time and pressure. With this vibrator inside, time withers away Jiheon's endurance. While you're teetering on an unstable edge, you're not surprised that she slips before you.

One small change, one little sigh, her face eases out its tension, lips parting, and before you realize it, she's moving. Lazily, sure, yet unmistakably. Jiheon moves her palms, slides up her thighs, caresses her flat midriff, caresses her pert breasts, pinches her hardened pink nipples.

You're getting dizzy, your vision blurring as Jiheon's walls begin suffocating your numb shaft.

"C-cum, s-soon, Daddy," she stammers, her words coming out in between shaky breaths, and hearing her voice soothes you, somehow; the sound of Jiheon speaking reminds you that you're not just in some dizzying endless vibrating cockwarming dream-fall-flight-story-recording— "Oh, fuh, fuck."

"Go," you murmur into her ear. "Cum. For me."

Despite the delirium, the agonizing climb to the top of the rollercoaster, Jiheon manages to look into the side camera. With the perfect image of her mouth open and her eyes rolling, you realize you're not a professional compared to this woman. Was that all an act? Regardless, you're lucky to be here, to witness her, to be a part of this. She's gorgeous, and she's coming apart at the seams, all around your cock, a mere happy bystander, or maybe instrument is more apt.

The vibe makes Jiheon spasm at first, and then she growls out a groan as her toes curl and her fingers squeeze, thighs completely clenching around you. Her pussy spasms and squirts around your cock. Her ass shifts upward, and she fucks down against your length, grinding your sensitive cock against her vibrator. You make sure the POV camera is trained on her face, blissed out as it is, her lips parting for moans.

Jiheon leaks all over you while her hips roll to and fro aimlessly. After she lets out a long hum of contentment, she dips her head into your shoulder and inhales deeply.

"Did you cum inside me?" she asks quietly.

You shake your head.

She scoffs. "You really are spent. Tsk. I might just have to fuck that out of you." She raises her hips, and immediately, her face contorts. "S-sensitive. Never mind. Oh, fuck, lower, lower it, vibrator."

"Yup," you chuckle, reaching for your phone, and Jiheon collapses into you, her body twitching.

You grab her midriff to pull her off, but she stops you. "No, no, stay. Stay, I'll keep warming your cock, Daddy."

Smiling, you kiss her temple.

"Thank you." Jiheon adjusts her position, moving her feet up onto the couch, trying to get as comfortable as possible—as comfy as can be with the tenderness of yet another climax, with your cock still inside her, with the vibrator still going at its lowest setting. You grab her ankles, spread her legs apart, and massage her thighs; happy, she hums, locks eyes.

You hold her close to you while your eyes wander over her facial features. Jiheon's lips and cheeks are flushed red, sweat drips down her neck, hair a complete mess, and there's a shimmer in her gaze. Hard not to get lost in such vivid blue pools—the lenses suit her well.

It's cinematic. It all happens in slow motion. You should've trusted the directorial vision. She leans forward, her forehead brushing against yours. You connect lips, then your tongues seek each other's mouths, while her fingers rake your back. Maybe Jiheon is finally learning to take things slow, taking her time as she kisses you gingerly, languid movements of her mouth, and soon her lips stay pressed against your throat.

She's panting against your skin, her body warm against yours. "Mm, feels good."

"Yeah?"

Jiheon nods, her tongue circling around your Adam's apple. She nibbles at your neck, making you groan.

"But, Daddy," she says as she sucks hard, bites down on your flesh, and leaves her mark on you, "I need you to breed me. I can cum around your cock again if you need that too. If my pussy with a vibrator isn't good enough."

"It's definitely good, baby. It's not just me. I'm honestly afraid I'll break you if I thrust." Your hands wander to her ass, groping her soft flesh and spreading her cheeks apart. With all these overwhelming sensations, you focus on kneading her soft skin, and she wiggles her ass, looking down at you.

You don't know what set you off. It's the sound Jiheon makes when you firmly sink your digits into her butt, a whimper, then a needy moan; it's the heat surrounding your still erect dick; it's the low rumble from the toy's vibrations, reverberating through your entire cock; it's her lips against your neck, pressing kisses into your pulse point; and it's that glacier-melting smile as Jiheon looks up, delirious and satisfied. You love it, and you love her, and you love the noise Jiheon makes when you turn up the vibrator with a swipe of a finger; you love feeling her tense up as you grab her ankles to place them on your shoulders; and you love her teeth biting down hard when your hips rut up into her cunt on reflex—years of porn experience telling you to fucking piston every woman on camera like machinery. 

She looks up at you, her eyes hooded, and then the damn smile again; how can a woman go from completely disheveled to such an angelic expression within seconds?

"Break you." You're out of breath, but doing it, breaking. Whether it's her or you, something must. You can feel it—at your wit's end.

Whatever energy stored inside Jiheon floods out as she's consumed in her second orgasm. She stops trembling and drops her legs down, yet you don't relent, totally fucking her through her high. Pound away (bring out the wooden mallets). The more Jiheon writhes around you, the more she pushes you over. Her cunt is slick and quivering, her girl cum drips down your shaft, and when she cries out for you, her whimpers quickly give way to screams. Make do with your ending.

With a hard shove and the encouragement of a whirring vibrator against your shaft, you cum how a drunk drives his vehicle: hazardously, sloppily, careening. Slumped forward against Jiheon, you thrust wildly, hips jutting as spurt after spurt spills inside. A mindless haze comes over you as you ride out this climax to the crash against the wall, and you're only vaguely aware of your arms and thighs burning, your heart beating faster and faster and faster. It's a fucking mess inside of Jiheon, and it's quickly a mess outside, warm viscous cum frothing out and bubbling at her lips, coating her thighs, dropping onto the cushions. You continue to move, a dying animal, muscles firing with no signal. Through this, Jiheon is getting rawed so rough she has tears forming, sniffling through every "please, give me everything, Daddy" and "want all your cum". Forget your previous orgasms today; Jiheon's greedy pussy has you pulsing shots of semen over and over like you never made a career of it. The vibrator continues to buzz loudly against her soft walls, your throbbing and aching cock, not giving up just because it's been submerged under a Neptune of cum.

Hazy, and your body a bundle of nerves, overstimulated, overworked, you try to push Jiheon off of you—she takes a handful of spilled seed from under her legs before they latch around your torso.

She looks at the camera to the side and licks her cupped palm. You can tell every single motion for her is agonizing, the toy still going at it—you sympathize as you realize you're still issuing weak bursts, so you take your phone to the side and turn the intensity down.

Jiheon breathes out shakily, closes her eyes momentarily, then focuses on regaining her bearings, on your warm sticky cum shooting into her deepest. When she's gotten enough brainpower back, she holds your face with both her hands, making you look up at her and kiss her pouty lips, where you taste yourself and Jiheon's sweet juices.

"I've got a few more in me," Jiheon says.

You're gasping and wheezing for air. "I guess... I guess I'll just fucking pass out and you can use my cock or whatever."

"Hold on, you forgot something." Keeping your cock inside her ass she turns around, Jiheon reaches for the cock ring on the table. Facing the camera B as she leans back against your chest, she finally addresses the camera that was behind her: "Daddy says he's done, but I know he's got so much more for me."

For once, you feel freedom.  The vibrator falling out, Jiheon slowly unsheathes your soft and spent cock from her cunt, which absolutely drips with your creampie—thick ropey cum clinging and breaking onto your crotch, her legs, the couch, and the floor—and now your flaccid member just lays against her sloppy lips.

"I know my pussy makes a great cock ring but…" She holds the cock ring up to the camera, showing it off, no doubt with a smile.

With an almost clinical detachment, Jiheon swiftly attaches the cock ring onto your slick shaft, an action even more devoid of romance and eroticism than switching one sex toy to another, to be honest. After clasping the cock ring on the base of your cock, she brings the cum-covered vibrator to her lips, licking you off your fluids that stuck to its surface. She hums and moans as she takes in every drop, sucking it clean.

She weighs into your chest, easing you to lay onto your back. Jiheon places your cock in between her thighs, nestling her slit along your shaft, then supports herself half-sitting up by putting two hands on the couch. You hiss as Jiheon rocks her hips back and forth, her pussy lips giving way and sliding against your soft and sensitive dick, her ass rubbing against your thighs. She takes a moment and spreads her legs to reach between them; you can't see, but then you feel the vibrator pressing against your balls, and you let out an embarrassing groan. Jiheon giggles as she looks down at you, amused.

"You sound so good, Daddy. Let's keep filming, alright?" Jiheon kisses your forehead.

"Mhm," you manage, swallowing thickly, throat dry. You're not sure how long your mind will last, but you'll at least keep your eyes open, trying your best not to fade out. Jiheon adjusts her position above you, squatting on the balls of her feet, knees together, her feet planted on the couch, and your cock sandwiched between her thighs. She's putting little pressure on you, yet your breath hitches.

Jiheon begins moving again: her hips sway back and forth, her pussy lips rub against your cock, and her ass bounces. As her pace gradually increases, her movements become more erratic while her gasping grows heavier. You can't do anything other than lay back and watch Jiheon riding your softness. She keeps pressing the vibrator against your balls, waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You thought it was over. That the video would end with a fade to black as you fade to black. However, by some miracle (which is a fair title to give to Jiheon), your erection returns, albeit weakly—yet she notices immediately, turns around to sit on your thighs, facing you again. She smirks, places the vibrator at the bottom of your belly, so you try your best to keep your face straight. Leaning forward and placing a hand against your chest, her nails dig into your skin. 

"Not so tired after all, hmm? You must really like my wet pussy rubbing against your cock, don't you, Daddy?"

A small part of you wants to die and join the rest of you already dead. There's no way you'll get through the night; you've never cummed this much in your life. Not even the fake semen tube dispenses this much. Jiheon is testing you and pushing you—but yet.

She positions her body against you again, her cunt pushing down against your length as it hardens slowly. And you can't help it, you find her body begging, enthralling. Thighs meet your sides. palms press against your chest. As Jiheon rubs up and down, your shaft finds itself either between her slick pussy lips or her asscheeks. She bucks when she feels the firm cock ring against her, squeals whenever the vibe brushes against her. You remember to put the vibrating toy back inside her, and Jiheon cries out.

"Oh my god! Shit!" At this point, she's dripping onto your cock, thick cream trailing down, living up to her username. "Fuck, yes, Daddy, fuck." She pants as you relax with your hands behind your head. "I fucking need you again, please. Cock, inside. Put it inside. Please, please, I don't care, how, how sore. Don't need to walk, or move, tomorrow, put cock, in, in."

She trembles above you, so desperate to stay upright. This view never gets old—it never can. As her orgasm rocks through her, Jiheon nearly loses her balance.

You know one way to keep her in place: your cock, now fully rigid, slips out from her slippery thighs, the perfect stand-in for support. Jiheon grabs your shaft, squeezing tightly, making sure you don't move as your tip presses against her cunt. Folding against your torso, you feel her pussy spasming around your cockhead. "Mmgh! Fuck!"

She slides her hips back and forth, trying to catch your length, and though her motions are stunted by jolts of ecstatic heat, she eventually finds home at the root of your shaft, ass against your crotch. You aren't moving—no need. The vibrator continues its whirring, and you can feel it going wild. But it's different now, as the constant stimulation now makes you painfully aware of your cock's rawness. Jiheon sits upright, arches her back, presses her hips down as she moans.

The position is killing you, your cock buried deep inside her, nestled safely between her slick walls—you don't feel safe. You're a prisoner. These are her walls; these are her rules; your cocks her's to do whatever she wants. Jiheon's hands ball into fists, her nails leaving small red crescents in her palms, as she tries to steady herself. Her eyes are shut tight, her teeth grit as she groans, her legs shaking as she continues to twitch, her entire body electrified. 

At some point, you're not sure when one of Jiheon's orgasms ends and the next one begins. Hell, you're not even sure if you're cumming at all, or if that's all the fluids from earlier sloshing around in her as you stir it up. Whether or not you've creampied Jiheon once or a dozen times, seed seeps out, even as you plug her pussy snug. You could pull out, any moment—no, you can't; stop lying. Your throbbing dick is trapped, trapped, trapped. A feeling of powerlessness, of vulnerability, of ultimate surrender washes over you, followed by a sense of unbridled gratification. Jiheon is overwhelming—and instead of seeking to overpower her, you want nothing more than to let her take all of you.

You're something. You're nothing. You're teetering on the edge between the two.

When Jiheon collapses, falling flat against you, you're certain you've passed out, maybe. Jiheon hums, kissing your shoulder, her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath. The vibrator will probably run out of battery. You should definitely take off this cock ring. Clean up. Clap (though roaring applause would be more fitting). Shut off the cameras before you end up filling up the server and losing your footage somehow.

You feel something, your eyes opening. At some point, Jiheon unhooked the cock ring and pulled the toy out of her pussy, and now she's just laying on top of you, hugging you tightly. She's breathing peacefully, her face buried against your neck.

You raise your arm. Resting your hand on Jiheon's head, you can feel her heartbeat, its quickened pace becoming calmer and calmer. She sighs, and you begin playing with her hair, fingers tangled in her long pink locks, and she seems to enjoy this as you hear a quiet moan escape her lips. Your other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer, and Jiheon presses herself against you.

The two of you stay like this, lying together silently. Eventually, Jiheon lifts her head, leaning forward, her face only a few inches away from yours.

"We should really shower and clean all this up," she whispers.

You shake your head. "Five more minutes."

Jiheon smiles before placing her head back on your shoulder.

You're going to need much more than five minutes. It's only fair that you procrastinate—when Jiheon can pay off your mortgage several times over, and she still hasn't looked for a new place. Might have something to do with that satisfied smile.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Also extremely inspired by Jiho's scene in @ggidolsmuts' Part 12: Stud(y)ing - Oh My Girl.

[puddingyun]

angel wings . ݁₊ ⊹ s.mg

rockstar!mingi x reader

you and mingi help each other get ready for a dinner party . ݁₊ ⊹

: 1.1k words, petnames (baby, darling, sweet thing, lil' mama), kisses, affection, fluff :

requests open ♡

Cross-legged in front of your vanity, chiffon babydoll dress spread out over your legs, you should've been away from the hustle and bustle that filled the home. But even with a record spinning on the table by your bed, you could hear anxious footsteps rushing to and fro downstairs. In anybody else's home you'd assume the footsteps belonged to maids or cooks, pacing about and making sure the house was ready for the evening's dinner party, but in this home you knew that the maids and cooks were likely at ease. The one anxious about everything was Mingi.

Mingi was rich and famous with a beautiful home to his name, yes, but at heart he was still a momma's boy, wanting to take care of everybody and everything around him just right. The room he'd set up for you in his home was proof enough of that: silk sheets, flowery wallpaper, the very best record player, a closet full of clothes he'd bought just for you, and a fresh bouquet of flowers delivered for you to sniff and adore each time you came over. He was attentive to detail even though his life was a whirlwind, and so when dinner parties were arranged in his home he was always troubling himself to make things just right for everybody and working himself up over things that nobody else noticed.

You were pressing blush against your cheeks when the footsteps outside your room changed their pace, hurrying up the stairs and right to your door. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, already knowing who was here to see you.

"Can I come in, darlin'?" Mingi's voice called through the door. 

"Yeah, baby," you called back, setting your blush down and turning a little to look at Mingi as he came in. Sure enough, he was flustered, locks of hair askew and cheeks pink. You smiled and beckoned for him to come closer.

"You look gorgeous, sweet thing," he whispered, eyes admiring your face and hairdo and finally your dress. He reached out and straightened the skirt of your dress slightly. 

"You look stressed, baby," you returned, smiling when he put his head down to let out a nervous laugh.

"Guess I've been runnin' back and forth too much, huh?" he asked. You hummed softly and reached out to stroke his cheek with your thumb.

"Sounds about right," you chuckled. "Sit honey, let me fix you up."

He took your hand as you slid off of your seat to make space for him, your dress fluttering around your knees as you stood. Mingi's head remained tilted upward to look at you as you searched for a tin of hair gel, his nervous expression slowly melting into a peaceful one in the safety of your room. 

"Here we go," you murmured as you opened up the tin you were looking for. With your fingertips beneath his chin, you gently moved his head to be in just the right position before you began to comb the gel through the hair on the sides of his head. It took a lot of care to smooth his hair down just how he liked to wear it, but you'd watched him get ready for events often enough that you managed to replicate it, your lip between your teeth as you concentrated on getting it just right. 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, trying not to speak too loudly as if it'd move his head. You hummed softly in appreciation of the compliment, and as though asking for more of your attention his hands found your thighs and slowly crept up beneath your dress until he was holding your hips. "I don't know how I got lucky enough to call you mine, baby."

You smiled, trying not to let on how your heart was skipping beats in your chest, all aflutter thanks to his words and deep voice.

"You're awful good at sweet talking, Mr. Song," you replied, carefully curling a little lock of his hair to hang against his forehead. 

"I could say the same about you, lil' mama," he murmured, giving your hips a squeeze that made your breath catch in your throat. He smiled at your reaction, fingertips dragging against your skin as he took his hands out from beneath your dress. "C'mon pretty thing, let me finish your makeup for you."

"It's okay, Min, I know you like being downstairs when things are gettin' set up,” you tried to reassure him. It was to no avail, however, as he stood from his spot and guided you to sit back down again.

"Hush, baby. Let me take care of you," he said, pressing a kiss between your brows. He reached down and arranged your skirt for you once again, which made you giggle. He really had the habit of making you feel like a princess, something you adored about being with him. He'd been quick to make it clear to both you and everybody else that you were his best girl, and he planned to treat you as such. From tiny gestures like remembering how much sugar you liked in your coffee to moments like now, when he held his breath and applied your eyeliner in neat, swooping wings even though you could've easily done it yourself, Mingi told you with each action that he planned on taking care of you for as long as you'd allow it.

With your eyes still closed, you reached out blindly to rest your palms upon his knees.

"I love you baby," you whispered, doing your very best not to let your eyelids flutter. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek and gently rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone in a silent reply. 

When your eye makeup had been completed, Mingi picked out your lipstick himself - a reddish-mauve shade he loved to see you in - and held your jaw in his warm hand as he applied it with careful swipes. His eyes remained narrowed in concentration the entire time, and only once his work was finished did he relax enough to smile. 

He leaned in and kissed you firmly and slowly, trying to put all of his feelings into just one kiss. When you parted, his lips were slightly stained with your lipstick and you burst into soft giggles at the sight of him. 

"I love you too, darlin'," he murmured back to you. You reached out to wipe his lips off with your thumb, only for the doorbell to suddenly sound throughout the house. "Shit, c'mon baby, let's get downstairs."

With that he was helping you up once again and straightening out your dress for you before striding down to greet the guests, with your lipstick still on his lips.

[kteezy997]

the director’s daughter-part four//t.c.

I’m having a bad day. My depression has been bad the last couple of weeks or so. This chapter is shorter than previous ones, but I wanted to put out something for you all to enjoy💕

Warnings: suspicious friends, slight angst, cursing, kissing, making out, beginnings of smut

The next day, y/n sat next to Timothée at breakfast. Florence had lovingly served up the hot morning meal with coffee and assorted juices. Of course, it smelled divine and everyone started to eat immediately.

Colleen announced that she thought it might be fun to have a BBQ at her home with all of the cast members and her daughter, obviously, and invite some other crew members. A little party to celebrate the kick off of the movie production.

Everybody agreed in a near unison, nodding their heads as they sipped their drinks and munched on their breakfast.

Y/n finished her plate, and sat silently as she glanced at Timmy periodically while pretending to listen to the table conversation. She thought he looked so cute, his bed head still evident, the heavy bags under his eyes from tiredness. It was such an innocent contrast to the events of the night before.

“So where were you two last night? We didn’t see either of you at all.” Zendaya asked eyeing up both y/n and Timothée.

Y/n looked at Z and Timothée swallowed hard.

He quickly cleared his throat, “Oh, I had a bad headache so I didn’t really feel like going out to see the fireworks.”

“Hmm.” Zendaya nodded, then looked at y/n, “And I suppose you went out with your friends as you had planned?”

She nodded, “Yes, I did.”

“Babe,” chuckled Tom as he touched his girlfriend’s hand, “are you their mother or something? Let them live.”

“No, I’m not mothering, I just thought it was a little funny because I’m pretty sure her car was here all night.” Z shrugged.

“Well, my friends actually picked me up.” y/n chimed, “And dropped me off early this morning.”

“Okay. That makes sense.” Zendaya seemed satisfied with the answer, but y/n couldn’t help but wonder why she was acting so suspicious.

“Wow, Zendaya’s a better mother than I am these days.” Colleen joked to lighten up the mood.

……

It was a good day, but it ran into evening and y/n was ready for everyone to leave so it would just be the housemates. She was mostly missing Timmy. With the filming schedule and having so many others in the house, they hadn’t been alone in a week. And this morning he didn’t even look at her at breakfast. She hoped he wasn’t losing interest in her.

Florence had suggested going for a dip in the hot tub to end the evening. She had brought a date that she met at the farmers market earlier that day, Shane, or Shawn, no one could remember which his name was.

Y/n went inside and up to her room to change into her bathing suit. Timmy followed her upstairs, not saying a word. She felt discouraged when he remained quiet and went to his own room. Maybe he was forgetting about her. She wanted the fling to continue, and maybe eventually turn into something more. Perhaps it was silly of her to think that could happen. She was still in college and he was a mainstream movie star pushing thirty.

She opted for a black one piece swimsuit that cut high up on her thighs. The square neckline also held her boobs up nicely. Maybe Timmy would notice.

She hurried along in an attempt to catch Timmy before he walked back downstairs to the jacuzzi. She opened the door and he was walking down the hallway, “Timmy, wait!” she called out to him.

He stopped and turned, raising a brow at her, “What do you mean? We’re getting in the hot tub.”

“I know.” she said, hustling over to him. She stopped, smiling softly as she put her hands in his hair and pulled him into a kiss.

He was surprised at first, but then kissed her back, holding her close by pressing his hand to her lower back. “Mm.” he hummed against her lips blissfully. “What was that for?” he asked with a tiny grin when she pulled away.

“Just checking.” she said, smirking back at him.

“What, just checking to see if I’m still into you? Because I am, Bunny.”

“Well, it hasn’t seemed like it this past week.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy, and I wasn’t sure if you were still in to me. I thought maybe you’d think I’m too old for you-"

“I thought that you’d think I’m too young for you. Like you could find someone your age who’s prettier and more experienced, maybe.”

“No, I’m sorry if I’ve been misleading. I definitely want you, y/n.” he smiled, then bit his lip.

She grinned like a schoolgirl, saying, “Fuck, I’m so lucky.” She pulled him into another kiss, a harder one, putting a firm hold onto the back of his head. She wove her fingers into the soft curls just for a moment. Pulling away, she quipped, “We should get out there before Flo comes to find us.”

Timothée chuckled, “Oh you know she will.”

They took each other’s hand, him leading the way downstairs, “Let’s keep it between us, just for a little while longer, yeah?” he asked, looking at her. “I mean, I’m sure everyone in the house might have their suspicions, but let’s not give in to them until we have to.”

“Sure. Let’s keep it close as long as we can.” she smiled, giving his hand a squeeze before they parted on the back patio.

“Fucking finally!” Florence exclaimed, seeing them both come down. She was in the hot tub with her date. “It’s about time you two showed up.” She gave the pair each a cheeky grin.

Some time went by, the four adults enjoyed the jacuzzi and the calm summer night, sipping their drinks and making light conversation about the film.

Things shifted, however, and Florence started kissing Shawn.

Y/n and Timothée kept to themselves, trying not to stare. But the other couple started making out more heavily and touching each other. The mood was entirely different from how it started out.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 13

Ah it’s “coordinate with the carpet” day.

John could probably say “2+2=3” and Paul would be like “Oh you're sooo right, John.”

Literally the ADHD antics (jumping over a chair because it’s there and you can and it would be funner than going around) are so relatable.

Ringo putting Zac’s picture up? I don’t know much about him as a dad. Does anyone know? I mean I know part of the reason he and Mo left india was because they missed their kids, and in late 66 when John was making HIWTW and Paul was working on TFW and George was off learning filthy eastern ways, Ringo stayed home and ‘enjoyed the baby’. Was he a really good dad?

John: I really liked how that lead singer was singing so soft and nice. Paul: like this, John? Like this? John? John, look at me, do you like this?

Literally why are you even there, Yoko. Like, genuinely, not for the bands sake or anything, but for your own sake, go find somewhere else to be! Something, something, one of the few ways to find success as a woman was to attach yourself to a man and she was hustling with the best feminist tools available okay, okay. Ugh, I just don't know if I could stomach it.

I heard John say “Rickie and the Red Streaks” and I was like, ummm, did you mean “Suzie and the Red Stripes”? But apparently it’s a real band. They were in the same Cavern show as the Beatles when they came back from Hamburg but never made it big. And Paul was purposely referencing them with Linda's pretend band because, as he said, he would have been happy to just have been them instead of the Beatles. 

“John, can you take a little bit of bass off your guitar?” The faces. Paul told him to take some bass off a minute ago, didn't he? Or he just knows how much John hates to be told that. Anyway it's the silent communication for me.

Paul: *stops his little wordless moan-singing for two seconds*. John: Everybody had a wet drea–SING, Paul! Paul: Ooohh yeah! He’s sooo happy I’m melting. Paul McCartney wants one thing in this life, and it’s for John Lennon to tell him to sing.

“He would’ve been president, you know.” John, bless your naive, lovely heart. 

Paul: shrieking. John: moves the microphone the way a mom takes the sharpie out of her toddler’s hand. 

“If you can get ‘em off Mimi’s wall.” I have a hard time with Mimi. Sometimes she’s adorable. Sometimes she’s horrible. I really can’t get a read. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe John couldn’t either. 

This moment. My little ND baby. Someone just hit your g spot, didn’t they? But to be fair, it is incredibly impressive. Billy has never heard the song before, and he just jumps in with the perfect fill? I love Billy. So talented, such a cutie, so cool, so kind. And look at him. Having such a good time.

The silent communication again here. “Are you hearing this?” “Yeah, baby, I’m hearing this.” Then, John vocalizes the decision. How many Beatles decisions were made like this? Thinking specifically of Brian's account of their decision for him to manage, but probably this happened constantly. 

Yoko reading “The Beatles Complete History”. I love that she’s like, “Everything John tells me is ‘Paul this, Paul that, wah, wah, wah’. I need to get some cold hard facts.” 

Billy’s piano actually is insanely sexy though.

John: *complains about his rock and roll finger* Paul, turning up the scouse: Come on, son, now try your hardest. John continues, soft, needy' Lookie, look at him. *holding up his finger* Paul, genuine: Ah, I know. I just love the different ways they take care of each other. 

Poor George, dissociating himself into another dimension as John’s crooning about Paul’s eating habits. Look. At. How. He’s. Looking. At. Him. You’d think Paul was in that moment creating the heavens and the earth. Nope. Just rocking back and forth like a catatonic, probably getting crumbs all in his greasy beard.

But seriously HOW is everyone in this room watching these two men, taking in to account all of their behaviors, scream "All I want is you!" at each other and not forcing them immediately into either fucking or therapy or both?!

Ringo’s holey pocket, my beloved. 

The guy with the RP accent and the suit coming up to John like the bad guy in every American children’s movie. “I’ve spoken to Mr. Klein.” Dun, dun, dun.

[agendabymooner]

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 !!! 𝐥𝐧𝟒 — 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

☼ PENG TING FROM McLAREN

chapter summary: honey-sue lewis was so much like her brother wroetoshaw but everybody didn’t know how alike they were until lando, a stranger, got her a bouquet she didn’t even know he bought.

OR why talk to lando norris in real life when you can just send an apology through airdrop?

content warning: use of explicit language, written + social media chapter, honey radiates big harry lewis energy (oblivious, wants to go home, can’t pick up social cues), petty lando (my man is just simping leave him alone), mentions sidemen diss track era

note: shoot me an ask about anything! enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

Her second morning in Monaco started when she had dressed up in her comfortable striped shirt and a pair of washed jeans and departed the hotel to head down to the coffee shop nearby. 

Monaco was a place of glitz and glamour, indeed, but Hannah-Sue, or Honey, would only move and splurge her money on a flat here because of how close everything was in the principality. She could get pissed on a bar here and still make it home by walking. 

She loved it so much. Plus, the locals here were nice! Whereas she could get mugged in the streets of London even if she did nothing but breathe. Then again, she grew up around British people— so being sworn at was just a typical day. 

Peace and serenity was what she had expected on her second day. Ever since she saw her mates’ driver friend yesterday at lunch, she hadn’t been able to look anyone in the eyes anymore. She couldn’t even look at her brother without being awkward— Lando’s eyes were always trained on her when she spoke. 

She hated that he had to be so stupidly attractive and funny. She hated that he was so friendly. She hated that his stupid good looking face was making her even more socially awkward and conscious. 

But as her second morning went on, the thoughts of him had gone away. 

She stood from her seat and excused herself, “I’ll check out the streets right now,” she told her brother Harry and their friends. “I quite like the outside.”

“Honey if you smoke I swear to god—“ Harry tried warning his sister.

“I’m not gonna smoke, you ugly donny,” Honey quipped. “I’ve got no cigarettes with me.”

Filly looked at Honey with a concerned expression, “Are you sure you wanna go out by yourself? Can I come along?” She truly appreciated Filly’s presence in this trip, because he was genuinely worried for her. And they’ve only been friends since last year, so for him to care about her like this showed Honey that being friends with people weren’t all that bad. Not when someone could treat her like Filly did.

Honey smiled genuinely and shook her head with insistence, “I’m alright, Fils. I’ll be out quickly. ‘Sides I’m not gonna get robbed here or anythin’.”

“Yeah she right, she’s not in London,” Chunkz piped up with a snort. “Just be quick, yeah, because our food should be out soon.”

Honey had soon walked out of the place and looked around the streets of Monaco, the hustling and bustling city filled with luxury and ambition as her eyes skimmed through the stores. She truly loved the beauty of the principality. 

Her attention soon turned towards her left, where she found a person around her age waving with her eyes widened.

“Hello- I- oh my god,” the girl started, “Hi- Honey-Sue, right?” Honey nodded with a puzzled smile as the girl sighed, “Okay good— I’m such a big fan of your music and I uh- you’re here for the race right? I am too! I uh- can I take a selfie with you, perhaps?” 

“Oh! Thank you and uh, sure!” Honey nodded and placed her arm around the girl’s shoulder as the fan took a photo of the two of them. 

“Thank you!” The fan exclaimed with a grin, “I would’ve had something signed but I got nothing with me right now- and by the way, congratulations on the double platinum and the platinum for Lust for Life! I’m looking forward to your newest albu—“

“Excuse me, what?” Honey looked at the fan with a confused look. 

“Oh…” The fan trailed off. “Lust for Life just became a platinum album… did you not check your Twitter?”

“No? I uh—“ Honey stammered, still shell shocked at the news, “I don’t usually— Shit I do need to check my twitter and talk to my manager— alright, lovely chatting with you! Cheers mate! You have a good day!” 

Honey dashed inside the restaurant with news to bear.

Why, of all the times she could’ve gotten this news, did she learn that she just reached her platinum record status during her trip to Monaco? When it’s, arguably, the most stressful time for her considering that she was forced to meet new people? 

yungfilly posted a story!

Honey-Sue usually wasn’t this stupid. But whenever new people showed kind gestures to her, her social skills and ability to pick up cues would deteriorate dramatically.

Sure she could’ve just stopped rambling for a brief moment, but she couldn’t help it— nice and considerate people just make her short circuit especially if she didn’t know them before. 

(Hell, even KSI would get her anything she’d like and she’d still be humbled about his kind gestures. That entire “KSI called her a sket so now she’s making him pay for it— literally” ploy was just a front for JJ’s platonic affection for her. The petty Sidemen diss track days were over yet he doted on her.)

She smiled meekly as she continued to examine the bouquet of paper flowers at hand. She twirled the bouquet around her fingers as she admired it. 

“Yeah, we found out that you’ve gotten your platinum for your second album,” Ria continued to speak, but Honey couldn’t stop speaking and stammering. 

“Thank you so much,” Honey said once more, “this is quite nice. I- uh, it wouldn’t die on me so that’s something I can keep in my place for forever…? I really absolutely love it.” 

“And uh- Lan-“ Max tried to tell Honey but the singer couldn’t help but continue.

“I didn’t really expect this— I have to put this in my suitcase—“ Honey rambled. “Though I’m not sure if I should tuck it into the suitcase because this might flatten— excuse me guys—“

“—He- Lando—“ both Ria and Max tried to speak again but the Guernsey girl was already up on her feet as she began to head for the lift with Harry following suit.

Honey was still rambling to her brother as she asked, “Can you airdrop the photos? I ought to post those in my story.” 

“...Lando bought it for you…” Max trailed off, shooting a look at Ria as they sighed in defeat. 

It wasn’t even five minutes after when they received a notification from Instagram saying: “honeysue mentioned you in a story.” 

They weren’t sure how they’d be able to deal with a sulking Lando. Especially when Honey didn’t learn that the McLaren driver was the one who bought the paper flowers before he headed off to the track for his media day duties. 

She could’ve at least read the note he’s written, right?

—

honeysue posted a story!!!

Lando was staring at her. 

And she was staring at the pasta on her plate as she refused to look at anyone. Not when the McLaren driver was staring at her with something of a curiosity in his eyes. 

Was it curiosity or disappointment? Because he probably was disappointed that she was socially awkward and didn’t know when to listen and understand.

She wanted to apologize for not crediting him for the gift. But the way he looked at her told her not to bother— he probably fucking hated her anyways. He probably thought she was a bitch for that. 

Especially after when she realized too late that it was his bouquet that she’d gotten. The message in the card was clear as a day in Monaco.

“Congratulations on your platinum! You’re amazing! Love, LN4 xx” 

She ignored the conversations around her as she continued to sip on her second cocktail of the night. Her head felt a little bit light, but she was sober enough to apologize to him. She had to apologize otherwise she’d feel too guilty and embarrassed.

After all— there’s a couple more days of the Monaco weekend. Her brother Harry’s intention was to spend some time around Lando’s peers. 

All Honey could do was apologize in hopes that the two of them would part ways. 

Meanwhile, Lando Norris stared at the screen of his Twitter as notifications came in from his recent post. It was probably stupid that he acted all petty towards Honey’s obliviousness, but he couldn’t help it. 

He really admired her. And he took her obliviousness about the flowers as a sign of rejection. 

He couldn’t even find himself to look away from her and he knew he was making her uncomfortable— or so he thought. 

And as he stared mindlessly at his screen, a faint sound escaped his phone as a notification popped up.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

Honey fidgeted on her seat, her fingers running through her screen as she mindlessly typed away on her phone.

She could’ve just talked to Lando seeing as he sat across the table. But she couldn’t— she was too socially awkward and embarrassed after that whole fiasco. 

He accepted the airdrop that she sent a minute or so ago. But he seemed to not have decided to say anything more seeing as he hadn’t approached her like he did a day ago. 

She was just about to accept humiliation and defeat until a notification came from her phone.

Yeah. Maybe there’s some room for improvement here. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 9) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter 9

“Mitsu, come on. Mitsu, don’t.” You tighten your grip on her arm and pull harder, even though she’s drunk in six-inch heels and could topple over if the wind blows the wrong way. “It’s not worth it –”

“You hear that, you piece of shit? It’s not worth it.” Mitsuko’s imitation of your de-escalation tone isn’t as good as Tenko’s, but it sounds pretty bad when she’s using it to jeer at a couple of sidekicks. “Just like you and your fucking friends decided that my best friend’s life wasn’t worth it –”

“Mitsu –”

“When you left her under an apartment building one of you knocked down for six fucking hours!”

“We weren’t even there,” one of the sidekicks shouts at her, and Mitsuko spits at him. “Ugh! You crazy bitch –”

You suck in a breath, and so does everybody else. This fight has drawn a crowd, and you see at least one phone out, one camera on. Someone’s just caught a hero on camera cursing out a grieving civilian. You see the hero blanch. He turns towards Mitsuko. “I didn’t mean –”

“No, you said what you meant. You’re all the same,” Mitsuko sneers. “So big and bad, except when it counts. Fuck you.”

Mitsuko has a flair for the dramatic, even when she’s so drunk she can’t see straight. She turns to you. “Come on. Get me out of here before I puke on my shoes.”

You hustle her off down the sidewalk, leaving the crowd and the heroes behind, cursing yourself for letting this happen. It was your job to keep an eye on Mitsuko tonight, to keep her out of trouble, and now she’s on camera starting shit with a hero. Now that you think about it, so are you. Nobody’s going to remember you, not when Mitsuko’s there, gorgeous even with supposedly waterproof mascara running down her face, but it’s not a good thing. There are probably a grand total of eight people who think it’s a good thing, and you’re on first name (or code-name) terms with all of them.

Mitsuko comes to a stop, doubles over – then straightens up. “I need to pee,” she says. “Let’s go to Kamino. I want to pee on that statue.”

“Kamino’s a long way away. You sure you want to hold it that long?”

“Right. I should find a place to pee now,” Mitsuko says. “Then by the time we get to Kamino, I’ll have to pee again.”

There’s no way you’re letting Mitsuko get filmed peeing on a statue of All Might, no matter how much of a kick your new friends would get out of it. You take a deep breath and pull out the big guns. “Is this really how you want to honor Hiro? You know watersports weren’t her thing.”

Mitsuko snorts, then grimaces. Stomach acid in the sinuses will do that. “There’s only one way to honor Hiro,” you continue, “and you know what it is.”

“What is it?”

“Bone Endeavor, film it, and use the tape to ruin his life.”

Mitsuko bursts out laughing. Then crying. You’ve been seeing that a lot lately, anywhere and everywhere – on friends, patients, strangers, and more often than not, on your own face in the mirror.

Japan is reeling from the Kamino incident. You’re not watching world news, but you’re pretty sure the world is doing the same – it’s not every day that a country’s Number One hero goes down on national television. The wreckage of Kamino Ward has already been resurfaced, some of the remaining buildings reinforced but the rest knocked down to create a nice big concrete square for the Kamino Memorial Park, complete with a big statue of All Might. The All Might statue takes up most of the space. The walls featuring the names of the victims are off to the sides. New names are still being added every day.

The windows still haven’t gotten fixed at your clinic, and in addition to a dust and street debris problem, you’re having an animal problem. You chased a bat out with a broom and wound up needing rabies shots, which left you well-equipped to deal with the raccoon that showed up a week later. You’re working a lot, for a lot of reasons. It keeps you out of your apartment during the day or night, leaving it safe for the League’s use. You need the money. And as long as you’re busy with work, with the extra classes in trauma treatment you’ve started taking, or trying to keep Mitsuko from self-destructing, you don’t have to think about what happened at all.

Kazuo’s been keeping busy, too, but your other friends don’t have that option. Mitsuru’s job was in Kamino, in a business that was destroyed, and he doesn’t have a new one yet. Ryuhei hasn’t worked in a while, courtesy of his record, and Yoshimi’s so sick from her treatments that she can’t work at all. In spite of that, Mitsuko’s still the one you’re most worried about. She was closest to Hirono. She’s always had a lot of anger – like you, except you bury it so deep that you sometimes forget it exists. She doesn’t forget. And right now she thinks she doesn’t have anything to lose.

You and Mitsuko were supposed to have a wild night on the town, but after throwing up in two trash cans and one alleyway, Mitsuko’s ready to go home. You’re ready to take her home, too, and you let her sling one arm around your shoulders as you shuffle along. “You know, I can’t work it out,” she mumbles in your ear. “Kazuo I understand, but you? It’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“How calm you are,” she says. “Like, right from the start. You love Sho and Hiro just like we do, but you’re – calm. Don’t tell me you got religion about it.”

“No,” you say. “I’ve just done this before.”

It’s not untrue. You’ve lost a friend before, but you didn’t cope well at all, and even if you had, this isn’t the same. You’re miserable about losing your friends, but mourning them visibly isn’t something you’re allowed to do. Not when you’re responsible. All you can do is try to fix it, or at least try to make sure Mitsuko makes it home in one piece, without passing out somewhere or clawing a hero’s eyes out with her acrylic nails.

As you’re helping her unlock her apartment, an idea occurs to you. “Hey, why don’t you come with me to Yoshimi’s appointment tomorrow? I have to go to work, so I can’t stay long, but it would really make her feel better if you stuck around with her at the clinic.”

Mitsuko looks lukewarm on the idea. “I don’t think she wants me there. I’m not very good at comfort.”

“How about just company?” you say, and she shrugs. It irritates you to the point where you play a card you shouldn’t. “Hiro used to.”

“Don’t guilt-trip me,” Mitsuko says. It’s quiet for a minute. “Fine. I’ll sit with her. This time. Then it’s back to you.”

“Sure,” you say. You’re pretty sure you can make it so it’s not just this time.

You say goodnight to Mitsuko, stop at a convenience store for supplies on your way home, and drag yourself into your apartment building. Before you unlock the door, you have to brace yourself. In spite of Tenko’s insistence that you aren’t left alone with the League, there have been at least a few times in the past three weeks that you’ve come home to at least one villain in your apartment.

After Tenko and the others left, after you went to Kazuo’s and stayed up all night, drunk and mourning your friends from under the weight of your guilt, the first thing you did was buy a whiteboard. You hung it on the back of your front door, and each day, you write your schedule on it, letting Kurogiri know what times you’ll be out, when it’s safe to bring villains over for a break. You can tell when they’ve been there, even if you don’t see them – things will be out of place, or food will have disappeared, or you’ll find a ton of black hair dye stains all over the shower. You don’t care that Dabi dyes his hair. You just wish he’d rinse the shower out afterwards.

Sometimes the villains leave notes for you on the whiteboard – Magne commenting on the tragic state of your makeup collection, Spinner apologizing for using the last dryer sheet, Dabi bitching about the neighbors and the noisy sex they’re constantly having in the bedroom that shares a wall with your living room. Sometimes they leave requests for you to buy stuff for them, along with at least some money to pay for it. The only person whose things you buy without asking for payment is Toga.

Everybody else takes things, or asks for them. The only person who leaves things for you is Tenko. As far as you can tell, he shows up exclusively during times when you’re supposed to be home, but for some reason or another you’re always out and about. The first time you know for sure he was here, you came back late and found a flower sticking out of an empty energy drink can on your kitchen counter. The next time it was a piece of your jewelry, with a note: Compress stole this and had Twice leave a copy, but Twice told on him. You need a jewelry box that locks. The third time it was just a note, and just three words, in Tenko’s never-got-past-kindergarten handwriting. I miss you.

You miss him, too. While you’re braced for villains every time you open the door, you’re always hoping he’ll be there.

There’s a villain in your apartment tonight, but it’s not Tenko – it’s Magne, who’s in the bathroom availing herself of your blow-dryer. She’s doing laundry, too, or she’s done it. You catch the unmistakable scent of a dryer sheet that’s gotten sucked into the lint-trap on the air. The smart thing to do would be to leave, but you’re tired, and it’s your apartment to begin with. You set down the items you bought at the League’s request on the kitchen table and sit down in a chair, your chin propped in your hand. You think about scrolling your phone to pass the time, but you don’t need to. Lately all you have to do is stare off into space, and your mind supplies enough uneasy questions to keep you busy for hours.

You come back to awareness when Magne snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Rise and shine, sweetheart. Is this for me?”

She’s holding up the three-pack of deodorant. “Yeah. It’s not the brand you asked for – I didn’t have enough money – but I smelled all the discount ones and picked the one that was closest.”

Magne uncaps one and sniffs it. “Close enough,” she decides. “What about the rest of this? Who wanted thermal socks?”

“Spinner. His note said you all are staying in a warehouse and it gets cold,” you say, and Magne nods. You glance over the rest of the things you bought. Some of them need an explanation. “The numbing gel is for Toga. She bit her cheek and there’s a sore in her mouth. Tell her not to eat anything too acidic until it heals. And these are – she knows what these are for.”

Magne nods sagely. “Oh, and these are for Compress,” you add, tapping a stack of cheap paperbacks. “He said he was bored. These should help.”

“You spoil us,” Magne remarks. She smells like your shampoo. And your body wash. “The boss is as bad as it gets. Who would have guessed that his girlfriend would be such a little saint?”

“I’m not a saint,” you say. She’s not the first member of the League to say that, but your list of sins is long enough already, and it’ll only keep getting longer. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I do wonder what the attraction is,” Magne continues, like you didn’t speak at all. “Guys like him – when they see something pretty and pure, all they want to do is ruin it. And then they don’t want it anymore. I wouldn’t get too dirty if I were you.”

“Thanks for the warning.” You see shadows flickering in your peripheral vision. Kurogiri’s here. “Take this stuff with you, okay? And tell everyone I say hi.”

“No problem.” Magne gathers up the results of the supply run. “Any other messages you want me to send? To the boss, maybe?”

“Nothing I’m telling you,” you say, and she laughs. A moment later she vanishes through the warp gate, and you’re alone. It’s past midnight. There’s really nothing for you to do except go to sleep. Or try to.

You’ve been having a hard time sleeping since Kamino. In some ways, it reminds you of how things were after you stumbled into the ruins of Tenko’s house. The images that won’t leave your head. The questions that chase each other through the darkness – did it hurt, did they know, were they scared, what happened next? There was guilt when it was Tenko’s family dead, the stupid thought that useless, quirkless, five-year-old you should have stopped it somehow – but it’s nothing like the guilt you feel now. Kamino’s death toll stands at nine hundred and eight. Magne said you were a saint, but you aren’t. No saint, no good person, lets nine hundred people, some of them her friends, die.

You’re on hour three of trying to sleep when the shadows in the far corner of your room begin to flicker. It’s another warp gate, and you watch, your heart in your throat, as someone emerges from within it. “Tenko?”

Tenko doesn’t look as surprised to see you awake as you thought he’d be. “I can’t sleep either,” he says. His face is unobscured by the hand. He gestures awkwardly at your side of the bed. “Can I –”

“Yeah,” you say at once, trying not to act like this is the best thing that’s happened to you all week. “For sure.”

Tenko’s wearing gloves already. He kicks off his shoes and strips off his shirt, then climbs into bed on the far side. You’re expecting him to stay there, but instead he reaches across the bed to pull you closer, and once he’s got you, the contented sigh that exits his mouth sets every inch of your face on fire. “That’s better.”

You manage to wiggle your arms free, folding one against your chest and wrapping the other around him. His skin is dry and warm beneath your hand, against your cheek. “Hi, Ten.”

“Hey.” Tenko hugs you closer. “This is your fault. I can’t go back to sleeping standing up after that.”

“That’s because humans aren’t supposed to sleep standing up. I have no idea how you did it for – however long you were doing it.”

“Too long, I guess.” Tenko yawns. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“The people I worked on after Kamino. I keep seeing them.” You keep seeing your friends, too, although there you’re restricted to whatever your imagination can conjure. “Other stuff, too.”

“Like what?”

Like what Tenko’s house looked like the morning after, when you ran into the wreckage. What blood and tissue felt like under your bare feet. You still don’t know if Tenko knows what happened to his family, how much he knows, how he got from his family’s house into the clutches of All For One. “Things,” you say. When you’re able to raise the arm that’s wrapped around Tenko’s shoulders, your fingers encounter the ends of his hair, and you start fiddling with them, to the tune of another contented sigh. “It’s late. Try to sleep. I will, too.”

Tenko relaxes against you, asleep within moments. It takes you another hour at least.

You expect him to be gone by the time you wake up in the morning, but instead he’s still there, shirtless, with a terrible case of bedhead that you think is way too cute. He doesn’t want you to get out of bed at all, but once you do, he trails you to the kitchen, where you start making tea and setting out something for breakfast. “It’s too early,” he complains. “Where do you have to go?”

“I’m taking Mitsuko to keep Yoshimi company during her treatment, and then I’m going to work.” You think through your day and grimace. “And after that I have class.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“It’s my day off.”

“Good,” Tenko says. “Twice is bringing a potential ally. I want you there to meet them.”

Your stomach twists, and your appetite, already fickle on its best day, goes up in smoke. “Who are they?”

“Some small-time yakuza. They want prestige and we need money.” Tenko shrugs. “I’ll come back tonight and we’ll go together in the morning.”

“Okay.” Something about this conversation strikes you as funny, but you’re not sure what it is. It takes a second for it to click, and once it does, you’re laughing.

“What?” Tenko asks suspiciously. “What’s funny?”

“We’re eating breakfast and talking about our schedules,” you say, still giggling. “We sound so normal.”

You think Tenko will laugh, too. He’ll say something snarky, something derisive, about the whole concept of normalcy and moving in with somebody and having any kind of life within the boundaries of a corrupt society. Instead his expression takes on a strange cast. “Do you think we would have been?”

You almost spill the electric teakettle out of shock. “What?”

“If nothing had happened. Do you think we’d have ended up like this?” Tenko gestures around the room, then between the two of you. “Like – us.”

If the two of you had gotten to grow up together, what would you have been? You’ve asked yourself that more than a few times. “If nothing had happened,” you repeat. If Tenko’s family hadn’t died, if he hadn’t wound up with a quirk – or even if he had, and you’d lived across the street from each other in middle school, high school. “I think so.”

“Yeah,” Tenko says after a moment. “I think so, too.”

He doesn’t say how he feels about it, and neither do you, but there’s a distant look in his eyes, like his mind’s gone somewhere else, somewhere far from here. It doesn’t fade until you set a cup of green tea down in front of him. “So,” he says, looking up at you, “how much do you know about the yakuza?”

“Not very much,” you admit. “What do I need to know?”

Tenko gives you a brief overview in between bites of food, then starts in on the details. “The group Twice made contact with is called the Shie Hassaikai. Their leader goes by Overhaul, and he’s young – not our age, a little older. Twice says he seems genuine, but I don’t want us caught off-guard.”

“Which is why you want me there,” you surmise. “If things get heated, turn the temperature down.”

Tenko nods. “It shouldn’t. He’s coming alone.”

“Right.” You force down a bite of your breakfast, then another. “And I should bring the disguise.”

“Yeah.” Black mist begins to ripple through the air near the door, and Tenko swears. “Go away, Kurogiri. I’m not done.”

“It is Dabi’s turn. And according to the schedule, she will be leaving soon.” If Kurogiri could tap his foot right now, he probably would. “With haste, Shigaraki Tomura.”

Tomura swears again, then heads back to your room for his shirt and shoes. “I’ll be back tonight,” he says as he pulls them on.

“Me, too.” You wince as Kurogiri loudly clears his throat, then hurry forward to kiss Tomura goodbye. He’s frustrated. You can tell by the tension in his mouth, the way it takes too long to soften against yours. “Hey. I’ll see you soon, all right?”

Tomura nods once. Then he disappears through the warp gate. As he vanishes, you see him removing his gloves.

You’re alone in your apartment again, and the surge of emptiness you feel threatens to knock you off your feet. You’ll see Tenko tonight, which is good, but tomorrow, you’ll be with Tomura – Tomura and the League of Villains, in disguise like you’re one of them. To the head of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ll be indistinguishable from the others.

And speaking of the Hassaikai – you weren’t lying when you told Tomura you know next to nothing about the yakuza, but you know someone who does. It’s a good thing you’re seeing Mitsuko today.

“The Hassaikai?” Mitsuko repeats, when you ask her while the two of you are waiting for Yoshimi to finish her vitals check. “Where’d you hear about them?”

“A patient.” You aren’t technically lying. Tenko was your patient. At one point. “It wasn’t a name I’d heard before, so I thought I’d ask. In case there was a chance you knew anything.”

Mitsuko’s settled down a bit now, but in middle school and high school, she was in a lot of trouble – skipping school, getting drunk and using who knows what else, hooking up with older guys, sometimes for money or gifts or just to make whatever was going on in her head go away. Some of those guys were yakuza. A lot of them were. And Mitsuko always said they liked to pillow-talk.

She thinks about it for a moment, frowning. “They’re a small group,” she starts. “They’ve got a cross-country network, but there aren’t very many of them. The old head of the family was popular, but the new one isn’t.”

Huh. “Do you know why?”

“The family thing – it’s not a joke to them,” Mitsuko says. “That’s how the former head treated it. Not the new one. One of the guys I used to see – he was from another group, but I remember he’d talked to somebody who’d left the Hassaikai when they were both in jail. That guy said the guys in his gang were just employees now. And they were expendable.”

“So the new guy’s a shitty boss.”

“Try worse. He called him a monster. Said he was empty inside.” Mitsuko looks troubled for a split second. Then she shakes her head. “They all are, though, aren’t they? Yakuza, villains – well, maybe not that Shigaraki guy. He looks like he’s so full of crazy it’s a miracle he doesn’t explode.”

You keep your mouth shut with an effort. What would you say, anyway? Nothing convincing, not without giving away more information than anyone outside the League should know. Mitsuko gives you a curious look. “Did your patient get mixed up with them somehow?”

“I guess so.”

“Hopefully they get out fast. Those guys are bad news.” Mitsuko grimaces. “I’d know.”

She looks like she wants to say more, but then Yoshimi comes out of the check-in room, and the two of you had a talk about not upsetting Yoshimi more than necessary. The two of you turn to her. “I don’t know shit about this,” Mitsuko tells Yoshimi, sounding so much like her usual self that you’d never guess she was wasted and hero-baiting last night, “but you’re with me today. Anybody who gives you shit, they have to answer to me. And I’m not nearly as nice as her.”

She points at you, and you roll your eyes. The only reason you were nice to the one nurse who was even sort of rude to Yoshimi is because you didn’t want her doing something worse when your back was turned. Yoshimi smiles gratefully at Mitsuko. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she says. “We need to catch up. Some of the nurses here are cute.”

You tell them both goodbye and sneak out while they’re talking about the cute nurses. Mitsuko could do a hell of a lot worse than a cute nurse. Maybe she needs that right now. As weird as she gets when she’s in a relationship, almost anything would be an improvement on the self-destruct sequence she’s cycling through. Not that you’re any better. If Kazuo wasn’t too busy pulling together the official incident report on Kamino to take a look at what you’re doing, he’d probably say you were doing the same thing.

You don’t look it. You hold it together at work, checking in on your younger colleagues, supporting the older ones, keeping an eye on the mood with them and the patients both. It’s not a good mood. The rest of the country is ready to venerate All Might and cheer for his victory, but Yokohama was hit too hard. Too many people lost loved one, and too many of those people live in the other Japan with you. Nobody’s gone so far as to sympathize with the League of Villains, yet, but plenty of them are angry with the heroes. And plenty of them are saying it out loud.

The organization that runs your clinic is worried about the staff. Absentee rates are high, and people come to work in bad moods and leave in worse ones. Your supervisor is offering everybody extra time off so long as you take it in shifts, and each and every one of you who was on shift during Kamino is scheduled to meet with a counselor over your lunch hour once a week. You don’t want to do it. You don’t have a lot, or any, good memories of doing therapy as a kid. And this time, there’s something you’re actually guilty of.

But it’s a requirement, and you don’t want to make waves, so you slouch into the mailroom for your counseling session as ordered. Your counselor is rich – you can tell by her clothes and her jewelry – and a whole set of unkind associations spring into your head when you look at her. You try to push them away. If your contempt is oozing from between your teeth, there’s no way you’ll get through this without raising a red flag or ten.

The counselor greets you, introduces herself as Yaoyorozu Shizuka, and something clicks in your head. “Your daughter’s at UA.”

“Yes, my dear Momo! We’re very proud,” Mrs. Yaoyorozu says, even though you didn’t’ congratulate her. “She’s been through quite an ordeal – just like you and your coworkers have been. Why don’t you start by telling me where you were on that night?”

“At first I worked triage with the evacuees,” you say. “When the casualties arrived, I went to assist the doctors and nurse-practitioners.”

“And how long did you do that for?”

“Until someone kicked me out.”

Mrs. Yaoyorozu makes a note in her notebook. Her leather-bound, monogrammed notebook. “How do you feel about the work you and your coworkers did that night?”

If you try to lie, she won’t believe you, and she’ll push the point. You need her not to push. “I feel like we failed.”

“Why do you feel like that?”

“Because that’s what we did,” you say. “Five people died in the exam rooms back there. Two more died in the hospital later. We failed our patients, just like everyone else did.”

“Just like everyone else did,” Mrs. Yaoyorozu repeats. She looks puzzled, or she’s faking puzzlement. You really don’t care which. “What do you mean?”

Of course she’d ask that question. You can’t stop the derisive sound that escapes your mouth. “Let me see. This clinic failed by not being ready to handle a mass casualty event, by not having the necessary equipment to treat major trauma or the staff who know how to do it. The site commander failed by sending those patients to us knowing we couldn’t help them. The heroes on-scene failed by prioritizing helping All Might instead of clearing the route to Yokohama General, so the people they were supposed to be rescuing when they decided it was more important to help All Might could have a chance to survive.”

Mrs. Yaoyorozu is staring at you. Your face is hot and your eyes are prickling, and you sink your nails into the palm of your hand, fighting for control. “We weren’t the only ones to fail those people. We were just the last ones. All those people –”

You cut yourself off. Mrs. Yaoyorozu scrambles to recover. “It was far from an ideal situation,” she says. “It was never going to be possible to save everyone –”

“I thought it was,” you interrupt. “Isn’t that what heroes say they’ll do?”

You need to be careful. You sound like Tomura. But Mrs. Yaoyorozu is shaking her head, smiling indulgently, ready to explain how you just don’t understand that sometimes hard choices have to be made, and you lose patience. “Look, what are you even doing here? Is it just a hobby of yours to come here and minister to the poor unfortunates who weren’t born quirked or pretty or rich? This isn’t your city and we aren’t your people. We don’t need saving. We don’t want your help.”

“Don’t speak for your colleagues,” Mrs. Yaoyorozu says mildly. “You don’t need saving. You don’t want my help. Why not?”

You look blankly at her. “You’ve been through something traumatic,” she continues. “The whole city has, and those of you who responded directly to the tragedy haven’t had time to process what you experienced. That’s what this space is supposed to be for. If it would be best for you to process by expressing your anger towards me, that’s all right.”

“So you’re going to martyr yourself.” You don’t understand where the disdain in your voice is coming from. “Sit here for an hour, then go home and tell your maids and your husband and your butler about how the nurse at the poor-people clinic was so mean to you when all you wanted to do was help.”

She’s staring at you now like you’ve slapped her, when you haven’t raised your voice or sworn or even moved an inch in your chair. You’re using your de-escalation voice, but the context is all wrong, and even as you struggle to rein in your temper, you can’t stop yourself from turning her words back on her. “If that’s what would best help you process your savior complex, that’s fine with me.”

Mrs. Yaoyorozu holds your gaze for another few seconds. Then she ducks her head, writing frantically in her notebook. “Are you crying?” you ask her. The false concern in your own voice makes your skin crawl.

Her eyes are clear when she looks up. “Blaming oneself or others for the traumatic events or for what happened afterwards,” she says. “Check. Persistent state of fear, horror, anger, guilt, or shame – check. Persistent negative cognitions, such as “I am bad”, “no one can be trusted” – check. Do you know what I’ve just listed.”

“Criterion D of the PTSD diagnosis.” Kazuo tried this trick on you already, and you were a lot more likely to listen to him. “What’s your point?”

“I can see by the dark circles under your eyes that your sleep’s disturbed,” she says. “Whether that’s by nightmares or by ruminating on what’s occurred, you’ve met Criterion B. By verbally sparring with me you’re avoiding engaging with your own feelings about what happened – Criterion C. Disturbed sleep partially covers Criterion E, and I imagine if I asked you whether you startle easily, find it difficult to concentrate, or feel unsafe in most settings, I’d get at least one yes. But I don’t need a yes to diagnose you – the first symptom under Criterion E is irritable behavior and angry outbursts. What would you call this?”

She gestures at the space between you, and you sink your nails into your palm again. “I’ve spoken to your coworkers about you. They describe you as kind, supportive, calm – the person who smooths over conflicts, not starts them. This conversation is a symptom, a sign of what you’ve been through. It’s not who you are.”

But it is. It is who you are now – a person who takes a skill you’ve used to help people and twists it into a weapon, a person who backs someone else into a corner and goes for their throat, and the worst part is, you can’t pin this on your association with the League of Villains. Tomura’s not standing here feeding you lines. This was all you. What’s happening to you?

Trauma, Mrs. Yaoyorozu would say, if you asked what she thought. You know the real answer: Guilt.

It’s quiet for a little while. When you speak up again, your voice doesn’t sound like your own. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“I understand,” Mrs. Yaoyorozu says. You spend the rest of your lunch hour in silence, staring at the wall.

[valleydean]

Sweet Science [a Heavyweight timestamp]

Part of 12 Days of Smutmas Read on AO3 | Read Heavyweight For River

Part One: Sleigh/Slay

These days, most of the fans stood outside the arena, straining their ears in an attempt to hear the commentator’s booming voice from within over the honking car horns on the street. Somehow, they would find out the results of the bout and swarm beneath the marquee for the victor’s autograph—for a chance to relive even a fraction of the glitz and glamor that had slipped from New York’s grasp and shattered on the floor like a delicate pearl necklace.

In hindsight, the roar of the 1920s was always bound to be silenced. The ‘30s were more of a whimper.

Supper clubs shuttered their doors. Speakeasies were a memory of the past since the repeal of Volstead. Central Park was a city within a city, made of tents and campfires, as more people failed to pay their rent. Most couldn’t afford to feed their children. It went without saying that they no longer had the money to spend on frivolous things like tickets to boxing bouts.

Castiel had certainly felt the difference in his own wallet. Even as a four-year heavyweight world champion, the money was dwindling. The cash prizes were mere fractions of what they had once been. All over the country, fighters had to hang up their gloves and find day work in the factories and mills, vying for spare cash along with the rest of the masses huddled at the tall fences, hands covered in soot and oil.

Dean had even started picking up shifts at the car garage beneath Winchester’s Gym. Castiel had found himself alongside Jack in the shipyards of Brooklyn more than once, hauling imported goods from the barges to trucks. There, no one bat an eye at him. He was treated the same as everyone else who had been fortunate enough to find a wage for the day.

It was safe to say the glory days of boxing were over.

But, walking through the crowd of fans under the marquee beside Dean that night, it was easy to pretend they were still in the halcyon heyday of the sport. Dean had won his bout by knockout in the ninth round. There hadn’t even been the need for an eight count. The commentator had cheered through the speakers, “Pretty Boy Winchester slays the competition and wins the night!”

The crowd pressed in, practically throwing themselves over the barriers, waving pens and pieces of paper. All of them were wrapped up in patched coats and mended, dulled clothes that were at least five years old.

“Mr. Winchester! Mr. Winchester!” they shouted, trying to get his attention. Flashes from handheld cameras washed out the bandages and red cuts on Dean’s face in bursts. Stars were in Castiel’s eyes just from looking at him.

“Mr. Novak! Over here!”

Castiel scribbled his name on whatever was shoved into his face as quickly as he could. Distantly, he wondered how many of these autographs would be sold to make ends meat. Usually, he’d be happy to help feed a family for a day or two with nothing but his signature, but not tonight.

Half of his attention was constantly on the car waiting for them in front of the sidewalk. He needed to get home to pack. It was late, and he and Dean had planned to get up early to drive upstate.

In lieu of Christmas gifts that year, he and Dean had rented a room at a mountain house an hour outside of Manhattan. They would be there through the New Year. It would do them well, Castiel thought, to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city for a while. Besides, now that Sam and his wife, Eileen, had moved back in, in conjunction with working so much, it had been some time since Castiel had Dean all to himself. He was looking forward to it.

More than that, he was impatient for it. Logically, he knew rushing Dean wouldn’t bring the morning any faster, but it was worth a shot.

He shot Dean a look, silently telling him it was time to go. Dean seemed to get the message. He took a step back from the barrier and the hands reaching for him and shouted, “Merry Christmas, everybody!”

The crowd delighted in that, even though it was the day after Christmas.

Castiel waved toward them in general before beelining to the rumbling car. Exhaust coughed out of it into the late December air. Dirty snowbanks melted to slush on the sidewalks. He slipped into the backseat and shimmied over to the far door. Dean got in after him. The driver closed the door after him and started walking around the car. While he was out of sight, Dean grabbed Castiel by the tie and yanked him in for a hard kiss. Castiel melted into it.

He lingered close to Dean’s lips while he said, “Congratulations.”

The driver’s door clicked open, and Dean pulled away. It was a shame. Dean was so warm. The chill of the night hadn’t left Castiel’s bones yet. He rubbed his hands together. Out of sight from the front seat, Dean clasped his hand atop Castiel’s thigh and dragged it up and down.

The car started moving.

“Extra cash is gonna come in handy for New Year’s, huh?” Dean said, patting his breast pocket where the envelope of his earnings was stored. After his team was paid, he was left with a little left than $100. “I mean, gonna have to set some aside so Sammy and Eileen can buy groceries for the week, but—” He shrugged, like it was of little consequence.

Dean was no stranger to living with limited funds. He’d done it for most of his life. But Castiel had thought those days had been over for him. Dean deserved to not have to worry about such things.

“We can have a nice dinner at the inn’s restaurant. My treat,” Dean finished with a grin.

Castiel tried to smile at that, despite the guilt mixing inside of him at the reminder of their limited funds.

There was something Castiel had wanted to tell Dean during their trip, but he didn’t know how Dean would take it. After all, it wasn’t exactly the ideal time to retire.

But it wasn’t just the sport of boxing that had crested its prime. Castiel had, too. He was thirty-three years old, and every punch, every blow, every injury was taking a toll on his body more than it had before. His recovery time seemed to take longer after every bout, and many of the aches remained inside his body, becoming a part of his muscles and bones. He was getting slower, more tired. He’d even fractured his jaw again last year, and the bone still hurt when it was cold out.

He was getting old. At least, too old to be a professional athlete. It had taken a long time for him to let go of his pride and admit that to himself. After that, it was easy to make the decision.

He’d already told Michael and the rest of the Garrison team: next year would be his last.

It was time for a new champion to take his place.

He’d been putting off breaking the news to Dean. But he was running out of time. Balthazar and Gabriel were set to make the announcement public in the first week of the year. Castiel was tempted to let Dean find out in the papers, but that would only make Dean angrier. It was probably a bad idea.

“Well, then I’ll buy the most expensive thing on the menu,” Castiel attempted to joke.

Dean scoffed out a laugh. He squeezed Castiel’s leg and let his hand rest there, high up. His thumb stroked the inside of Castiel’s thigh.

The motion made all the dread of telling Dean about retiring drain away, at least for the moment. Castiel only focused on the heat of Dean’s touch. He met Dean’s eyes, seeing the suggestive curve of Dean’s lips and the way his eyes darkened.

Castiel became even more impatient to get Dean alone for days.

///

Bear Mountain House was a stone and wood structure in New York’s section of the Appalachian Trail. The spacious grounds were home to scenic overlooks, hiking trails in the warmer months, an ice-skating rink, and hunting and fishing cabins.

As Dean’s Chevrolet wound its way up the mountain, Castiel watched men coming in and out of the camps of hired workers. They tended to the grounds and roads, blasted rocks from the mountain to load into trucks to take the overlook tower they were constructing at the summit. Most of them were no doubt from the city, sending money home to their families when they could.

In the picnic area, the laborers huddled over the bowls of soup and bread that were being ladled out from a giant pot for lunch. There was a line of more hungry men waiting for their turn. The fluffy snow blanketing the mountain range was jarringly picturesque around them.

The view was much more fitting when they reached the mountain house. The inside of the lobby was both rustic and opulent with its high ceilings and grand fireplaces. Carolers in overcoats serenading the guests the lounge area with an angelic rendition of Silent Night.

Their room, when they reached it, was expansive, with furniture made of light wood and tartan blankets on the bed. The walls were paneled, and paintings depicting nature hung from them. Across the room, velvet curtains were drawn open over the large window. Castiel put his bag on the bed closest to the door and wandered over to peer out at the vista.

The sky was clear blue over the barren, snow-covered trees. Without the obstruction of their leaves, Castiel could see a glimpse of the gray Hudson River. Mountains rose up in the blue distance. It felt like they were lifetimes away from the city.

In fact, so high up, he felt as if he was floating far above the entire world. On top of it.

It may very well be the final time he ever felt that way.

Below, people in winter gear waded through the snow. His eyes landed on specks of tourists sledding down an incline. Others were ice skating in the rink. But what drew his attention the most was the red sleigh gliding over the snow, its bright color sticking out like a neon light. Horses pulled it, giving the visitors inside a ride. Castiel could hear the jingle of its bells muffled by the window.

Behind him, Castiel heard Dean set his own bag on the bed and pace closer. Two warm arms wrapped around Castiel’s middle. Dean pressed his chest to Castiel’s back and pecked a kiss on the back of his neck. Then, he hooked his chin over Castiel’s shoulder to look out the window.

“Not bad,” he remarked. Then, a touch more excited, “Hey, check that out.”

“The sleigh?” Castiel asked.

He felt Dean nod. “That’s pretty awesome. We should do that.”

Castiel set his hands over Dean’s on his stomach. “We can do whatever you’d like,” he promised. “Later.”

Dean hummed. “You got something in mind in the meantime, baby?” His mouth, hotter now, was on the back of Castiel’s neck again.

One corner of Castiel’s lips pulled up. Anticipatory heat curled through his abdomen. He turned around in Dean’s arms, circled his own on Dean’s waist. He splayed his palms on the small of Dean’s back. “Yes,” he answered before kissing Dean deeply.

Dean groaned contentedly into it. He tightened his arms around Castiel and turned them around, their shoes and knees knocking together while Castiel let himself be led. The back of his legs hit against the bed. Dean lowered him down on top of the covers. Castiel’s legs were bent over the end of the mattress. He rounded one hand around the back of Dean’s neck, used his fingers to card through Dean’s hair. He kissed Dean’s face, careful to give gentle attention to the cuts and bruises.

Dean hummed when Castiel kissed the bruise on the bolt of Dean’s jaw. Dean always loved when Castiel kissed his wounds.

“I love you,” Castiel whispered to him. Even after all these years, it was a thrill just to say it.

“You a sleigh?” Dean asked, apropos of nothing. He lifted his head slightly, grinning salaciously down at Castiel, who frowned in question. “’Cause I’m about you ride you.”

Castiel sighed at the terrible joke. It only made Dean rumble more in laughter. Castiel felt the vibrations of it where their bodies were flush together.

“Fine,” Castiel relented, yanking at the back of Dean’s shirt. He played along, “We’ll need a slick surface for that.”

Dean wiggled his brows, his green eyes alight and beautiful. “Got just the thing.” He pressed another long kiss to Castiel’s lips before getting up with a grunt and moving to fish through his luggage.

Castiel shimmied up the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt. It wasn’t long until Dean was back. He tossed the jar of Vaseline on the bed and straddled Castiel’s lap. Dean unbuttoned Castiel’s shirt the rest of the way, kissing him again all the while.

Castiel took his time with Dean, just because he could.

Outside, the tinkling of the sleigh bells rang through the cold air.

[jnnul]

nct dream in college

a/n: my third fucking time posting this istg this is why i quit the first time tumblr let me post things in peace

word count: 2.6k

tags: idk the frattiest boys in town doing what college dudes do, just fluff, hinting at insecurity + fear for the future, and a couple mentions of ppl not following their dreams for practicality sake but what can u do tw: mentions of drinking & underage drinking, mentions of sex but no graphics

Originally posted by choi-soobin

gif creds: @choi-soobin​

finance bro w a music minor

i’m so sorry to all of the ppl who hc him as a nerdy music kid who just always thinks abt music

but that boy is a finance bro thru and thru and i will die on that hill

he’s in a frat but he’s honestly rlly shitty abt act going to the non-party frat stuff

and even the parties, he rlly only goes to bc he dj’s every single time

ppl get annoyed sometimes bc mark always tries to slip in some of his stuff into the mix but it’s honestly so good that he gets away w it

his homies make fun of him for it but he sits in the first three rows bc a) he’s fucking blind and b) he act rlly likes finance

like he enjoys the idea of finance + what he could do w it in the future

even if he doesn’t necessarily like business calc

goes to church on sundays (if he’s not hungover) and will be so respectful abt it that he convinces some of his non-christian friends to go to

mark has a good rep on campus for being an all around pretty chill dude

everyone’s also half convinced that he’s a plug

swears up and down that he doesn’t smoke but ppl have videos of him puffin like it’s his side hustle

it is

kinda sticks to his own friend group bc he’s a little shy

but when he’s drunk (when someone wrestles him out of his little dj booth to do shots w them)

he knows everyone and their mother all of a sudden

kinda cute when he’s drunk cause he’s rlly lovey

ppl kinda like like him as that cute guy in their class but he never rlly goes out of his way to pursue anyone so anyone who’s interested has to be the one who chases

isn’t clueless but is oblivious until one day you’re basically sitting on his lap during lecture and he’s like 😟🤨🧐😏

the day he gets cuffed tho literally no one can pull him apart from his girl

Originally posted by rainbowrenjun

gif creds: @rainbowrenjun​

so...this might be controversial

but i think renjun would be a international relations major, not an art major

i feel like he’s a practical guy and he likes art but not enough to pursue it as a livelihood yannowhatimean

isn’t that well connected on campus bc he keeps his friend circle very exclusive but literally everybody and their mother knows him

kinda has a reputation for being a little cliquey but he gets away w it bc he’s just genuinely a decent guy who’s on the more private side

you will never catch him drunk

like he def won’t be sober at parties but you’re never gonna see him stumbling around

the type of guy to keep an eye on a girl’s cup if she leaves it somewhere, even if no one asks him to

also volunteers on the weekends at a local shelter for ppl of different nationalities

a private guy tho. ppl rlly don’t get to know or understand him unless they’re part of his friend group

which is nearly impossible to join

just kinda cruisin’ thru life bc he’s unproblematic and just rlly wants to get a degree and dip

gets the some of the best grades out of his friends (jeno is the only one who does better and jaemin make a close second) but donghyuck insists it’s bc renjun’s major isn’t a real major

chenle threatens to send the video of donghyuck and renjun slipping on their asses and falling into the pool as renjun tried to fight donghyuck to every single person that renjun even considers seeing romantically

probably dates once a year, eventually falls out of attraction and then swears off dating

until donghyuck gets on his ass abt not having sex and then renjun’s competitive streak gets activated

during which he speed dates for like three weeks before finding someone and then trying to date them

isn’t very emotionally invested in his romantic relationships

except for one of them, and ever since they told renjun off, he was unseperable from them

renjun may or may not have a masochist streak it’s still unclear

Originally posted by poppypeachy

gif creds: @jaemtens​

a physics and education double major

he didn’t really know what he wanted to go into so he was undeclared for the longest time until he took a physics gen ed and ever since then, he’s been super into physics

only added education as his second major after he ta’d for physics 1 and for the first time, could actually see himself in that career

gets the most shit for being in a frat and simultaneously being the biggest fucking nerd but he just thinks its funny

isn’t super smart (like he’s not a genius or anything) but he works rlly hard for his grades so even tho his friends (donghyuck) make fun of him, everyone is inspired by his work ethic

until it’s the weekend

and then it’s like he’s another person altogether

he’s downing shots like there’s no tomorrow and if jeno lee attends a party by himself, then he’s leaving with at least one person

on a particularly daring occasion, he was seen leaving with three

people are convinced that jeno has a twin brother bc of how bold, lively, and undeniably charismatic he gets when he lets go of his inhibitions

jeno just smiles a sweet smile and redirects the conversation

a very much go with a flow type of guy

he’s down for pretty much anything as long as he makes it home in time to study for the next day

spontaneous camping trip? sure. smoke a blunt? sure. join a threesome w one of his best friends and his girlfriend? sure.

he just didn’t take a lot of things too seriously (besides his academics and whether or not his dick got wet)

and that was why a lot of ppl liked him

he was also a rlly easy person to talk to

everyone knew that the first half of his office hours were for actual physics and stuff and the second half was just for chilling w him

which is how he met his s/o, actually

they used to come for office hours every single time jeno held them and would stay the whole time; it was only two weeks later when jeno accidentally saw their test scores (straight 90s without the curve) that he realized that maybe, he was in the clear to make a move

after the semester is over ofc

Originally posted by donghyuckkies

gif creds: @donghyuckkies​

a poli sci major with a minor (or as he likes to call it, a concentration) in criminal justice

will not let you forget that he’s in a frat

no one has the heart to tell him that he almost got kicked out of the frat 3 times but they keep him around bc he’s just a good guy overall

plus he brings the most girls to parties so it’s rlly not all that bad

the dude who’s surprisingly quiet and intellectual, but only when you catch him on his own

when he’s with his friends, he acts completely differently, even if he turns around and mouths “i’m sorry” while no one is looking

probably runs a club like devil’s advocate club but it’s just a silly club that uses university money to buy snacks, chill, and talk about controversial opinions

lowkey the guy to go to if you need something or need something done because the man knows everyone

and everyone knows him

will make fun of you for studying, and might even steal your textbook, but sends you a quizlet with last year’s answers bc that’s just the type of person he is

does not study. will not study. would rather listen to music w mark or party w jeno.

still has pretty decent grades bc he’s charming and persuasive and what is political science besides the art of professional bullshitting

once you get close to him, he becomes one of the best ppl for advice

will not let you go after the sneaky link turned situationship

mostly bc he knows exactly what said situationship is rlly up to behind the scenes (i’m telling you, the fbi wishes that had him; he knows everyone’s business)

will die before he tells anyone but probs runs one of those confession pages

partly how he gets all of his info from

thinks it’ll ruin his street cred if he tells ppl he’s secretly playing cupid and that’s why he’s always messing w seemingly random combos of ppl

until one day, a confession comes in for him

def one of those boys who ‘reforms’ after he meets his s/o but is a loving menace nonetheless

Originally posted by jae-min

gif creds: @jae-min​ 

microbiology major on the pre-med track with a minor in visual art

has tried dropping the pre-med track at least 4 times but absolutely will not bc he gets too much fomo

also wants a job. with guaranteed 401k compensation and benefits. so.

is one of the less toxic pre-med kids but only because he’s so close to dropping out that he just can’t seem to take or give a shit anymore

lives in a perpetual state of caffeine high bc he will be damned if jeno gets better grades than him

lowkey, i feel like he’s one of those guys who only goes to parties to find ppl to fuck

like he doesn’t rlly like to drink or smoke (although he will take the occasional eddie)

but mans is stressed from the constant personality clash (within himself) so he literally jackhammers his stress away

too crude? sorry.

was once upon a time in every single club known to mankind

dropped out of almost all of them when he made the friends he wanted to make

somehow always ends up having to pay when everyone goes out

doesn’t tell anyone that he always loses on purpose (unless it’s to chenle) bc he knows that college is tough and not everyone has the same financial freedom as he does

exclusively studies at the school library bc he doesn’t rlly spend time w his friends outside of his main friend group unless its while he’s studying or at a party

although he’s not rlly studying bc he probably already got the notes and answers from the people who took the class a semester earlier than him

but again, he’s got a competitive streak about his grades so studies anyway

which is where he meets his s/o bc they’re always sitting in the same spot, looking stressed as fuck as they study

one time, jaemin and the other person are the only two ppl left studying post 3 am during hell week and he offers to buy them coffee

studies w his lovely s/o from then onwards and offers to bite donghyuck whenever he tries to disturb them <3

Originally posted by istjun

gif creds: @istjun​

marketing major i’m so sorry

he’s just such a finance bro + business major but he hates finance so he goes into marketing instead

school is a fucking joke to him

he’ll try hard enough to get by in his classes (and bc just being around poor stressed out jisung gives him motivation to study) but no more and no less than that

the first one to call it quits when they’re all studying together but renjun practically tapes him to a chair

also surprisingly intuitive and good at marketing so even if he barely tries, professors love him and somehow make him pass anyway

knows every international kid on campus bc he gets what it’s like and makes an effort to make them feel more at home

gets invited to every party that the international kids throw and never looks at a frat ever again

they go so fucking hard at those parties that chenle, THE business major, gets tired and has to turn in pre-2 am to avoid alcohol poisoning

doesn’t get home until 7 pm the next day bc a) he’s hungover and b) they love him so much and force him to stay so he just bums at their place until he’s good to go

will make fun of you and your bad decisions (even if they aren’t that bad) but will protect you at every turn if anyone else tries to say smth

will fucking go to bat for ppl he doesn’t even know that well bc chenle hates mean ppl

is on the intramural basketball team w a couple other guys

is very popular on the team bc he always knows the best restaurants and has been known to pay when he knows someone’s a tight spot

is very lowkey abt his wealth bc ppl like to take advantage of it so the ppl he does choose to help out are also very lowkey abt it

the type of dude to spot you like $50 and won’t ask you abt it

but ppl always pay him back whenever they can bc they know he’s helping a lot of ppl in rough situations, even if he’s very hush hush abt it

is the reason why jisung joins a frat and singlehandedly boosts his rizz by a decameter

probably has a childhood sweetheart that lives at home so he doesn’t partake in the romance scene on campus at all

is in love with them and will boast abt being taken

Originally posted by fool4nct

gif creds: @fool4nct​

a dance major

impractical? maybe. but the world’s going to shit anyway so might as well do what you want, right?

that’s what chenle says to jisung the day that he’s applying to his top school

is literally the student that the school begs to have join

offered every single scholarship under the sun to have him join bc such raw talent is rare nowadays and he’s just stuck like 😟😟😟

bc he had no idea that he would get in, much less have them like him so much

but for all his talent, he’s always fucking stressed abt something

sometimes it’ll be about a choreo and other times it’ll be abt the fact that he’s almost 98% sure he won’t get a job after college but his friends always get him out of his head

has abt 6 friends on campus (total) and it’s bc of chenle

so after freshman year, he decides to get out of his shell a little bit

and jisung park is the MAN to be around when he does

he’s charismatic, tall, an amazing performer, and really, just such a suave guy that straight men kinda have that weird jealousy where he’s so cool ppl wanna be friends w him and also hate him

still gets insecure abt his skills or his future but has ppl around him who love him and help him out of it every time

i’m ngl i think that he singlehandedly makes the dance team tryout numbers go from 12 - 15 ppl to 50 - 60 ppl

dance is his entire life and when he’s not rizzing up ppl (or honestly, getting rizzed up by them; he can’t flirt for shit when he rlly wants to) he’s on the dance floor

donghyuck has had to physically rip him off the floor to get dinner after a particularly rough night

even his fave dance teacher revoked his after class dance room privileges bc ppl got worried abt how much time he spent in there

decides to take a break when he realizes just how empty his days are w/o dance

gets into music production and has worked w mark more than once under pseudonyms

won’t say anything but listens to what everyone says abt the song when mark plays it at a party

still working on himself so a s/o isn’t rlly in the picture but ppl are not mad abt it bc he’s a good time with or w/o commitment

[22plus15]

here’s my lucy recap of the gotham vs chelsea match lol! i typed most of this directly after we left so apologies if it’s incoherent:

the atmosphere was very fun overall

the love for lucy is very serious when they announced the starting xis the screams for her were the loudest from what i heard (also lj) and at the beginning of the game some girl behind me screamed i love you lucy

during the game she did pass to our players a handful of times lol i was like thanks babe!!

i get why people say she’s tiny — she’s definitely slimmer than she looks in some pics but honestly she’s about what i expected. she’s just so hot overall i was trying to assess but i was mainly just staring whenever she was in front of me

i forgot about this until now but she started on the opposite side from where we were sitting so i was like oh yay next half she’ll be right in front of us and then sonia switched her to centerback for the second half😭😭 very rude

soooo many people waited for her at the end, the girls next to me were saying how much they love her and stuff it was so cute i was really with my people

like i said as soon as the chelsea huddle was done she turned around and did the cutest little run over to rose who was standing around talking to the uswnt girls so after their hug she stuck around and talked with them all for such a long time i was just watching them smiling like 😀

she also said hi to maitane who was really good friends with ona back at levante so that was cute

and then she talked to our gotham coach for a while (he’s spanish so in my mind she was practicing her elementary spanish with his kid) and since we know how much she likes negotiating her transfers with opposition coaches after games i can only imagine she was being recruited for 2026 😁😁 and then she stayed even longer to make it around to all the fans

like i said before on here i’m not very interested in meeting my favs but i brought my lb15 barça shirt anyway and when lucy came to our section to sign stuff i held it up and she gave such a cute smile and nod

and then this very sweet woman next to me had passed her england shirt to the front and got it signed and when she turned around she took mine and went back down to give it to her and she ended up getting a selfie so we both won lmao 😭 i didn’t expect her to hustle so hard for me but it was so sweet and my sister has the video of her signing it <33

she is very gorgeous i could see her freckles from where i was and her eyes were soso pretty i’ve always loved her eyes so much and they look even more beautiful in person

it was like a full hour after the game ended when we finally left and she was one of the last players on the field but she was still so sweet the entire time and i’m so glad she got to see how much everybody loves her over here

she did have ice on her knee and she was limping a lot but it didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary like it just reminds me of exactly what she did the first few games at barça last season i think she just needs time to get her fitness back and once the season gets going she’ll be good

that’s all i can think of rn but if there’s anything else you’d like to know lmkkk 🤍🤍 i’ll repost my videos here in a bit