#watch pretty little liars ho....... like??

[ariadnelives]

Dokkaebi Fire - A Short Story

Author's Note: The bulk of this story takes place during the events of "Force Majeure," directly between chapters 8 and 9, during the crew's time in hiding in Xiagu. It is not intended to be read in sequence. If you'd like to catch up on the series so far, you can do so on ao3 or tumblr.

“Cookie?” Pilar called into the flat as she entered, not waiting to be let in. “It's me today. Ariadne's making final preparations for her surgery tomorrow, but she'll be by as soon as she's back on her feet.”

Aoibheann sat on the armchair in the living room, pointed at the television which appeared to be carrying a local news broadcast from one of Saturn's other moons. She had a blanket draped over her lap, and she watched the news broadcast idly, taking in none of it.

“Remember, starting tomorrow, Ariadne won't remember anything beyond the six-month point in our stay here, and we have to keep it that way, so, be careful what you say around her.” Pilar laughed without joy.

Aoibheann did not.

“You know,” Pilar tacked on, “I'm a complete liar. You could dime out the whole plan and I'm pretty sure me and Ari would absolutely leap for joy as long as it meant you were talking again.”

Aoibheann glanced over at Pilar wistfully, dark circles under her eyes, but said nothing. These little responses indicated their old friend could still hear them in there, that they could get through to her, even if she couldn't muster the strength to respond. She'd barely spoken since they lost the station. She was usually a tightly-wound powder keg, full of fire and passion, and she had to direct it towards her purpose or else she’d explode. Now, it was like all that fire inside her had gone out, and all that was left of her was an exhausted shell of a woman.

She seemed able to move around on her own, but rarely found the motivation to do so. She had grown somewhat thin and gaunt, as she only ate when fed, so every day, Pilar or Ariadne or one of her apprentices would stop by to see her and make sure she ate. Sasha had been spreading herself far too thin on Ariadne's project, but still found time to check in on her and monitor her physical health. Her apprentices had removed all sharp objects, belts, and shoelaces from the premises, but Pilar thought that was overkill. She had known Aoibheann long enough to know she would never physically harm herself. Still, it didn't make it easy to watch her torture herself like this.

Pilar sat next to her, and gently took her hand.

“I hate having to feed you this stuff, Cookie,” she said, opening up a small gray package she'd brought with her. “Replicated MREs. No wonder Baltimore and Beam went to a convenience store twice a week when they were in the army.”

Aoibheann looked with disdain at the lump of meat before her, served with a mush that could only be described as “prepared grain.” She hated eating it as much as Pilar hated serving it to her.

In their small hidden town of Xiagu, all of the food came out of the replicators. Xiagu had a surplus of energy, with its passive solar collection and years of nobody to use the stored power, so nobody was worried about the expenditure of creating food and water from reserves.

Back on the station, they had only managed to earmark power for replicator use two years previously. Like most spacecraft, all of the water fixtures were powered by replicators, generating as much water as needed from a stored bank of energy, which was in turn refilled by a device in the drains which converted waste-water into energy. The food replicator could make prepared meals, but crew members would only be allowed to use it if they could make up the energy cost. This happened pretty naturally, as everybody had to use the bathroom regularly and could credit this to their account, and had the handy benefit of encouraging people to clean up after themselves-- every time you emptied your trash into the energy-reclamation chute, you added replicator energy to your canteen account.

However, back home, most people didn't bother to use the replicators, because truly, Cookie's food was better fresh than anything they could produce, and she loved making it. Here in Xiagu, however, the replicators had nothing but military-grade “Meals Ready to Eat” and raw ingredients programmed into them. When the town was alive, there had been gardens to produce the vegetables, and people to tend them, harvest them, and cook them in the many small restaurants. Now, all that was left was replicators.

Cookie's star apprentice, Yellow, had been put in charge of the replicators while Cookie was indisposed, and had very few requests for anything other than the prepared MREs since they'd been there. Everyone on the crew was required to learn to cook, from Cookie, and nobody particularly felt up to trying to fill her shoes. Everyone had pretty much accepted meals of nondescript lumps of meat, vegetables, and starches on the firm belief that any day now, Cookie would be back on her feet, doing what she loved.

Yellow was the one in charge of food distribution, and had desperately been asking Ariadne to authorize them to reopen Cookie's kitchen, with her at the helm, until Cookie was well enough to resume her post. It's what Cookie would want, she insisted, but Ariadne was taking Cookie's condition unusually poorly, and had refused to allow the kitchen to operate without Cookie present. Yellow was frustrated, but understood. Nobody would feel right about having communal meals like before without Cookie.

Pilar carefully cut up the packaged meal and fed bites to Cookie, who halfheartedly complied with each bite. She offered her a cup of tea, which Cookie held for warmth but wouldn't drink without prompting.

“Look, Aoibheann...” Pilar said, “I know you're not well. I know this has been harder on you than anyone.”

Cookie met her gaze.

“But I don't...” Pilar began, and choked. “I don't think Ariadne will go through with this with you in this condition. She cares about you too much. You know what you mean to her. To me. She's not going to put herself at risk until she knows you're okay.”

Aoibheann looked downcast.

“She needs you,” Pilar whispered. “I need you. Please come back to us.”

****

Aoibheann's mind drifted back to when she’d met Ariadne and Pilar, thirteen years previously. She had been living on the streets for two years and had only passing contact with Pilar. She had been homeless since the Hanguk-Éire massacre, when Susan Weaver’s bombs had incinerated her family’s house and restaurant, left her and her mother destitute, and claimed her father’s life. Her mother had turned to drugs to cope with the loss, and ultimately found herself bleeding out in the gutter after an altercation with a pusher who she couldn’t pay for her latest fix.

She had distrusted the new girl at first. In her experience, another new person living under the overpass was another person who might get to the good scraps before her. She didn’t need any more competition. There was, however, a certain unspoken respect between her and the Aguilar girls. They were the only kids living on the streets of that particular block, and they had to look out for one another. They didn’t talk much, but they had struck up an arrangement. Pilar needed to go foraging to keep Sasha fed, and knowing that she would have to dig through trash bins and steal from loosely-guarded shops to make this happen, she felt it was too dangerous to bring her nine-year-old sister along with her.

So, she struck up an arrangement with Aoibheann: if she kept Sasha safe while she went out on runs, Pilar would try and steal a little extra food so Aoibheann could eat as well. Pilar and Sasha had been squatting in an abandoned house on a nearby side-street, and Aoibheann could crash there in exchange for keeping an eye on Sasha. It was shelter, and food, and it was a better deal than she was getting anywhere else. Under normal circumstances, Aoibheann would’ve developed a mighty crush on Pilar, but crushes were the sorts of things normal girls got to have. Aoibheann needed to focus on staying alive.

The new girl had been Racquel when they met. She had been raving about how the world was going to end, a secret conspiracy to reign atomic hellfire onto the bio-domes. It was the standard fare of the doomsaying lunatic, so nobody paid her much mind, but she’d named Ramos and Ramos specifically in her raving, and that caught Pilar’s attention. Nobody hated the Ramoses like Pilar, although Aoibheann didn’t yet know why.

So, Pilar and Racquel started going out on runs together. Suddenly, they were bringing back more than enough food, not only for the four of them, but they even got to share it with the others under the bridge. One day, they came home clean, wearing fresh clothes, and carrying a bundle of new clothes under their arm. They told her that Racquel’s name was Ariadne now, and that they would be needing her help a lot more often. They’d found some sort of mentor, who would “get them out of here,” but they’d need to spend hours, even days, with her at a time.

Aoibheann wasn’t a fool. She knew that if they succeeded in getting out of here, that she would be left behind. She couldn’t, however, risk being thrown out on the street. She’d watch Sasha and crash on the floor of this abandoned townhouse as long as they’d let her.

Sasha seemed like such a little kid then, although Aoibheann knew on a logical level that she was only three years older.

“If you could be anything in the world when you grow up,” Sasha had asked her one day, while the other girls had been away at their mysterious mentor’s for a few days, “what would you be?”

“I’m just trying to grow up,” Aoibheann said, “if I can make it that far, I’ll see what I can get.”

Sasha scrunched her nose. “You’re not playing the game right.”

“I’m being realistic,” Aoibheann said.

Sasha breezed past this. “I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up.”

Aoibheann considered pointing out that Sasha had a third-grade education and no money, but thought better of it, and instead just sighed. “Well, it’d be a crying shame if you starved to death before then,” she said. “Let’s see what your sister left us.”

Aoibheann looked at the handful of scraps Pilar had left on the table. Pilar had stolen them an entire rotisserie chicken, which Aoibheann had admonished her for-- the abandoned house did not have a working refrigerator, she pointed out, so she’d have to use the meats straightaway or they would quickly spoil and attract flies-- and several cans of diced white potatoes, which Pilar figured would keep Sasha’s stomach full, but Aoibheann pointed out had very little nutritional value. This was, of course, in addition to the six chocolate bars Pilar had, being thirteen years old, been sure to nab on her little excursion.

Aoibheann had nothing in the way of seasonings, except for a variety of salt and pepper packets she’d taken from a loosely-supervised outdoor seating area at a nearby restaurant, as well as, on one extremely lucky day, three sets of cheap silverware and a bottle of hot sauce.

She did, however, have access to a small metal trash can with a lid, water from a neighbor’s hose spigot-- Aoibheann felt bad about this, because water was so tightly regulated on Mars and the owner would surely be steeply charged for the waste, but this was a low priority compared to their survival-- and an old gas stove that the new girl had rigged up to illegally supply them with heat.

Aoibheann had cut the meat off the bones of the rotisserie chicken and plopped the bones into the cold water with all the fat and gristle, and opened up a few of the salt packets into the mixture. She put it on the stove and let it heat up to a boil, then turned down the gas and watched as the mixture turned a translucent yellow. She eventually fished out the bones with her knife, and dumped all the potatoes, and the meat from the chicken, into the broth.

After it had stewed for a while, Aoibheann took a taste. It was thin, watery, and somewhat bland, but it would do for the time being. Using the now-empty potato cans, she scooped out two servings of soup and handed one to Sasha.

“Now, we just have to keep it just hot enough,” Aoibheann said, “and it won’t go bad. We’ll be able to eat this until your sister gets back.”

Sasha took a taste. “It’s…” she had been taught, if she had nothing nice to say, to say nothing at all, so she didn’t finish her sentence. Aoibheann had spent enough time with her to know what she meant.

“It’s a tick bland like this,” Aoibheann shrugged, passing her the hot sauce. “Give it a dash of this, it’ll be a sight better.”

Sasha complied, tasted it, and her face made it clear that while it was in fact a sight better, it still wasn’t quite tasty.

“My mom used to make potatoes with a cheesy sauce,” Sasha said sadly. “They were really spicy. Pilar’s favorite food.”

“My dad was more of a cabbage man,” Aoibheann said. “My mom handled the meats, him the veggies. Hanguk-Éire cuisine is… all about things coming together in the pot.”

Sasha added a little more hot sauce to her soup.

“I wanted to be a cook,” Aoibheann said. “Like my folks, before, all this. My dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. And so on and so on, all the way back to our homelands.”

“You could still be a cook,” Sasha said, eyeing her soup. “...someday.”

“Well, we’ll have to get your sister to scrounge us up some quality ingredients, then, won’t we?” Aoibheann said.

The two of them finished their soup, and Aoibheann noted that it was getting late, and insisted that Sasha go to bed. Sasha refused without a story, and Aoibheann tossed back a “tough titties” which was met with an infuriatingly irresistible pout.

“FINE,” Aoibheann groaned, and improvised a story.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom,” Aoibheann began. This was how all her stories began, they all took place in this kingdom. “The kingdom, you see, had been through every horror you could put a kingdom through. It had been invaded. It had been burned. It had been taken over and torn in half and put back together again more times than you could count. Every evil overlord you could name had taken the place over, at one time or another. So the people in the kingdom, they were always sad, and they started to wonder, would they ever be free? And then, one day, they found out, there was another kingdom, just like them, halfway round the world, and they decided to join forces. But then, after a few decades of unity and prosperity, the entire world fell into darkness, and the people of the two kingdoms had to run. They ran far away, and found a new promised land in the desert, and built a home there.”

“Then, one day, in the new kingdom, there was a little girl who lived in a little house with her ma’ and her da’, and she loved her life. The dark creature from the old world, it caught up with them. It took her da’, and burned down her house, and she and her mother had to go out into the woods.”

Sasha looked scared. “The woods?”

“Aye,” Aoibheann said, “and her mother dear didn’t last long. There were these flares of Dokkaebi Fire, the goblin lights, and mother dear thought surely she could follow them to safety… Pretty soon, the little girl was all on her own.”

“I don’t like this story,” Sasha said, trying not to betray how frightened she was.

Aoibheann sighed. “Neither do I. But see, the story has a happy ending.”

“Happy?” Sasha asked.

“Happy enough,” Aoibheann replied, “for now. See, the little girl knew not to follow the goblin lights. She ran into the dark, and there she found… a brave, dashing adventurer. A gorgeous girl, noble and good, who’d been lost in the woods herself.”

Sasha’s eyes brightened at this. “Did she have a sword?”

“A little one, aye,” Aoibheann laughed. “And she was on a quest, to find a way out of the woods. But the problem was, she had to look after a sweet, wee little baby, and couldn’t leave it long enough to make any real progress. So the little girl, she’d faced all the darkness in the world. She could handle a wee little baby! She agreed to take care of the baby while the adventurer looked for a way to save herself and the little one.”

“Did she find a way out?”

“Someday she will,” Aoibheann said, “but all she found so far was… a sorceress.”

“This story has everything,” Sasha said.

“The sorceress was as beautiful as the adventurer, and sharp as a tack, but she was untrained. Powerful magic, but she didn’t know how to use it.” Aoibheann explained, “so, together, they managed to track down the Baba Yaga, a wise but crafty old witch, who could teach the sorceress and adventurer how to find the way.”

“And the little girl?” Sasha asked.

Aoibheann thought about this. “The little girl gets to spend time with the sorceress, and the adventurer, and that sweet wee little baby,” she said, “and she appreciates the time she has with them. Someday, they’ll find their way out, and she’ll still be in the woods, but she’ll always be glad to have met them. The end.”

Sasha crinkled her nose. “That’s a bad ending,” Sasha said bluntly. “The little girl should just leave the woods with them. Then find the creature that took her house, and kill it.”

“And how’s she gonna do that?” Aoibheann laughed.

“The adventurer and the sorceress will help her!” Sasha said. “Maybe the Baby Yaga can tell her some spells!”

“Baba Yaga,” Aoibheann corrected. “Okay, so say she does. Say she tells the adventurer and the sorceress everything that happened, and they go slay the evil creature. What happens next?”

Sasha thought about this. “Maybe they fight another creature,” she said. “An octopus?”

“Why are they fighting an octopus?” Aoibheann asked, still chuckling.

“It’s guarding a treasure,” Sasha said as though it were the most obvious thing in the universe. “You have heard a story before, right?”

“Fair enough,” Aoibheann said. “And then, say, they beat all the creatures. What then?”

“Happily ever after,” Sasha said triumphantly.

“Well, you’re a sight more deft at this than I am,” Aoibheann said. “Let’s get you to sleep, I’ll do better next time.”

Aoibheann swaddled Sasha in the dirty, tattered blanket that they’d found a few weeks earlier, sat out in the hallway, and began to cry.

In the present day, Aoibheann thought back to her sobbing in the hallway. At the time, she was convinced that Ariadne and Pilar would surely abandon her when they finished training with Blue. When they started building their first spacecraft in an alley under the bridge, she’d defended it from thieves and scrappers at knifepoint, even thinking that they would use it to leave her behind. When, against all odds, Ariadne had built a spaceworthy craft, she was stunned into silence when they invited her along.

“Don’t be dumb,” Pilar had said, extending a hand to her “of course we’re taking you with us. We started this crew to keep Sasha fed. How are we gonna do that without a cook?”

And so, Cookie had been born. As the goblin lights lit the way to ruin, Pilar’s hand pulled her onto the right path.

****

Now, Pilar’s hand was busy cutting up bites of nondescript meat and placing them into Aoibheann’s mouth.

“Do you remember… back in our street urchin days,” Pilar asked, “Me and Ariadne would come home from Blue’s, put Sasha to bed, and then you, me, and her would stay up late gossiping. We’d show you all the cool stuff Blue had taught us in our lessons, and you’d take the ingredients we’d stolen for you-- better ones, after you started giving me lists-- and you’d teach us how to cook like you.”

Aoibheann almost smiled, and Pilar saw it.

“Alright, you’re right,” Pilar said, cutting her another bite and placing it in her mouth. “Nobody can cook like you. Don’t let it go to your head. But you taught us to cook better than most people.”

Aoibheann accepted another bite wordlessly.

“You know, Ariadne used to use Blue’s tricks to fix up that abandoned house, Alan’s house, and I used to show you all the martial arts tricks, and you’d be rapt with attention,” Pilar said. “When me and Ari started dating, we had a friendly debate about it. See, I thought you had a crush on her, and she thought you had a crush on me. Joke’s on us, turns out you were more than capable of having both.”

Aoibheann came close to smiling again.

“Funny, that’s a fond memory now. Back then, it was the worst year of our life,” Pilar said. “Wonder what we’ll remember fondly from now, when we’re older.”

Aoibheann’s fractional smile faded away. She couldn’t imagine anything worth cherishing from this time. But then, she couldn’t back then, either.

“And we don’t have to talk about…” Pilar cut herself off. “I mean, the… what we’ve had together… The unspoken closeness between the three of us. Rare as it might be that we’ve acted on it, it’s still special to me. To us.The problem has never been that we don’t feel about you, the way you feel about us. If you wanted... what’s between the three of us... to be more, it’d be yours in a heartbeat.”

Aoibheann looked down at her lap.

“We’ve always loved you, Cookie,” she explained. “And don’t get twisted up on the definitions. Every sense of the word. Whatever you’re thinking I surely can’t mean… I mean it. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. I just hate to think that… I mean… we’re going into the most dangerous time we’ve ever faced. If something happens, to me or to Ari… I just want to know you know what you mean to us. To me.”

Pilar gave her another bite, and Aoibheann didn’t fight her on it.

“Do you remember our wedding?” Pilar asked, and laughed. “Of course you do. Hard to forget something like that. Do you remember how angry you were that we wouldn’t let you cook us a grand feast?”

There was a spark in her eyes that demonstrated that she had not, in fact, entirely let this go.

“We stole the supplies for hamburgers from a local grocery store, and made Beam cook them,” Pilar said. “We actually almost got caught, pulled over for speeding on the way home. Ariadne told the cop her name was Ariadne Baltimore. Small town, local cops, everybody knew their parents, they figured they’d just miscounted the sisters, and let her go. Idiots.”

Pilar sighed.

“You weren’t allowed to cook because Ariadne needed you by her side,” she explained. “You were her maid of honor for a reason, Cookie. Our crew, our marriage, our family… where would we be without you? Would we even be us?”

Pilar offered Aoibheann another bite, and she didn’t take it. Pilar looked concerned. She hadn’t eaten nearly enough to be satisfied yet.

“What is it?” Pilar asked.

Aoibheann opened her mouth, thought hard, her eyes darting back and forth as though she was trying to make sense of something she couldn’t put words to.

“Aoibheann, are you… are you alright?” Pilar asked. “Should I get Sasha?”

Aoibheann shook her head vigorously. She had been lost in her depression for months, wondering if she was really better off waking up in the morning, but suddenly, the floodgates had come open, and she couldn’t wait one more second to let out what had been eating at her and destroying her soul ever since they’d lost the station.

Her voice was dry and raspy. She had not spoken more than two consecutive words in weeks, and her body vehemently protested the sudden change in this policy.

“Was it my fault?” She asked, thinking back to a conversation she'd had with their tormentor years ago. “Did I do this to us?”

****

“Excellent work today, everyone,” Cookie’s voice boomed through the kitchen. “The festivities went off without a hitch. This is an anniversary our captain won’t soon forget.”

“Thank you, Chef,” her crew echoed back.

“Dismissed,” she said to the assembled kitchen staff, and then quietly approached one of the greener pirates who’d recently started the galley rotation that was mandatory for the whole crew. “Libby, a word?”

Cookie ushered Libby into a small room at the back, which she used for prep when she was working on more intimate, personal projects. This was the room where she prepared birthday meals for Spacebreather, Ariadne, and Sasha. This was the table on which she’d painstakingly crafted Ariadne and Pilar’s wedding cake. The small walk-in freezer was the one where she’d had a brief, clumsy tryst with Blue on a rare visit to the station, after Cookie had enraged her by challenging her to a contest to see who could make a better mole negro oaxaqueño sauce, and then winning it.

Libby had been invited into the inner sanctum, and the look on Cookie’s face made it absolutely clear that it was not an honor.She was in deep trouble. Worse still, there was a salt shaker on the table in front of her.

“Do you think this is funny, lass?” Cookie asked. “Is this a fun game to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chef,” Libby said, actually looking somewhat convincing.

“The cap of the salt shaker was unscrewed. One shake, and dinner would’ve been ruined.” Cookie said. “It was your responsibility to set the table in the captain’s quarters.”

Libby got immediately defensive. “Anybody could’ve done that,” she said, “I didn’t do it, it’s totally unfair that you--”

“Anybody could’ve,” Cookie said. “But I gave you a responsibility. You were responsible for the Captain’s table. You signed off on a table with an unscrewed salt shaker on it. That makes you responsible for the salt shaker, whether you placed it there or not.”

“How is that fair?” Libby replied indignantly.

“Lass, why do you think Ariadne requires all crew to complete a rotation in my kitchen before they’re cleared for field service?” Cookie asked.

“She needs someone to cook for her?” Libby asked derisively.

Cookie sneered. She did not care for Libby, and never had. The girl seemed to attract drama. How, she wondered, could someone with so few friends be so perpetually in the middle of a falling out with a group of them? “And why do you think my standards are so meticulous?” Cookie asked.

Libby declined to answer, because she knew her honest answer would get her in trouble, but her face betrayed what she wanted to say: “Because you’re a huge bitch?”

Cookie answered her own rhetorical questions. “The skills you need to be successful in here, will be invaluable to you out there. You didn’t go over your loadout with a fine-toothed comb. You didn’t take the responsibilities you were trusted with seriously. You allowed your crewmates to operate with faulty equipment, that, had I not intervened, would’ve caused the mission objective to fail.”

“To be clear,” Libby said, “the ‘mission’ was serving them dinner.”

“IN HERE IT’S DINNER,” Cookie bellowed, her eyes full of all the rage and fire that she kept tamped down in her heart every second of every day, and slammed her fists on the table, knocking down the salt shaker. The chrome lid clattered off, and salt spilled onto the teak countertop. Cookie wordlessly grabbed a pinch of it and tossed it over her left shoulder. “In here, you fail in your duties and it means dinner isn’t very good that night. Out there, you fail in your duties and your sisters in arms die. That’s why Ariadne makes you work with me before you’re allowed to work for her. You can’t be trusted to handle the stakes out there if your team, and your commanding officer, can’t even trust you to do your job correctly when the stakes are only whether tonight’s chicken will be a little dry. Is that crystal clear?”

Libby looked as though she was about to protest, or accuse Cookie of being melodramatic, but Cookie cut her off. “Think very carefully about what you say next,” she said, “and if you’re lost as to what answer I’m looking for...” She pointed at the band that she kept tied around her head, so that even if one of her brilliant red hairs slipped out of its tight bun, it would still not fall into her face. It was white, and said, in bold black text, “YES CHEF.”

Libby grumbled. “Yes, chef,” she said. “next time, I’ll check the table settings more carefully.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cookie said. “But I think it’s important that you know… I know you put the shaker on the table.”

“What?!” Libby snapped.

“If the Captain, or her first mate, were to be poisoned, I would need to be able to verify who’d done the deed.” Cookie said. “Every step of my meal preparation is accounted for. There is a record of every action taken in this kitchen, cupboard-to-table. If something goes wrong with a meal, within seconds I will be able to identify the point of failure and exactly who was responsible for preventing it. Of course, it helps to have a private video feed into the captain’s quarters.”

Cookie tossed her communications device onto the table, and hit play. It projected a small, but surprisingly clear, hologram of Libby setting the table, smirking as though struck with an idea, and unscrewing the cap of the salt shaker.

“You have… a security camera… in their quarters?!” Libby asked.

“I’m the only person in the system they trust with it,” Cookie said. “I trust them with my life, and they trust me with theirs. Now, I gave you a chance to confess to your little prank, and you decided to lie, to pass the buck onto someone else. I’m afraid I can’t let that slide. I’ll have to fail you for this rotation. Come back at the start of the next one and you can reapply.”

“What?!” Libby snapped again. “I’m two days away from finishing! I have to start my galley rotation over again just because you caught me playing a harmless prank on your little pervy peep-show?”

“Call it pervy if you like,” Cookie said dismissively. “The nature of my relationship with the captain and her first mate is enthusiastically sanctioned and is, frankly, none of your concern. The behavior you showed in here, would’ve only spoiled Captain Ariadne’s dinner. If you showed the same level of carelessness and irreverence out there, it might’ve gotten someone killed. ‘Harmless’ indeed. You’re not responsible enough for field work until you can prove you can handle kitchen duty.”

“This is bullshit,” Libby said, gathering up her things to storm out of the room. “Like it even matters whether that bitch’s little dinner is ruined.”

Cookie slammed her fists on the counter again.

“Captain Ariadne is the greatest woman who ever lived,” Cookie growled, “and if I hear you speak of her like that in my presence again, you’ll lose a hell of a lot more than your galley rotation.”

Libby moved to storm out, but Cookie rushed the door and held it shut.

“Now, you listen to me, you little twerp,” Cookie said, jabbing a finger into Libby’s chest, shaking with anger. “That woman pulled me out of the gutter-- pulled all of us out of the gutter. There is nothing more important than the work she does, and we are the beating heart that allows her to do it. So if you want to be a part of this crew, you’ll show her some goddamned respect and start taking your work fucking seriously.”

Libby looked furious.

“What do I want to hear?” Cookie asked pointedly.

Pilar was astonished. “You think… because you were hard on the Nameless in her galley rotation… that she went totally off the rails, tried to kill us, and drove us out of our home?”

“Yes, chef,” Libby grumbled after a beat, and Cookie allowed her to pass.

****

“She tried to say we were like a cult,” Cookie said weakly. “That we were just minions blindly following Ariadne’s orders. That we turned against anybody who didn’t fall in line.”

“Is any of that true?” Pilar asked rhetorically. “Does the crew actually act like that?”

Cookie let the tears come. “I do,” she said. “What if she… how do I know she isn’t holding my devotion, my zeal, against the entire crew?”

“You… blindly follow Ariadne’s orders?” Pilar asked, entirely rhetorically. “That’s a surprise, I thought you really believed in our mission.”

Cookie was taken aback. “I do!’

Pilar smiled. “There’s some of that fire,” she said. “I’ve missed it. Aoibheann… when is the last time Ariadne actually gave you an order?”

Cookie had to think about this, but came up short.

“Exactly,” Pilar said. “This is what’s been eating you, all this time?”

Aoibheann looked afraid to reply, so she just asked what she’d wanted to ask, ever since they were driven out of their home.

“Do you forgive me?” She asked. “Does she… does she forgive me?”

Pilar looked Aoibheann square in the eyes. “Cookie, you’ve never needed our forgiveness. An insane terrorist attacked our home. There’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent that.”

This was not what Aoibheann wanted to hear.

Pilar sighed. “Of course we forgive you, Aoibheann,” she said in a voice that sounded entirely earnest, but using words that betrayed how sarcastic she was being: “for not allowing someone who turned out to be a sexual predator and an actual serial killer tamper with our food and ruin our anniversary. We forgive you for being the most devoted friend we’ve ever had. Because someone else mistreated us, it must’ve been wrong that you treated us right. We will always forgive you for loving us, Aoibheann. You will never lose our forgiveness for that.”

Aoibheann was struck speechless again.

“Don’t go quiet on me,” Pilar said affectionately, “I just got you to talk again! I’ve missed your voice.”

“I appreciate your taking care of me,” Cookie admitted, “while I’ve been… not myself.”

Pilar gently put her hand on Aoibheann’s, and gave it a squeeze, and then told her the most reassuring truth she had.

“The Nameless is a user,” she said. “She wants a bunch of people who act like puppets and put her well-being first. Ariadne spends every second of every day encouraging her crew to think and act for themselves, and to put each other’s well-being above all else. That’s why she thinks Ariadne’s a tyrant. Not because you defended her honor after a sociopath tried to ruin her anniversary and then called her a bitch.”

Aoibheann felt as though she’d just received absolution for something that had been dragging her through the muck for months. How could she not believe Pilar, of all people? She began to cry openly.

“Hey, hey,” Pilar said, “it’s okay! I got you.”

“I’ve let the crew down,” she said, “had them eating this flavorless mush for however many months. I’ll be back at a stove first thing in the morning, don’t you worry--”

Pilar laughed. “Aoibheann… Cookie, I’m glad you’re back but… don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Let your apprentices handle it for a bit. Besides, you haven’t walked by yourself in a pretty long time. It’ll take a bit before you’re seaworthy again, let alone fit to run a kitchen.”

Aoibheann looked downcast. “Well, I’ve spent enough time sitting around like a lump being no good to anybody,” she said indignantly.

“You’re plenty good to us,” Pilar said flatly, “just by being here. We love you, Cookie. You don’t need to… justify your existence by being a devoted servant.”

Aoibheann was uncomfortable with this sentiment, and it showed on her face. This was, after all, how she showed her affection for Ariadne and Pilar. How could she show them her love and devotion without being able to cook for them?

“I don’t know how to…” Cookie began. “Please… Please, just… tell me what to do.”

Pilar sighed. She knew Cookie was far too devoted to her duties to go completely without orders. “She and I will be back in a few hours, for dinner. Let her hear your voice. Tell her you love her, and wish her luck on her procedure. If you have the strength, give her a hug. And, most importantly, just… please, be okay. Be kind to yourself and take all the time you need to get back on your feet. We’ve only got the one Cookie, so take care of her for us, okay?”

Cookie smiled, and squeezed Pilar’s hand back with what little strength she could muster.

Pilar picked up the now-empty tray that the MRE had been on. “Now that you’re back, do I have your permission to start up the kitchens? Let your apprentices do some real cooking?”

Cookie nodded her head.

“Then I guess this is truly an event worth of celebration: you’ve had your last Meal-Ready-To-Eat,” Pilar laughed. “I’ll see you tonight, Cookie. I want to put some meat back on your bones, so I’ll be cooking, and I expect you to be looking over my shoulder and barking orders at me the whole time.”

Cookie looked at her and smiled, and Pilar’s heart melted. It had been a long time since anyone had seen that.

****

Cookie’s apprentices stood in a straight line at the back of the Hotpot Spot, an abandoned restaurant that Sweettalk had identified as her childhood favorite. Cookie, wearing the chef’s coat she’d fled the station in, freshly laundered, and her trademark “YES CHEF” headband, limped into the restaurant, supported by a cane that Sweettalk had fished out of her childhood home, and said had belonged to her grandfather.

Cookie was still not back to full strength, but her apprentices could see the fire they’d come to fear and love had returned to her eyes.

“As you may have noticed,” Cookie announced, the natural loudness of her voice undiminished by her time indisposed, “I have been… unwell, of late. As such, I am unable to resume my duties at this time.”

Her staff turned to her chief apprentice, Yellow, for guidance. Yellow remained silent, so the rest of them did as well.

“It’s alright, kids,” she said, stamping the cane on the ground loudly. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not my old self yet. It’s fine. I wouldn’t feel right resuming my post here anyhow. This isn’t my kitchen. I’ve called you all here because you are the apprentices most equipped to run a kitchen of your own.”

Yellow nodded in assent.

“As such, I have a new directive for each of you, until such time as we’ve retrieved my kitchen, and I’m back to my usual vim and vigor, each of you is to select one of the defunct restaurants in this town, take your pick of the remaining staff and any available volunteers, and you will run your kitchens to the standard I have taught you.”

Cookie sighed.

“I know what you all think,” she said. “I know what you’ve said to me, in the past. You think your best is only a pale imitation of my cooking. But I need you all to know that… isn’t true.”

“Chef?” Yellow asked.

“I was the fourth person on this crew, lass,” Cookie said. “The first person to join, after the founding members. At the beginning, we had one mission: Keep Sasha Fed. There is nothing I value more highly than that mission. I live for it, and if I’m blessed with the chance, I will happily die for it. We may have expanded the definition of ‘Sasha’ to include everyone we love, but this mission is and will always be my life’s labor. Food doesn’t just sustain us. It is love, in physical form. The Captain and the First Mate have been very gracious to me, in the time we’ve known each other, by allowing me to show them my love and devotion in the way I’m able to offer. Over the last nine months, they have shown me the devotion was not one-sided, and given me the love I was able to accept. So your mission is, as it always has been: get in the kitchen, and show your love to the crew. Fill their bowls with it, in the way only you can, with or without me. And when your cup is empty…”

Cookie choked up a bit, and did a halfway decent job masking it.

“...When your cup is empty, allow those who love you to fill it back up, until you’re ready to pour from it again.”

After a long, uncomfortable beat, her crew shouted back “Yes, Chef!”

“I have been derelict in my duties,” Cookie said. “I let you go this many months without loving one another properly, because you wouldn’t do it without me.”

“Chef, permission to speak freely?” One of her younger apprentices, a quiet young boy who specialized in pastries, piped up.

“Granted,” Cookie said.

“You never ordered us not to run the kitchens without you. In fact, before…” He paused carefully, then opted to leave it unsaid, “before, you always taught us how to take the lead for the rest of the crew, when you had to cook for the Captain’s table. We wouldn’t run the kitchens without your say-so because…”

“It’s okay, lad, no need to be scared of the likes of me,” she reassured him.

“We were ordered not to,” he told her. “The Captain was very clear: ‘There’s no crew without Cookie.’”

Cookie leaned on her cane and looked a bit sad.

“She couldn’t handle it, Chef,” Yellow explained. “Knowing somebody else was doing your work, while you were suffering the way you were.”

Now Cookie could feel her heart melt. “She said that, did she?”

The young baker boy winced. “She said that there’s nothing more important than the work you do, and that everything the crew does, is just so you can do it,” he said. “She said… well, she said she was derelict in her duty to you, and that she couldn’t replace you until she’d made it right. Until you’d forgiven her for letting you down.”

Cookie laughed. “We’ve known each other a long time, indeed,” she said. “The captain is a sentimental one, I’m afraid. She blames herself for all this. For my condition. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s still more Catholic than she’d like to admit.”

Everyone’s eyes flared at this. Of course none of them would tell her she’d said that, as they all valued keeping their heads attached to their necks too much. Cookie was one of the only people in the system who could get away with saying something like that in front of Ariadne.

“She could never let me down if she tried,” Cookie said, “and even if she did, I will always forgive her. That you can repeat to her. Now, that’s enough prattling on from an old fool. You all have restaurants to open. To work!”

“Yes, Chef!” Her apprentices all shouted, and broke formation to claim their restaurants.

“And remember,” she shouted after them. “If you talk to the Captain, this was her idea!”

She had, in fact, passed her forgiveness along to Ariadne the previous day, before her surgery, and assured her that she didn’t need forgiveness, the same way Pilar had done to her. After her procedure, Ariadne wouldn’t remember Cookie giving her consent to reopen the kitchens, but she was delighted that when she came out of it, she seemingly remembered, on some level, that she had been absolved of all wrongdoing.

She was relieved when, during the fight Alicia staged with her, Ariadne had suggested they put her apprentices to work in the kitchens. Despite being set back several months, she was done punishing herself, and letting everyone else punish themselves with her. It was a do-over many were not fortunate enough to get, and after all she’d lost, Aoibheann was not one to turn her nose up at a second chance.

****

Months later, when all this was over and Sasha’s medicine and a lot of good eating had restored her muscles into mostly proper working order-- she still felt uneasy at times, and preferred to keep the cane on hand, just in case-- they were repatriated to their home, the Nameless had been defeated, and the station had erupted into a celebratory frenzy. Yellow and the kitchen staff had burned the candle at both ends to supply enough party snacks to keep anyone from drowning in all the wine. Two former crew members, Baltimore and Beam, had returned to the station to join in the celebrations. Sweettalk and Sasha had, believing themselves slick, pulled Ghostrunner and her new girlfriend Vigil back to their quarters. Alicia had brought Blue back to the station and, in the haze of wine, loudly announced her intention to start a relationship with her, before disappearing back to her own quarters. Cookie and Blue had, despite their past rivalry, a deep, abiding respect for one another, and Blue was one of the few people who was authorized to do as she pleased in the kitchen. Cookie knew firsthand that after Blue’s enthusiastic and athletic lovemaking, she would likely need something to eat, and a bit more wine, so she’d set a bottle of red and a bowl of fresh mozzarella in conspicuous locations in the hopes that she would find them. Cookie was, uncharacteristically, not in the kitchen that night.

If she had learned anything from the past year, it was that she had to sometimes set the weight of the world down, and allow the people she loved to take care of her as much as she took care of them. So, as had become tradition, once per month, she would retire to the Captain’s quarters instead of her own, and allow her friends to show them how much they loved her. Pilar spent the day marinating meats, just the way Cookie had taught her, and Ariadne had built a heating element into her personal dining table so that Pilar could cook them some of Cookie’s favorite foods.

They would then retire to the bedroom for a night of passion-- Ariadne always had some new device she’d built and wanted to show off. Being married to Spacebreather, she was in the unfortunate position of being a bit of a pillow princess, but not on pillow principle, and so never had anyone else to use it on, and Cookie was the only person other than Ariadne who Spacebreather was willing to touch. They would spend this time laughing, and experimenting, and making sure not an inch of her, or the captain, went unkissed, and then they would fall asleep in each other’s arms, all the while gossiping and reminiscing the way they had back on Mars.

Sometimes, on these nights, Cookie would think back to what Spacebreather said to her, during her episode, about how if she ever wanted something more between them, she could have it.

The thing was, she didn’t want something more. She treasured these nights they had together, but as far as she was concerned, nothing had changed about what they were to her. They were her best friends, and they were her calling in life. She would, to the best of her ability, serve their mission with almost religious zeal. Even unto her death, she would prioritize keeping her loved ones happy and healthy. She had already loved them, more, she believed, than she could ever love anyone else, even when they had started an exclusive relationship with one another, and she was just a heartbroken teenager pining after them both. How could she want something more, when she couldn’t even imagine something better than what she already had?

The first time the three of them had ever fallen into bed together, years after Ariadne and Pilar had made it clear they were soulmates, they had been a ball of teenage hormones, propelled by a raunchy party game that had gotten a bit out of hand. Aoibheann had awoken mortified and furious at herself for daring to succumb to her own desires like this. Her whole life, whenever she’d allowed herself to love something, it was taken away, and that only when she accepted that something was beyond her grasp, would she stand a chance of being lucky enough to attain it. She was sure that by admitting to her wants, and acting on them, she had ruined everything. Except, Ariadne and Pilar noticed her embarrassment and simply chose to behave as though nothing had changed. It had happened only occasionally in the past, and each time, Ariadne and Pilar would wait for Cookie to bring it up. Otherwise, it was completely unspoken.

The one crucial difference was, now, Aoibheann “Cookie” Gyeong, once the saddest girl on Mars, had finally accepted that it was okay to want, and to act on those wants, that this was not following the goblin lights to her death as her mother had. She, who loved her life so much that she shut down for the better part of a year when she feared it had changed irreparably, spent most of her time refusing to acknowledge what she loved about it. She did her job, showed her love, and asked for nothing in return except for the ability to keep doing it.

“You know,” Ariadne said, running her fingers through Aoibheann’s long, smooth, bright red hair, as a sleeping Pilar cradled them both in her arms, “we don’t do any of this for you. We do it because we like doing it. It’s fun for us.”

Cookie laughed. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” she quipped.

Ariadne smiled, and told her something she’d waited years to be sure Cookie would be ready to hear. “Thank you,” she said, “for being my friend. For loving me. For making what we do worth it.”

Aoibheann shot a smile right back. “I could say the same to you.”

[geekyhistoriansunite]

Man Suang is a pretty good and solid movie!

Ok, putting out there. I got involved in Thai drama due to Kinnporsche the Series, no I have no shame about it. It was fun, it had good looking dudes, and even though it initially seemed over the top in acting effort, the actors started to flow into their characters better and it was a fun show. Kinnporsche had amazing behind the sceens stuff that actually got me interested in the actors, especially Apo and Mile, who are freaking cute together. But all good things must end and so did the series.

But then there was a ray of hope! A glorious teaser was released.

Please note: Absolutely none of this teaser was in the movie, which I find both exasperating because I love every bit of it and the music, but also hilarious, because they caught your attention.

Please note pt. : All the BL lovers from Kinnporsche were salivating hard and if they said they weren't they're lying liars who lie.

So attention was given. And it took a long while, but then they released on official trailer at the Cannes Film Festival! Oh shnap, we got some extreme legitimacy here. This was not going to be cheap film, this was going to be quality. And all the BL lovers are still crying in anticipation at seeing their boys back together again.

Please note pt. 3: We still have NO idea what this movie is about. Just have the visual, which are gorgeous and a couple written lines teasing, but still no actual plotline. That's ok, the interest is still strong.

And one thing Be On Cloud does VERY well, is know how to advertise and keep people's interests. And it finally releases almost a year later. And lots of people cry. Not because it's a bad movie, but because there's no blatant BL storyline. There are hints, teases, looks, but that is not the main storyline. People are crying online, they've been deceived, there's no BL!

Please note pt. 4 (I'm having way to many please notes): Be On Cloud NEVER said it was BL. It was inferred since both Apo and Mile were pared in a movie together and the fact that Bo On Cloud only had the one series with mega BL plotlines.

The only reviews I could read (In English, which is all I read. I know, I should try other languages but I legit have tried 4 languages and I just can't) mostly complained about the lack of BL storyline and that it was slow at times. No synopsis, no breakdowns. Full stop. I was sad. I kept checking on my tried and true Tumblr, which normally doesn't disappoint, but nada, bupkis. I was sad. Again. There was no release date I could find with English subtitles. Again, sadness ensued.

But finally, glory be, it was announced that Man Suang release on Netflix. Today. Yay! And after work I sat and watch it all, and here is my review...finally.

Man Suang is actually a pretty good movie. Most of my knowledge of Thai culture comes from BL shows, which helped a little but I did have to pause occasionally to look something up (the betal nuts for example) and I'm sure I missed a lot of things, but I got a pretty good understanding of everything. The pacing was a bit different from movies in the US, and that could be jarring, but I got used to it. Overall it was a good movie. I'd watch it again (which is a big deal for me, I watch once and then remind myself with fanfiction).

Thoughts (spoilers below):

Everyone was in a fucked up position. Except, Tiang, fuck him.

Khem: Sweetheart, just trying to take care of his friend. The finale probably fucked him up a bit. I like to consider Chatra comes back and gives him some comfort.

Please note (Please don't ask me what number this is): There's now going to be a BL series called Shine which is going to follow their relationship. See? Just had to be patient.

Chatra: Yeah, I'd be concerned if my father was a traitor and my whole family was going to pay for it. (On a side note: What is the Thai repercussions for that? Ancient China had death of the whole family for so many generations, but I'm not sure what they are in Siam.)

Wan: Baby...honey...that was fucked up. I get where you were coming from with your severe PTSD but trying to blow everyone up is not the answer. But I do hate that he felt betrayed by Khem.

Hong: Look at my sheltered little man turn into a Bossman! I see good things in his future.

All the aunties and women in the show: Couldn't have done it without you and I love seeing all of you. Especially auntie who put the mean boss in his place while trying to feed the two newcomers. (Boss: Don't flirt with my woman! Auntie: I flirt with who I want to, go sit in the corner until you're repentant! Boss: Yes, ma'am).

And finally: Absolutely gorgeous set design and costumes. Like, super wow. Loved it all! It was interesting to see the crossover of Thai and western design, like Chatra's suit and cravat top/traditional pants combo at the end. Jarring, but I imagine that time period was jarring with all the different influences happening as well. Much like the differences in hairstyles which helped you identify Chinese descent from Thai descent (using the Queue hairstyle instead of fully or partially grown out hair).

Overall, solid job on Man Suang, I recommend it to anyone who is interested in new cultures, pretty people, and just an interesting storyline.

[flcgod]

𓏲  *   ( romee strijd, cis female, she/her, paris hilton + hailey bieber cc  )   ⸺   pictures of leonora elsabeth clemonte the twenty eight year old hotel heiress/model/media personality, have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to having an affair with another celebrity — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their christian dior saddle bag and pumps matched with jacquemus laurier dress, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more captivating than vain. their critics say that they’re more manipulative than benevolent when they aren’t too busy focusing on their blowdried bouncy hair, dewy skin, day drinking, impulsive shopping sprees, pretending to be busy to have a spa day instead of going out. reputation.com has taken to calling them london tipton in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ). 

*    ◟ stats .

full name : leonora elsabeth clemente nicknames : goes prominently as lena birthplace : monte carlo , monaco . current residence : manhattan , nyc . sexual orientation : heterosexual / heteroromantic nationality : dual ( both american & monégasque ) languages spoken : french (  fluent  ) , english ( fluent ) , italian ( basic )  occupation :  hotel heiress , model , media personality career claim : hailey bieber , paris hilton muse inspo :  serena van der woodsen ( gossip girl ) , gabrielle solis ( desperate housewives ) , lauren conrad ( laguna beach ) , elle woods ( legally blonde ) , allison hamilton ( the notebook ) , hanna marin ( pretty little liars ) , cher horowitz ( clueless ) , rachel green ( friends ) , tahani al jamil ( the good place ) positive traits : captivating , confident , loyal ,  passionate , coquettish , benevolent , affectionate, authentic &   courageous negative traits : manipulative , stubborn , vain , insecure , abrasive , possessive , hypocritical &  dramatic aesthetic : plumping lip gloss , dewy skin , blowdried bouncy hair , satin sheets , matte nail polish , binge watching romcoms whenever upset , day drinking , chanel eau tendre perfume sprayed at the nape of her neck , impulsive shopping sprees , counting the number of strokes while brushing hair every night , pretending to be busy with work to have a spa day instead of going out , rose petals scattered in a hot bath .

*    ◟ personality .

generally speaking ,  lena is a v captivating person . she can light up any room she walks into with her contagious smile  . most people would peg her for having a facade but tbh unless directly provoked she truly is nice ! 

due to her family’s surname  &  connections she pulled to start up her own skincare & haircare brand , lena gets a lot of hate. like A LOT. either it coming from other brand owners or simply the online haters , they all think she tries half as hard as the other women in the industry aka that she didn’t deserve what she has now  &  it definitely left a mark on her . only those who are actually close to her personally know how hard she actually works  &  the devotion , care and time she puts in her products .

when it  comes to her friends , she’s extremely loyal  &   9/10 times would do absolutely anything for them . like , you need a place to stay ?  you need money ?  you need someone to pick your drunk ass at 4am ?  she’s your girl . but at the same time if you did something like  EXTREMELY  bad to tarnish the love  &  care she has for you…. oh boy . let’s just say she can hold a grudge for years  &  is resentful as hell .

is extremely coquettish  &  a big attention ho™ .

loves beautiful things ( read: vain ) including herself !  you can catch her taking selfies everywhere she goes or spending lots of time pampering  &  showering herself with beautiful clothes , accessories  &  other  “ beauty accouterments “  that catch her eye .

deep down , she truly  wants to find that ridiculous , inconvenient , consuming , can’t-live-without-each-other love that her parents had . she’s the ultimate romantic  & won’t settle for less but in truth , she’s known for being flighty af ?   let’s just say that the only difference between her  &  taylor swift is that she doesn’t write songs about her exes lmao  &   can bounce quicker than you can blink if she sees  one  red flag .

overall lena really isn’t the type to casually date . like she wants to cook you dinner , snuggle , go on romantic trips , surprise you with your favorite things , be your best friend  &  hold your hand all the time not wait for 1.75 hours for a text back .

so in retrospect she seems like the perf gf to have, right ?  wellllllllll…. in most aspects , yes , because she would put you 1st for sure  &  probably slap a bitch in your name but…. she can also get extremely possessive  &  jealous .  it comes off small but the longer she’s with someone the more she gets like  “ why are you talking to her “  “ let me see your phone “  “ don’t you lie to me ! !  “  “ DARLING I’M A  NIGHTMARE DRESSED LIKE A DAYDREAM ! !  “  lord have mercy .

says she hates gossip but….. LOVES GOSSIP .

says she doesn’t manipulate people into getting things her way…. BUT DOES.

says she doesn’t have grudges but…. TENDS TO THEM LIKE LITTLE PETS.

says she’s not dramatic while throwing rose petals around , dressed in evening wear during the day , draping herself across the piano …. SHE’S DRAMATIC . 

says she’s dehydrated and….. HAS A GLASS OF CHAMPAGNE . 

　                    ˚ detailed biography  .  ˚ wanted connections  .   ˚ pinterest .    ˚ penthouse tour .  　

[ghostsontelevision]

i’ve been fucking around w a mob psycho 100 ageswap au. details under the cut

GENERAL PREMISE: mob & tome run a psychic business together, focus is on investigating supernatural phenomena. reigen is a shithead little kid who talked his way into becoming an employee, but they only really let him sweep the floors until he starts complaining, at which point he gets one (1) adventure per week.

MOB: because reigen wasn’t around to keep her from joining the telepathy club, she joined without protest or thought, but she and tome ended up getting along well enough that they became close friends. her egg cracked in high school, and she’s now a shy and withdrawn adult woman. doesn’t have as much of a sense of personal style, though if someone pays attention they might notice her tendency towards things with cute (& a little obnoxious) graphics. avoids using her psychic powers as much as possible because she never worked through her trauma regarding them, so every time she does use them they have a tendency to become really out of control. a pretty blunt sense of humor. she handles most of the “psychic” part of the job (so she does mind readings, future telling, and very basic exorcism), but most of this is “practice reading people”, something she still struggles with, and isn’t actually power based.

TOME: excitable and impulsive adult. worked a variety of shitty minimum wage cashier jobs until she snapped and begged mob to open the psychic business with her. her preference is field work, exploring haunted houses & investigating strange phenomena. has a strong (if occasionally incomprehensible) internet presence. a tendency to rope people into things without really asking if they’re okay with it, which she’s aware of and can occasionally feel guilty about. not a role model except for her zest for life. has never met aliens and desperately desperately wants to. still keeps in touch with the other telepathy club members, who have thrived in normal office jobs and don’t want to quit and join her shady ghost hunting business for some reason????

REIGEN: a middle schooler with a big mouth. unspeakably lonely, hates going home for some reason. has a tendency to bluff his way into situations and still miraculously bluff his way out. has a reputation in school as a loudmouth liar. very very good at reading people. wants to be special but has no clue how to accomplish this, and the concept of becoming an adult both frightens and bores him. wants to join the psychic business because he wants to become a fascinating and interesting person who people look up to, which flatters tome’s ego enough that she lets him “intern”. watches teru’s show and thinks he’s soooooo cool.

TERU: got in a fight with mob in middle school (again, mob didn’t have reigen to preach nonviolence so mob just kinda. wiped the floor with him lmao). teru holds the BIGGEST grudge about it and mob barely remembers it. nowadays, an incredibly popular tv psychic (haters will say its cgi) who is super popular with teenage girls and stay at home moms alike. because mob didn’t have her nonviolence rule, she wasn’t pushed to her breaking point and instead just one-hit KO’ed him, so he didn’t completely lose his dignity as a child, but he did take a hit to his ego and lost his middle school friends. he then rebuilt his following in high school, but also doesn’t really have friends, just lackeys.

RITSU: mob’s estranged brother. they never worked through their complexes regarding each other, so they grew apart and have barely spoken since they moved out of their parents’ place. now a successful office manager and utterly bored with life; going up the corporate ladder out of momentum if nothing else. allies with dimple out of boredom, and is actually more gung-ho about starting a cult than dimple is.

TOICHIROU: BABY TYRANT. runs salt middle school like it’s the fucking navy. aspirations of grandeur, wants to rule the world and frankly would do it tomorrow if he could. student council president, hand picked the rest of the student council (the rest of the super 5). uses psychic powers for intimidation

SERIZAWA: an anxious middle schooler who towers over everyone. his official title is “student council vice president”, his actual role is “hired muscle and toichirou’s yes-man” (yes-boy?). he considers the rest of the super 5 his friends, but doesn’t really know what friendship is. still has the umbrella. he and reigen end up becoming friends by accident, and reigen helps him break toichirou’s hold over him and basically enlists him into working for tome & mob.

DIMPLE: i’m gonna be real dimple is hard to ageswap because he’s like, 100 years old or whatever. so dimple is mostly unchanged, still running scams in an attempt to become god, which keeps not working out for him. this is his 100th attempt, and this time ritsu gets roped in - and might actually be better at running a cult than he is????

SHOU: toichirou’s HUMILIATING dad. maybe a little too lax about the whole “my son wants to rule the world” thing. also a powerful psychic, but only ever uses his powers to complete very mundane tasks, which toichirou views as a waste. unmarried, toichirou’s mom was a one-night-stand and has asked to be out of the picture, which shou is fine with. 

MOGAMI: world weary at the age of 14. former golden child. discovered he was a powerful psychic very young, and used this power to help others. however, this quickly turned into him being consistently taken advantage of, and after a particularly bad incident, he became jaded and withdrawn. has some kind of history w dimple (disrupted one of his cults a year or two ago?). also watches teru’s show and thinks he’s a fucking hack

[deliciouspirateangel]

ranting about pll os ss for longer than anyone cares to read <3

this show is so bad lasjfslkd. it is not a pretty little liars show. it wants to be scream the series or some other horror show so bad

what are the girls even lying about at this point?? they're not covering anything up. there are no hidden secrets snowballing into huge obstacles. the rapist's mom thinks they're liars but we know they arent

and i hate how besides tabby and imogen, none of the girls have relationships with one another. every episode is like. a scene of the five of them. then mouse with her boring boyfriend, faran with her boring boyfriend, tabby with her boring boyfriend, imogen with her boring boyfriend, noa with her boring boyfriend and weird not girlfriend. then a scene of the five of them again. its so disjointed

in all the episodes so far, i can think of ONE scene with a different pair interacting and its when imogen goes with faran instead of tabby to confront kelly, and it was for like thirty seconds in that last episode we just watched

also what is up with that girl noa is fooling around with?? like they have history, sure, but she is not worth this trouble. and why are all her friends so gung ho about it? do they not know she's literally cheating on her boyfriend? like hooray queer rep but girl. break up with your boyfriend or dont fool around with a girl on the sideee. especially not one thats gotten in trouble for breaking into two houses in the last like five days lmao bruh

i hate how tabby and faran look identical since they made faran stop straightening her hair. none of the girls have a distinct enough style to differentiate between them, and those two have the exact same skin color and hair texture and like. general build. hooray for diversity also but we cant get a darker skinned girl? a girl with braids? buzzed hair? or an extra short or extra tall girl or god forbid a fat girl? something so i can better tell who's who when they're running for their lives in the woods at night lmao

i also cant tell any of the boys apart cause 95% of them are white boys with brown hair but i care not at all about them at all sooo

imogen said that bloody rose looked like her mom but i think she was hallucinating again. it could be a twin thing but idk. they subverted the obvious "x twin dies but it was actually y twin" thing in s1 so maybe they'll subvert the "imogen's mom had a secret twin" thing that we're all expecting now? either way, they sure didnt feel like filming that scene and showing it to us

i also thought that scene where imogen grabs the ax to kill the power was so weird. i mean its not like i need to see her taking every single step in the process of walking over to the ax, picking it up, walking to the power thing, and swinging. but it still felt like an editing mistake or like some frames were missing lol

oh anyway i think bloody rose is kelly's mom but they'll try to subvert this by having kelly get attacked. but like she's a crazy religious nut and wants to cleanse the town of its sins and also that dog she had totally looked like one of the police dogs and her husband was a cop sooo. thats my guess

oh and i hate the character assassination of doctor sullivan and making her take the ezra fitz route by writing a book. that was just so weird and dumb and surely she would know better. maybe they realized they didnt really have any suspects so they tried to scrounge up a few really quick? idk man

[finnick-writes]

Hello, friends :) I am currently writing a historical lesbian romance fanfiction set in 1920s Dallas! if y’all wanna read the first chapter, i just finished it and its under the cut! hope you enjoy!!

———————————————

Chapter One

Dallas, Texas

October, 1925

She arrived on the back porch a week and a half after Ruthie disappeared. Mary fetched her mother and watched from the private parlor.

The girl told Mary’s mother through the screen door that Ruthie had been her great-aunt and had died of a bad stroke the Sunday before last on their way to church. “She’d had a few before that, we think, but this one was worse,” she said, her voice steady, but her hands wrung themselves like wet towels.

“Rejoice that heaven has gained another angel because grief has no place in the kingdom of God,” Mother said with that nunnish quality she and Mary’s grandmother shared. Though Mary’s grandfather, Poppa, was the preacher of the family, none of Grandmother’s conservative sternness had rubbed off on him in forty-nine years of marriage. Mother continued as she reached for an old paper bag in the pantry, “I just don’t know why you didn’t come sooner to tell us, and you’re quite lucky we haven’t found a new laundress yet.”

She gathered up the worst of the family’s clothes, mostly Mary’s little brother Robert’s, which had grass-stained knees and tree-climbing tears. Mary noticed that a pair of her ripped Sunday-best tights were dropped into the paper bag as well.

She watched Ruthie’s niece place the bag of clothes into Ruthie’s familiar old wagon, rusted so bad on three out of four wheels you could hear it squeal from Tennessee. Ruthie’s niece wore her hair short like a boy’s and that was how Mary justified liking her at first. She looked like a boy from afar, and of course, when I saw her through the screen door, my heart jumped in alarm. She was pretty, really pretty. Pretty as the one girl at my school who wore that sky blue linen skirt that matched her eyes. But this girl was black. Her skin was deep, and her cheekbones were high, the dim light of dawn glinting off them.

The new laundress never made eye contact with Mary, and she could hardly look at Mother either. When she had left, wagon squeaking away like a frightened mouse, Mother said, “She sounded like a liar. We might have to buy new clothes because I have my doubts she’ll return them at all.”

Then why did you give them to her? Mary wondered, but she said nothing. Arguing with her mother always ended in a switching or, worse, a lecture that lasted the entire day off and on whenever Mother found a second, third, fourth, or fifty-seventh wind.

She wandered upstairs to dress for school, ate breakfast, finished her morning chores, then began the walk to school. This particular October day was mild, and Robert complained he was hot in his uniform jacket the entire walk to school. Mary couldn’t tear her thoughts from the new laundress, and she leveled a glare at him. “Are you ever quiet? It’s Oc-to-ber,” she said. “It can’t be hot.”

“Yeah, but it is ho-ot,” Robert whined.

“Lord,” Mary muttered.

The school was an old ranch house stuffed in the middle of town. Out of place hardly described it. Surrounded by tall narrow brick houses, the ranch house sat squatly with yellowing wooden planks and warping window glass retrofitted a decade ago. Although it was old, the outside was washed, and the lawn was manicured even in its brown hibernation.

Mary and Robert split off in the entryway, Mary toward the secondary half, and Robert toward the primary. The amount of students in secondary school was half the amount in primary, so the secondary schoolteacher, Mrs. Flintlock, often helped Miss Sanford and Mrs. Buford settle the younger children. The boys who stayed through secondary school were not allowed in the room until Mrs. Flintlock was present to supervise, and today, they were lined up outside the room, which made the hallway a bottleneck. She tried not to touch any of them; they always smelled sweaty.

“The entire walk here Robert complained he was hot,” Mary muttered as she sat next to Eunice, her desk partner.

Eunice was rebraiding her hair, fretting over the frizz curling from the twists. “What?” she asked, not looking up.

“Robert. He’s annoying,” Mary said, plopping her satchel under the desk next to Eunice’s.

“Yes, little siblings often are.” She tied her satin ribbon into a bow around the end of her finished braid.

Mary stayed quiet, listening to the low murmur of the boys talking outside. The other three girls in the room sat at the extra long desk at the back, and Mary turned around to face them. Victoria, the girl who had the bluest eyes Mary had ever seen, smiled at her. “Good morning, Mary,” she said.

“Morning, Victoria,” Mary replied, her voice distant. That smile dripped sunshine through the room, burning through the dense drowsiness still leaden in her limbs. She smiled too, hoping she didn’t look as dopey as she felt.

John Tome stuck his head into the room, that obvious gleam in his eyes that he was about to torture his sister. “Hey, Tasha, use your witch powers to summon Miz Flintlock. We won’t burn you during lunch, if you do,” he said.

Groaning, Natasha shot a look at her brother. “I would like to make a case for my own burning,” she said. “Also, just a note for you, my sweet brother, if I was a witch, you would not have hands anymore. Or feet. Or eyes. If I could hoodoo you to China, I would.”

“Disemboweling might be a better torture for you. Least it’s slow and painful.”

“Slow and painful for you. Better cut my tongue out first, but I could still give you a baptism of cooties.”

A chorus of obnoxious teenage boy laughter crested through the hallway. “I’m gonna marry you, Tasha!” Edward Dunn shouted.

“I’ll eat you like a black widow,” Natasha said.

Unable to help herself, Mary laughed. She covered her smile with the back of her hand. The boys were cawing too like blackbirds at dusk.

“Settle down!” Mrs. Flintlock called, her voice like thunder in the middle of the night. It could wake the dead, booming forth without forewarning. “Get inside,” she snapped at the boys. “Go on now. In. Hurry.”

The boys filed in, slumping in their seats under the watchful beady eye of Mrs. Flintlock. She was a short but thin thing. Hardly delicate despite her size, she walked straighter than a lamppost, her spine rigid as her tight-lipped mouth. Her hair had grayed early, and she had let it, always tying it back in a long severe braid. As formidable a presence as she was, she seemed to direct most of her irritation towards the male half of the classroom.

When she taught only the girls in a small group, her face softened, and her eyes relaxed, no longer as watchful and narrow. She was a Yankee transplant, which everyone had immediately pinpointed because she didn’t stretch out her vowels or sew her words together in a gently nasally drawl. Her husband had dragged her out here after his return from the Great War, and she resented him for it.

This information had been relayed to Mary’s mother by First Baptist Church’s principal gossip, Mrs. Ruthie Jane Etherington, who had surely seen Jesus walk the earth given how ancient she was. Mother despised anyone north of West Virginia, and when Mrs. Flintlock had secured a job after Mrs. Gaus had passed away of fever halfway through Mary’s freshman year.

Mother had made it her business to find out just what Satanistic nonsense this Yankee woman would teach her children. “Honestly, what if she has the boys and girls intermingle? Sit next to each other? What then?” Mother had said to no one in particular on the buggy ride home from church.

“I suspect all hell will shake loose,” said Father.

Mary had ducked her head and puffed out her cheeks to contain her laughter. She could never tell when Father was serious, and she did not want to incur a spanking with the wooden spoon Mother was so fond of.

For all Mother’s fear of co-ed desk partners, her stubbornness was the only reason Mary and Robert were going to the same school. Not many schools in Dallas taught boys and girls together and Mother had wanted the same education for Mary as for Robert. “It doesn’t hurt the girl to know some damn math,” she had heard Mother say to Father one late night when she couldn't sleep. “She deserves to know science just as much as embroidery. The only thing those suffragists are right about is education in this country. It’s going to hell.”

Surprisingly, Father had not hit Mother that time for cursing. He didn’t say his usual, “Those words are meant for a man's mouth.” Instead, he sighed deeply and murmured something Mary had not caught.

The matter settled, Mary continued to go to the little ranch house. While the richer girls, the daughters of oil barons and bankers and mineral trust owners, went to finishing schools in Switzerland and London to learn the social graces, Mary wrote essays and did algebraic equations. To her mother’s horror, she was poor at mathematics and earned barely-passing grades. That wooden spoon had done little in improving her testing scores, but whatever made her mother feel better.

As Mrs. Flintlock lectured that cool October morning, Mary felt her mind drifting as usual. It drifted to Natasha who was surprisingly good at mathematics, and with the next test coming on Friday, Mary wondered if she could finally scrounge up enough nerve to ask Natasha for help. Something scared her about Natasha, but Natasha was perfectly nice to all the girls.

Then Mary’s mind drifted further. To the girl with Ruthie’s wagon. To the girl Mary thought was a boy. To the slow rise and fall of her chest, to the coils cut close to her head. To her boxy hips that all the girls in Vogue and Cosmopolitan. She imagined that girl in a bedazzled dress and flapper headband and brick red heels, dancing with a martini in her hand. Smiling at Mary. Gesturing for Mary to take her hand so they could dance. And dance and dance until summer twirled back into town.

[3675-blog1]

oh my fucking god i went to the op's blog on that post and my jaw was on the floor the whole time. they posted shit like "i don't condone what he did" and then reblogged posts saying they got attached to a fucking mass murderer. sometimes tumblr can be toxic w all its sicko niches.

its fucking gross i was hate reading thru the “tr*e crime commmunity” tag and people post fan fiction about these horrible people with the “insert y/n here” shit and they’re all mourning this guy’s life being like “he had so much potential” and it’s like no….. he didn’t….. he was a racist psychopath and now he’s gonna die good riddance……..

[neverinadream]

Keep Watching The Rain

Summary: Y/N loves to watch the rain.

Requested: Nope

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, cocky!christian, dom!christian, sub!reader, praise kink, fingering, semi-public (I guess) not proofread and a little bit shit but hey ho

Notes: it's currently raining, i'm bundled under a blanket as i write this, and this thought has been plaguing me since i woke up this morning

"It's pissing it down."

"It's what?"

Y/N pulls back the living room curtains to reveal herself, one finger pointing to the windows washed with rain drops. "It's pissing it down," she repeats, gazing over at her boyfriend, who lounged on their sofa, dressed in grey sweats.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious," he remarks sarcastically. A lazy chuckle falls from his lips when she rolls her eyes, ducking herself back behind the curtains. His eyes linger on the shadow of her figure, distracting him a little from the episode of Pretty Little Liars they were suppose to be watching. "What are you doing?" He asks, reaching for the TV remote and pressing pause.

Y/N doesn't answer, her attention fully on the storm happening outside. As a kid, her parents, if they weren't dragging her inside out of the rain, would often find her sitting at the window, watching intensely as the rain pelted the windows. She made silent bets on which rain drop would reach the bottom of the window, cheering when her little droplet had won. Even now as an adult she found herself in front of a window; she found it therapeutic to just sit and watch the rain.

"Babe?" Christian pulls back the curtain, letting his eyes wander for a second to her bum peeking out from under his t-shirt she wore. "Y/N," she jumps as she feels his hands rest on her waist, disappearing under the t-shirt, "what happened to us staying on the couch all day?" He rests his chin on her shoulder, turning his head inwards to kiss her cheek. "This was your idea, remember?"

"I already know who A is," she mumbles nonchalantly.

"You do?"

She nods her head, a small smile tugging in her lips as her chosen rain drop reaches the bottom of the window first. "Did you never just sit and watch the rain as a kid?" She asks, leaning back into him. He doesn't answer, just makes a humming sound. "I used to do it all the time." Y/N goes off on a tangent, Christian patiently listening to her as she tells him about how she imagined the droplets racing against each other; or how, if she could, would spend hours in the rain, jumping in muddy puddles and returning to the house with chattering teeth and spending the rest of the day bundled under blankets.

"You were a bit of a weird kid, weren't you?" Christian asks, kissing her cheek again.

"A little bit."

He gives off a soft laugh, peppering her cheek with more kisses, before letting his head fall back against her shoulder. "I guess it's kinda nice to watch the rain," he admits after a few seconds of the two of them standing in silence, listening and watching the rain.

"Right!?" Y/N grins excitedly. "It's calming too."

"I can think of something else that i can do to calm you," Christian suggests, a quick flash of a sudden idea popping into his head.

She twists her head to look at him, momentarily taking her eyes off the rain. "Like what?" She eyes him up suspiciously as a smirk slowly creeps onto his lips, tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Chris?"

"Just keep watching the rain."

Underneath her t-shirt, his right hand travels away from her waist, with Y/N becoming quickly aware of its intended destination. "The neighbours-"

"Let them look," Christian cuts her off, feeling his cock twitch in his grey sweats at the thought of a neighbour seeing them. A quiet whimper is pulled from her lips as his hand finds its way down the front of her underwear, his fingers brushing over her clit. They work in circular motions, slowly building up her pleasure. "Maybe they shouldn't be so nosey," his voice in her ear sends a shiver down her spine.

Her eyes dart to the windows of the houses facing their back garden, praying there isn't anyone watching them, but the rain was thick and heavy making it impossible to see.

"Christian," she whispers his name, biting her bottom lip. Her hand flies out to press against the window, steadying herself on her feet as he knees buckle in reaction to the first finger being eased into her. "Couldn't we be doing this on the sofa?" She asks, fingers curling against the cold glass.

"I thought you liked watching the rain?"

"I do, but-"

"Then be a good girl and watch the rain for me," he interrupts her, knowing she was probably rolling her eyes at him. His free hand leaves her waist, reaching above to brush her hair over her opposite shoulder. "I think you secretly like this; me touching you for any of our neighbours to see. Are you going to let the neighbours see you cum on my fingers?" He tugs at the collar of the t-shirt, pulling to the side to reveal her shoulder. "I mean," he mumbles into her, kissing her shoulder, "I know you do, because you're dripping baby." She sighs through her moan, biting her bottom lip harder as he sucks a hickey onto the base of her neck. "Come on now," he chuckles, just catching her reflection in window, "don't hold back on me."

She whimpers, her breath catching in the back of her throat when he eases in a second finger. Her bottom lips falls from between her teeth, quick sharp breaths given out as she finds herself leaning back from the window and against his chest. "You're torturous," she moans, digging her fingers into his arm, desperately trying to find something to grip onto.

"What's the matter? Am I going too slow for you?" Another dry laugh, more so like a snigger, emits from Christian, but to Y/N he was far too slow. He had her quickly teetering on the edge, just needing that little bit more to send her crashing down. "Say please," Christian orders her, squeezing his other hand down the front of her underwear. Her hips buck, desperate to feel his touch against her clit. She shudders as his lips brush against the shell of her ear. "Say please," he repeats his order.

"Please," Y/N blurts out at an embarrassing speed.

"Good girl."

His fingers pressing lightly against her clit, Y/N moaning as they work in conjunction to the two fingers that already had her at the brink of cumming. A grin pierces his lips, grunting in her ear when her walls clench around his fingers. His mind was stuck between teasing and edging her, to put on a show for any neighbour who was watching, or to give in and let her cum. He decided to play nice, after all, there was always next time.

"Are you going to cum for me?" Christian asks, flushing his chest against her back. She whimpers feeling the bulge in his grey sweats pressing against her bum. "Don't tell me no," he mumbles, kissing over the hickey had left on the base of her neck, "I know you want to. You want to, right?"

Her head nods for him, eyes squeezing shut and her thighs tensing as she tries not to buckle under her pleasure. A half strangled laugh escapes in reaction to how tightly she was clenching around his fingers as she begins to cum for him. "My beautiful girl," he praises her, peppering her neck with kisses, "thats it, be my good girl and cum for me."

She breathes his name in a single moan, her grip on his arm gradually relaxing as he helps to bring her down. A light whimper escapes when he pulls back his fingers, only left with the soft brushes of his fingertips against her clit to power her through the last bit of her high. "I really hope no one saw us," she finds the words to say, her brain still frazzled.

"I hope someone did," Christian replies, voicing the opposite. Y/N shakes her head, not sure if she should laugh at him or not. Both of his hands now sat on her waist, his lips pressing a couple more kisses to her neck, before resting his chin on her shoulder. "We should watch the rain together more often," he suggests, groaning as gives him a playful nudge with her elbow.

"You were barely watching the rain."

"Well," she yelps out of surprise as he spins her around, sliding his hands around to rest on the small of her back, "neither were you."

General tag list: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @weddingdisco @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @masonchilwell @1-800-benji-chilwell @kepaarrizabalaga1 @mrschilly @superjackgrealish @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @greykitkepa

[subbykboys]

new to this | taeyong

↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader

Genre ➞ pure smut oof

Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls

Word Count ➞ 8.3k

requested by @ninachocoo

posted ; 3.08.21

Hot. God, it was so hot. 

Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house). 

You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious. 

And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature, 

“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away. 

“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette. 

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.” 

“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly. 

He only rolled his eyes. 

“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch. 

Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—” 

Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark. 

“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment. 

“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face. 

You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt. 

Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today. 

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.” 

The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it. 

You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate. 

The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you. 

“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?” 

Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight. 

“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable. 

Oh, he’s cute. 

Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.” 

A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth. 

Really cute. 

Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.

“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”

“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.” 

Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.” 

“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room. 

“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!” 

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face 

the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.” 

“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair. 

With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind. 

Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra. 

He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that. 

… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that. 

But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not. 

“Ah— Mark?” 

The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?” 

“Where’s the bathroom?” 

He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.” 

None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived. 

Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room. 

But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.

Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door. 

Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door. 

Then he froze. 

He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened. 

But it didn’t. 

Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on. 

He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your 

breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.

It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial. 

“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction. 

He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to  turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t. 

The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting. 

“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!” 

Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him. 

By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato. 

Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.

But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you. 

Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating. 

Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids. 

He was doomed. 

And he still needed to pee. 

Damnit. 

It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans. 

Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place. 

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?” 

“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.” 

The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone. 

“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away. 

It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one. 

“Taeyong.” 

The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes. 

“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard. 

You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue. 

Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare. 

“Perfect. Then we can share.” 

The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath. 

“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. 

“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived. 

“Movie?” Haechan suggested. 

You perked. “I know a good one.” 

“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.” 

“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.” 

“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction. 

Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!” 

“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch. 

Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness. 

“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen. 

“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat. 

A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” 

A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now. 

The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised. 

Now, was not one of those times. 

Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position. 

The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers. 

You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face. 

Fuck, he’s too adorable. 

Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon. 

Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable. 

You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee. 

For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers. 

In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson. 

It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax. 

The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves. 

He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv. 

Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more. 

“Is this alright?” 

The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out. 

He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled. 

“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious. 

“I– I don’t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him. 

“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t. 

This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering. 

But even if it was— 

It felt too damn good. 

His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out. 

The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands. 

But shit was it tempting. 

His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him. 

He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight… 

Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap. 

“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain. 

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—” 

“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire. 

“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered. 

“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention. 

“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway. 

The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you. 

Really looking at you. 

With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins. 

“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face. 

“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.” 

The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head. 

“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied. 

“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.” 

“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.” 

You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?” 

A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him. 

The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip. 

God he’s adorable. 

His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely. 

“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?” 

His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened. 

Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent… 

“Have you ever been touched before?” 

He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs. 

You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen. 

“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh? 

You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.” 

“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.” 

Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Shivering, he offered a compliant nod. 

“Good boy.” 

He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...” 

Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable. 

Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm. 

It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on. 

There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn. 

“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples. 

“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.” 

He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you. 

“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?” 

Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside. 

“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds. 

But you weren’t finished yet. 

Not by a long shot. 

You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips. 

Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were. 

“O– oh—” 

“Is this alright?” 

He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…” 

You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” 

There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…” 

“Just?” 

Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. 

Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health… 

Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.” 

A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch. 

“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust. 

He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him. 

“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally. 

His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?” 

He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall. 

“Wanna feel it again?” 

The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.” 

It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that. 

You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible… 

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet. 

But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out. 

“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat. 

“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be. 

“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body. 

His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight. 

You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright. 

“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder. 

A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued. 

“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased. 

He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold. 

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?” 

“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.” 

You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.” 

His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles… 

But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room. 

“Uh… foods here.” 

Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans. 

“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck. 

You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed. 

“Oh, definitely.”

A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners? 

[stanlaurmila]

Camren in Camila’s albums [Romance’s Version]

1. Shameless

“It's been a secret for the longest time”

2. Living Proof

“The way your hands can shake me. Soft to the touch like, baby. Ooh, there's God in every move”

3. Should’ve said it

“I was crazy for you, all caught up and confused”

4. My Oh My

“A little bit older, a black leather jacket”

5. Señorita

6. Liar

“You're watching, I feel it”

“But what if you kiss me? And what if I like it? And no one sees it”

7. Bad Kind of Butterflies

“I know I said we were friends. And when I said that, I meant it (Swear I meant it). Somewhere between now and then it became more than just a friendship”

8. Easy

“You really, really know me, the future and the old me. All of the mazes and the madness in my mind”

9. Feel It Twice

“I wish you had felt how you're feeling two years ago” [...] “Can't imagine the pain that you feel when I kiss his face”

In my opinion “his” represents Matthew or Shawn, depending on when the song was written. But this song is addressed to Lauren.

“Because I felt it once, I can't feel it twice [...] Hurts me to tell you I don't feel the same”

The whole album is telling a story. The songs are placed CHRONOLOGICALLY in order to tell this story. That’s why, in my opinion, this whole song is a lie. Camila is lying 😭. She just wants to convince herself. One, because why did she call the song Feel It Twice instead of Can’t Feel It Twice ? Two because, Dream of You comes in

10. Dream of You

“And believe me, I'll love you always, always (Always)”

See !!!!! Camila says she can’t feel it twice but now here we are

11. Cry for Me

“See that pretty life in pictures. See her lips erasing me. You're so good to her, it's vicious. Yeah, she should be thanking me”

Laucy.

12. This Love

“Get out of my veins”

Camila sang “you’re in my veins” in Never Be the Same. It literally means she’s talking about the same person.

“If you need your space, then just walk away”

Also Lauren on Expectations: “Respect for my time, respect for my space”.

“You know how to fuck me up, then make it okay. I guess that's just your game, and I'm the one who gets played”

It could explain THIS:

Most importantly:

And then all of sudden:

13. Used to This

“But I could get used to this. The feelin' of your fingertips. The feelin' of another kiss […] I could get used to this (Seventeen when we started to fall, but we lost it all). I could get used to this (And I just can't believe it all), definitely”

Was she saying goodbye ? Idk, it feels like she was ending a chapter of her life, but the book is still open

Here for more

[vexsprompts]

♥️     𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐋𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬     [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]    ♥️

sentence starters inspired by lyrics from Ice Nine Kills’  album 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝟐: 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅 !! some lyrics have been slightly modified to be more usable. feel free to edit  &  add context to your needs . have fun !!  ♥️

██████████████████████████████████████████████████████

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

❝   Evil’s all the rage.  ❞ ❝   Sit back.  ❞ ❝   Psychos crave more shocking scenes.  ❞ ❝   Who cares if it bleeds.  ❞ ❝   Are you misunderstood?  ❞ ❝   Are you more bad than good?  ❞ ❝   Welcome to [Horrorwood].  ❞ ❝   Anyone would kill for a call back.  ❞ ❝   Everyone is just so fucking desperate.  ❞ ❝   We’re all insane.  ❞ ❝   This is not an act.  ❞

𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

❝   It’s underneath our skin.  ❞ ❝   No medicine can stop the bleeding.  ❞ ❝   We’re caught.  ❞ ❝   There’s a fever in the air.  ❞ ❝   It’s do or die.  ❞ ❝   Who will be spared?  ❞ ❝   Is it a crime to kill?  ❞ ❝   It’s too late.  ❞ ❝   Is it real or am I dreaming?  ❞ ❝   I won’t be forgiven.  ❞ ❝   The only peace is a place inside my mind.  ❞ ❝   All was well once upon a time.  ❞ ❝   The truth hits like a truck.  ❞

𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 & 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

❝   We’re back!  ❞ ❝   I’ll be watching over you.  ❞ ❝   I’m wide awake.  ❞ ❝   It’s time to play, motherfucker!  ❞ ❝   It’s a killing spree, bitch.  ❞ ❝   He’s gonna get you.  ❞ ❝   You won’t ever grow up.  ❞ ❝   This two-foot tall demonic doll will make you his bitch.  ❞ ❝   He’ll toy with you ‘til you die.  ❞ ❝   He’s labeled a liar.  ❞ ❝   The carnage continues!  ❞ ❝   Safety’s not guaranteed.  ❞ ❝   Assault & Batteries included.  ❞ ❝   Hidey-ho, bitch.  ❞ ❝   Evil comes in every size.  ❞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞

❝   Come on in.  ❞ ❝   We always have room to spare.  ❞ ❝   I must confess.  ❞ ❝   I’m so sick of cleaning up [her] mess.  ❞ ❝   I hope saying goodnight doesn’t mean saying goodbye.  ❞ ❝   We’re drowning together.  ❞ ❝   I’ll fix you something.  ❞ ❝   Careful not to cross the line.  ❞ ❝   We all go a little mad sometimes.  ❞ ❝   I can’t come clean.  ❞ ❝   You got caught.  ❞ ❝   You can’t escape the shower scene.  ❞ ❝   Can I help you, [sir]?  ❞

𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

❝   Let them rot.  ❞ ❝   Dead is better.  ❞ ❝   Eternal life awaits.  ❞ ❝   They’ll never know he’s missing.  ❞ ❝   It’s all my fault.  ❞ ❝   I’ll see you on the other side.  ❞ ❝   I'd kill to bring you back.  ❞ ❝   Don’t give up.  ❞ ❝   I’ll make this right.  ❞ ❝   They say time heals.  ❞ ❝   Spare me the eulogy.  ❞

𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐲

❝   Evil has taken up residence.  ❞ ❝   Become a solider.  ❞ ❝   Beat the game.  ❞ ❝   Are you listening?  ❞ ❝   It’s sickening.  ❞ ❝   Something is creeping in the dark.  ❞ ❝   There is no next level.  ❞ ❝   All access denied.  ❞ ❝   Ignorance is past-tense.  ❞ ❝   Game over.  ❞ ❝   You died.  ❞

𝐇𝐢𝐩 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝

❝   A killer complexion is often a great alibi.  ❞ ❝   I’m a pretty sick [guy].  ❞ ❝   It’s time to say goodbye.  ❞ ❝   To hell with good intentions.  ❞ ❝   You’ll find no escape.  ❞ ❝   Let me give you my card.  ❞ ❝   There is no real me.  ❞ ❝   I’ll kill them all.  ❞ ❝   I’ve crossed the line.  ❞ ❝   I don’t think I’m gonna get away with it this time.  ❞ ❝   This confession has meant nothing.  ❞

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤

❝   [He's] back in town.  ❞ ❝   You’re blushing.  ❞ ❝   You’ll be mine.  ❞ ❝   You’re in for one hell of a ride.  ❞ ❝   I’ve picked you.  ❞ ❝   They’ll need your dental records to identify you.  ❞ ❝   I’ll follow through.  ❞ ❝   [He’s] got a bone to pick.  ❞ ❝   I’ve crossed the line.  ❞ ❝   I don’t think I’m gonna get away with it this time.  ❞ ❝   This confession has meant nothing.  ❞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐱

❝   This is hell.  ❞ ❝   All hail your master.  ❞ ❝   Is it pleasure or pain?  ❞ ❝   Bow.  ❞ ❝   The puzzles in pieces again.  ❞ ❝   Don’t fear the answers.  ❞ ❝   They’ll tear your soul apart.  ❞ ❝   Say farewell.  ❞ ❝   Welcome to hell.  ❞

𝐅.𝐋.𝐘.

❝   We’re close to the end.  ❞ ❝   I’m thinking I spent my life learning to fly despite a constant descent.  ❞ ❝   I'm not playing God.  ❞ ❝   I’m raising the stakes.  ❞ ❝   Soon they’ll understand.  ❞ ❝   I’m not saying I’m worth saving.  ❞ ❝   I was born to fly.  ❞

𝐖𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐕𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

❝   Pack your bags.  ❞ ❝   Kiss your ass goodbye.  ❞ ❝   Nothing’s what it seems.  ❞ ❝   I paid to make you mine.  ❞ ❝   You’re not going home.  ❞ ❝   Fuck humanity.  ❞ ❝   Let me hear you squeal.  ❞ ❝   The fun has just begun.  ❞ ❝   You fell for the bait.  ❞ ❝   I’d make you my bitch.  ❞ ❝   What the fuck is this?  ❞ ❝   Where the fuck am I?  ❞ ❝   Please, I’ll pay you anything.  ❞ ❝   Please let me go.  ❞ ❝   It’s not about the money.  ❞ ❝   There are no survivors.  ❞

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡

❝   I felt the fatal touch of a forbidden lover.  ❞ ❝   Every single glance becomes an obsession.  ❞ ❝   Look in the mirror and you’ll understand.  ❞ ❝   Everything’s bittersweet when you’re the Candyman.  ❞ ❝   There’s nothing sweet about me.  ❞ ❝   I come to life in the most desolate places.  ❞ ❝   Cross the Book of The Dead off your reading list.  ❞ ❝   I’m always inside.  ❞ ❝   It’s your turn to die.  ❞ ❝   You’re stuck with me, honey, forever.  ❞ ❝   You’re hooked on me.  ❞

[robinasnyder]

Jason Todd/Red Hood Spotify Playlist

Loosely arranged in a custom order. This is the thing I've done today rather than write.

Glitter & Gold – Barns Courtney / Bad Kids – Lady Gaga / Boys Will Be Bugs – Cavetown / Caution – The Killers / Souvenir – Korn / Race You to The Bottom – New Medicine / The Devil Takes Care Of His Own – Band of Skulls / Runs in the Family – Amanda Palmer / Hey Ho – Tracy Grammar / Help Is On The Way – Rise Against / If I Die Young – The Band Perry / Make It Stop (September’s Children)­ – Rise Against / Face to the Floor – Chevelle / Face Down – The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus / Savior – Rise Against / The Bleeding – Five Finger Death Punch / Diamond Eyes (Boom-Lay Boom-Lay Boom) – Shinedown/ Graveyard – Halsey / Prisoner– Miley Cyrus (feat. Dua Lipa) / Land of the Living – Jonathan Young (feat. Judge & Jury) / Love Song – Korn / Gone Away – The Offspring / Helena – My Chemical Romance / Already Gone – Disturbed / bad guy – Billie Eilish (feat. Justin Bieber) / Cruel Man – Intwine / My Bones – The Pretty Reckless / ­No More – Disturbed / Liar – Korn / Dirty Little Secret – The All-American Rejects / Tell me Lies – The Black Keys / Watch You Burn – Disturbed / Blind Leading The Blind – Mumford & Sons / No Place in Heaven – MIKA / Land of Confusion – Dan Avidan, Super Guitar Bros / I’m Not Okay (I Promise) – My Chemical Romance / Never Enough – Five Finger Death Punch / Numb – Linkin Park / Gives You Hell – The All-American Rejects / Radioactive – Imagine Dragons / Unravel – Jonathan Young / Come Out and Play – The Offspring / Burn It Down – Five Finger Death Punch / Ordinary Man – Ozzy Osbourne (feat. Elton John) / Let The Bad Times Roll – The Offspring / Remember Everything – Five Finger Death Punch / Genghis Khan – Miike Snow / We Fight – Dashboard Confessional / Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been – Reliant K / John Wayne – Lady Gaga / Poetry by Dead Men – Sara Bareilles / Achilles Come Down – Gang of Youths / Little Lion Man – Mumford & Sons / King of Anything – Sara Bareilles / Life to Fix (Radio Edit) – The Record Company / Charming Mess – The Black Crowes / Bad Company – Five Finger Death Punch / Sinner’s Prayer – Lady Gaga / The Violence (Ghost Note Symphonies) – Rise Against / killing boys – Halsey / Walk Away – Five Finger Death Punch / I Hate Everything About You – Three Days Grace / Pieces – Sum 41 / Demons – Hayley Kiyoko / LIFE AFTER SALEM – Lil Nas X / The walker – Christine and the Queens / The Past is the Past – Brandy Clark (feat Lindsey Buckingham) / This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race – Fall Out Boy / Crazy – Gnarls Barkley / Renegade – Styx / Come As You Are – Nirvana / SING – My Chemical Romance / Thumbs – Sabrina Carpenter / Scars – Papa Roach / Shut Up and Let Me Go – The Ting Tings / abcdefu – GAYLE / Just Like You – Three Day’s Grace / Million Years Ago – Adele / I Miss You, Don’t Call Me – Alessia Cara / Good Riddance – Annapantsu, IdrysLTS / Just a Thought – Gnarls Barkley / Torn – Ednaswap / Dear Wormwood – The Oh Hellos / I’m Still Here (Jim’s Theme) – John Rzeznik / Drunk (And I Don’t Wanna Go Home) – Elle King (feat. Miranda Lambert) / Raising Hell – Kesha (feat. Big Freedia) / Death Before Dishonor – Five Finger Death Punch / Coming Undone – Korn / Needle In The Hay – Elliot Smith / I HATE EVERYBODY – Halsey / Good Guys – MIKA/ Coming Clean –Hilary Duff/ Who Cares? – Gnarls Barkley / Something Has to Change – The Japanese House / Love Song – Sara Bareilles / Under Pressure – Leslie Odom Jr. / Let You Down – Awa Ly / Pierre – Ryn Weaver / Fallen Angels ­– Black Veil Brides / Twisted Transistor – Korn / Night Running – Cage The Elephant (feat. Beck) / Hang Me Up To Dry – Cold Ward Kids / In The End – Black Veil Brides / Come Clean – Jackson Bengtsson, Josh Wildhorn / Still Breathing – Green Day / Shame – Elle King / My Last Whiskey Tears – Juliet Simms / Between My Teeth – Orla Gartland / Bad Ideas – Tessa Violet / Prayer Of The Refugee – Rise Against / Bound For The Floor – Local H / Tomorrow – MIKA / People, I’ve been sad – Christina and the Queens / Come Clean (remix 2005) – Hilary Duff, Chris Cox / Ghost – ZZ Ward / Choke – BONES UK / Man’s Man – Elle King / Paralyzer – Finger Eleven /

Complainer – Cold War Kids / Jason’s Song (Gave It Away) – Ariana Grande /

121 Songs, 7hr 21min

Pics From (x)(x)(x)(x)

This is a playlist I original made for me, which is why it's 7hrs long. Enjoy. :)

[pinky-the-elephant-room]

Don't tease me, Y/N

●AN: I wrote this because I was watching Don't tease me, Miss Nagatoro and I thought what if Bakugou was in Senpai's place and Tada you got this drabble.

●Warning: None! fluffy goodness Senpai Bakugou x Fem Kohai Reader

●●●●●●

An arm grabbed and prevented him from leaving.

“Huh? Which one of you assholes have a death wish,” Bakugou barked.

“Senpai!” And Y/N’s face popped in front of him.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

“Kyah! I love it when you yell at me. Do it again,” Y/N practically purred.

Bakugou gritted his teeth and pretended that his ears weren’t steaming. He grabbed and pushed her into a nearby empty classroom.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

With a Cheshire grin, she said, “Ho? What’s wrong, Sen-pa-i~ Don’t tell me you're embarrassed? The indestructible Dynamight affected by his little old kohai?”

“I’m not embarrassed I’m mad! Last time you grabbed my ass in the hallway, you fucking pervert!”

Y/N gasped dramatically and clutched her heart. “I wasn’t trying to touch your butt! I was trying to hold hands…”

She fluttered her eyes and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Besides I can’t help it. I like you. In fact, I’m pretty sure I lo-“

Bakugou immediately covered her mouth. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence!”

Instead of backing away like anyone else would, she just licked his hand. He quickly removed his hand and wiped it onto his pants.

“You’ve got a screw loose, don’t you?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you want me to finish that sentence?” She smirked suddenly and he knew he wasn’t going to like whatever she was about to say. “Unless you’re scared.”

He scoffed and replied, “Hah? What would I be scared of?”

“You’re scared that if I said those three little words then you wouldn’t be able to run away from me again.”

He slammed his hand down on a table. “I’m not scared of anything.”

She snorted and let out a laugh. “Liar. When I told you to kiss me, you screamed at me and told me to fuck off.”

“You asked me to do that in front of all those extras. What did you expect?”

Y/N came closer and fiddled with his uniform buttons. “I expected you to not be a coward.”

He let out a feral growl and pushed himself directly into her face.

“Hehe. You’re so cute when you get mad, Senpai.”

She was so annoying. There hasn’t been a day since he met the first year that she hadn’t gotten on his nerves. No matter what he did, Y/N would always find a way to get under his skin and tease him. Sure, Shitty Hair and Pikachu tried and got away with it. But rarely would a girl have the guts to do it. A girl that was younger than him.

“Fuck you.” He grabbed her close and kissed her.

Y/N let out a whimper at his roughness. He didn’t care maybe he should have. But he was just so angry. Day in and day out, she was a mouthy little chit. Never listening to a word he had to say.

Bakugou forced his hand to the back of her head to deepen the kiss, and she could only helplessly moan in return.

Maybe he did like her the way she was. But Y/N had the tendency to overstep her boundaries. It was only natural she got put in her place. It was a searing kiss, his intent to leave behind an imprint. So, Y/N would know exactly who’s in charge the next time she decides to act out.

“Who’s the coward now?” he said after separating himself from her delectable mouth.

It was hard to look away when she looked like that. A panting mess and school uniform utterly out of place. Her face looked astonished and so red that he thought she might be a few degrees away from a heat stroke.

“Senpai…” Bakugou felt his heartstrings tug at the soft, forlorn way she said his name.

“Yata! I knew you liked me,” she practically squealed. “You were just acting cool, but you’ve been head over heels in love all this time.”

Y/N just about skipped out of the classroom chanting, “Senpai loves me~ Senpai loves me!”

He sprinted after her quirk ablazing. “Oy dumbass! Get back here! I never said anything. You’re dead meat, you hear me?!”

[prodigalsonfanblog]

Thoughts on Prodigal Son 2.04

- The music is killing me... and so is Mr. David watching Martin, unimpressed

- “You’re so much more than that”

- I love Edrisa so much 😂

- Well it’s gonna be difficult to avoid Martin at Claremont, Ainsley

- Omg Malcolm’s face... and Ainsley is like 😁 and then Malcolm chugs his drink

- Oh shit, the rug pattern is triggering Ainsley

- “Play good cop, bad cop... predatory psychopath”

- “They hate you, don’t they?” “Definitely”

- Malcolm in group therapy with Martin and a bunch of criminals is everything I never thought I wanted

- Martin and Malcolm are both intentionally trying to piss each other off and it’s going spectularly

- Malcolm you little sneaky liar... that’s actually a good lie

- There’s a women’s ward??

- Are Malcolm and Dani... flirting?

- Oh ho boy, here we go

- Jesus fucking Christ

- ABSOLUTELY GREAT acting from Tom and Michael

- Is this the first time we’ve seen Malcolm and Martin in a fight with each other

- I can hear Michael’s accent more when he’s yelling

- Martin, you’re not going to get far

- Oh shit, he left him there - oh wait nvm

- OH HO BIG REVEAL TIME

- Jessica knew pretty much right away it was Ainsley

- No promo after the episode, or is that just my TV?

- But that was a HELL of an episode 😁

[quirklessthot]

kinktober: day 14 | cuckholding  [mirio + tamaki]

warnings: 18+, consensual cuckholding

word count: 1.6k

⤿  kinktober masterlist

“Are you sure about this, Mirio?” Tamaki asks shakily, feeling as though his heart’s about to beat right out of his chest.

“Of course I’m sure!” the energetic blond laughs, giving his friend a hardy smack on the back. “I want this birthday to be spectacular! You only turn twenty-five once, right?”

At the wide grin thrown your way you nod in agreement and place a hand on Tamaki’s shoulder. It’s fine, Tamaki. But we don’t have to if you don’t want.”

When Mirio had told you that he needed help with Tamaki’s birthday present, you were expecting to spend the day browsing online stores, not discuss fucking your boyfriend’s best friend. Needless to say, you were a bit apprehensive, but with Mirio’s insistence that he would be more than happy to go along with it, you realize that you’re not entirely opposed to the idea.

You’d hoped Mirio would have at least warmed Tamaki up to the idea instead of springing it on him like this, though…

“N-No! I want to!” he exclaims, eyes wide.

At the realization of how eager he sounds, Tamaki immediately begins to backtrack, face turning bright red. “I-I mean.. It’s… n-not. I’m…” He trails off, too embarrassed to keep up eye contact with you.

Mirio lets out a boisterous laugh. “Well then, let’s get this party started!” He jumps off of the bed the three of you are sitting on and goes to grab the nearby desk chair, pulling it close enough to the bed to get a good view. With a happy hum he takes a seat. “I’ll be over here if ya need anything!”

Shaking your head at your boyfriend’s silly enthusiasm, you turn back to Tamaki, who looks as though he’s about to bolt any second.

“Can you lie down for me, Tamaki?” you ask gently, giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile.

Still red up to the tips of his pointy ears, Tamaki nods jerkily and lies back, trying to make himself comfortable… on his best friend’s bed, getting ready to fuck his best friend’s girl… !

You lay a quick peck on Tamaki’s nose, bringing him out of his spiraling thoughts and back into the present.

He blinks up at you owlishly, just now noticing that you’re positioned over him, knees pressing into the bed on either side of his hips. “Sorry…” he mumbles.

“’S okay,” you reassure him with a small smile. “Still good?”

He nods again, looking a bit more relaxed. Satisfied with his answer, you lean back to take your shirt off. You can hear Tamaki’s breath hitch when you reach behind you to unhook your bra.

“Do you mind taking this off?” you ask, discarding your bra and tugging at the bottom of Tamaki’s shirt.

In a split second, the shirt is off and lying on the floor in a crumpled heap. After getting over the surprise at his sudden eagerness, you take a moment to admire him – lithe and slender, with wiry muscles jumping and twitching under unblemished, pale skin. Vastly different from the buff, tanned form of your boyfriend but no less pleasant to look at.

You can tell that Tamaki’s getting uneasy under your exploratory gaze; you can practically see the anxiety rolling off of him, head probably racing with negative thoughts about his body, especially in comparison to his friend’s.

“You’re very handsome, Tamaki,” you murmur, sliding both your hands up his chest and neck until they tangle in the mess of his indigo hair. It’s just as soft as it looks, and you find yourself compelled to comb your fingers through it. the action seems to calm him down a bit.

“…Really?”

“Yeah, really!” Mirio supplements from the sidelines. “She’s always telling me how cute you are. I think she has a crush on you!” he adds with a wink.

“Mirio!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “You promised you wouldn’t tell!”

You may have mentioned in passing once… maybe twice how attractive you think Tamaki is and Mirio takes it all in stride, either agreeing wholeheartedly with you or flat out teasing you until you have to shut him up with a kiss.

Tamaki takes hold of your wrists to gently tug your hands away.

“It’s ok… I think you’re cute too…” he mumbles, offering you a shy smile.

As if realizing what he just said, Tamaki’s eyes widen and he quickly turns to Mirio. “I-I mean, it’s not! I don’t—”

Mirio waves off his friend’s worries, grin wide and open. “I don’t blame you! She’s definitely a cutie!”

How did this get on you?! Wasn’t Tamaki the one who’s supposed to be getting all the attention?

Clearing your throat loudly to distract from the butterflies in your stomach from their words, you begin unbuttoning Tamaki’s pants. “I believe we’re in the middle of something…”

He allows you to tug them, along with his underwear, down and off, leaving him completely bare. His dick is, for lack of a better word, attractive. He’s not as girthy as Mirio, but he’s definitely longer, with a pretty flushed cockhead that’s already beading precum – and is apparently very sensitive. His hips jerk and he lets out a keening little whine at every pass of your fingers over the reddened glans.

After ridding yourself of your own pants, leaving you in a pair of skimpy panties (that Mirio lets out a low whistle at their reveal), you get yourself comfortable between Tamaki’s spread legs.

Mirio instantly perks up. “Oh-ho, so that’s what you’re starting with? You’re gonna love this, just lie back and relax buddy!”

You place a hand over your mouth to hide your smile. Mirio seems more excited about Tamaki’s dick getting sucked than Tamaki does.

With another verbal confirmation of Tamaki’s readiness, you lean down and place a small kiss to the tip, and his dick fives a responding twitch in your hand. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue against the throbbing vein running along the otherwise smooth underside. He lets out a gasping whine, body tensing, before melting back into the sheets with a low moan. You begin bobbing your head up and down, one hand fisted around the base to stroke the last few inches you can’t quite swallow down.

Moans and grunts are a constant stream past his parted lips as his thighs shake and twitch. With how timid and reserved Tamaki normally is, you’re kind of surprised that he’s so vocal in bed – not that you’re complaining, you’d be a liar if you said it isn’t a huge boost to your ego.

When Tamaki glances down to see you staring up at him with his dick between those soft, plush lips that he may or may not have daydreamed about, he nearly passes out.

“Don’t… don’t stare…” he mumbles shakily, resting an arm over his eyes so he won’t have to see the sly look he knows you’re giving him.

You slide off of Tamaki’s dick with a pop, absentmindedly licking your lips to look to the side to check up on your unusually quiet boyfriend. You see that Mirio is watching the scene before him with rapt attention, one hand slowly palming over the bulge in the front of his jeans. He might have refused to join in but at least he seems to be enjoying himself.

You turn back to Tamaki and make you way up his body. Leaning down to brush your lips against his ear, you mewl, “I want to feel you, Tamaki.” You arch your back to push your breasts against his chest. “Is that okay?”

Not trusting his voice, Tamaki just nods, slow and measured as if in a daze. He watches you with lidded eyes and parted lips as you tug your panties to the side with one hand and line him up to your center with the other. The feel of you, wet and warm, against the tip of his cock has Tamaki gasping and trembling under you. You slowly sink down, biting your lip and moaning at the unfamiliar stretch, until he’s bottomed out with your ass pressed snugly against his hips.

At the point, Mirio has unbuttoned his jeans to pull out his achingly heard cock, giving himself a few unhurried, deliberate strokes. “How does he feel?” Mirio asks breathlessly.

“So good,” you whine, splaying your hands on Tamaki’s chest as you grind down hard, humming in pleasure at the feeling of your clit rubbing against his pubic bone.

You start up a quick rhythm and Tamaki is content to allow you to take control, keeping his hands on your hips, eyes glued to your breasts as they bounce and sway. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you can feel yourself getting closer to your release with each stroke.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, moving your hand to rub at your clit.

“Me… too…” Tamaki grunts through gritted teeth.

With just a few strokes, you’re cumming, walls contracting around Tamaki, rocketing him off the edge. He just manages to pull you off of him before he can cum inside of you, the thick ropes landing instead on his stomach and chest.

From his position in his chair, you can see that Mirio’s head is hanging back and his hand is wrapped around his spent cock, toned stomach decorated white. Without looking up, he holds up his free hand to give you a thumbs up.

You look back to the pro hero underneath you, eyes drifted close, hair a mess, face sweaty and flushed with a blissful smile in place.

“Best birthday ever,” you hear Tamaki mumble to himself.

[cyberrat]

51st Batch Of Fics: 12th Fill

Endeavor/Hawks – Egg AU – Part 4 – cont B50F11 – embarrassment kink – Enji just needs to see it from the very beginning but it's so hard to ask for it...

---

It’s rare to find Hawks sitting peacefully in an armchair and minding his own business. It happens so rarely that it never fails to put Enji on edge, wondering wildly whether he has done something to upset Hawks or whether something has happened at work that left him depressed for some reason.

He watches him for a while. Hawks is curled up tight and idly playing with a tablet he has propped against his knees. He looks comfortable and calm and has done so for a good few hours now while Enji had been watching and debating on what to do about the whole situation.

Not Hawks’ serenity, per se, but the fact that this is now the perfect opportunity to approach him about the thing he has been thinking about for weeks. Only that he hasn’t got the first clue about how to do that without completely losing face.

“Big guy. What’re you glaring at me for?”

Enji inhales sharply through his nose and leans back. He had been staring intently at Hawks, leaning forward and clutching his knees. He clears his throat and unclenches his whole body slowly.

“I am not…” he peters out awkwardly. Hawks is just staring at him, one wild brow lifting. The fact that he’s not even acknowledging Enji’s weak attempt at diffusion is getting him hot under the collar already.

He stands up with a growl and stomps into the kitchen to get something to drink. By the time he comes back he is dismayed to find that Hawks has turned off the tablet and is just staring at him, waiting for Enji to say what must be very obviously on his mind.

He’s embarrassed and that immediately makes him defensive but… there’s really nothing to it, is there? Hawks is damn annoying on a good day and if he smells something fishy he can be dogged enough to drive Enji crazy.

He’s never been good about being subtle. At his height and breadth and with bright flames usually surrounding him, that is pretty much a given. So he decides to just get on with it. What can be the worst that could happen?

“Do you still got that toy,” he asks flat enough to not really be a question. It’s a stupid one at that, he’s been greeted by the sight of it every damn time he goes into the bedroom. Hawks has it standing in a little nest of towels right on the goddamn vanity as if it were some fancy decoration to be proud of.

Still, he plays dumb. Hawks seems intent on playing along. He blinks slowly.

“What toy?”

Enji grinds his teeth.

“That egg toy.”

His cheeks are getting hot even just saying the word ‘egg’. He is standing like an oaf in the middle of the living room, clutching a glass of water like a lifeline.

“OOoohhh that one,” Hawks says.

Enji can tell that he’s immediately caught on to what is happening. That twinkle in his eyes is absolutely devious even as he pretends to be a bit confused and unaware.

“Yeah, sure. Still got it. Why?”

Hawks is inspecting his nails, throwing Enji little glances every now and then.

This is… getting too ridiculous. Enji can feel a heat wave washing through his body that ends in his face probably lit up like a candle. He looks away, fingers tight enough around the glass to almost shatter it.

“Forget it,” he mutters. But of course Hawks wouldn’t just forget it. Of course he is now intrigued and so he practically catapults himself out of his seat to hop toward Enji like an unholy gremlin.

“Oh, I think I know why you’re so curious,” he croons, eyes practically glowing. “You want to see it, don’t you?”

Enji’s insides twist together into a tight fist. It is achy and makes him feel like he has bad digestion but it also gets him hot. He looks away, stoically staring into a corner of the room.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh ho ho ho,” Hawks chuckles low. He is pressing against Enji’s front, chin digging between his pectorals. “You’re a bad liar, Endeavor. You get so red when you do, you know that? Like a little boy. It’s adorable.”

Enji can feel his face scrunching up tight in an angry frown. Hawks lifts his hands and steps back a bit, though he does not look concerned. His eyes are heavy lidded and too intelligent for his own good.

Enji gets the feeling that he already knows perfectly well what is going on in his head. Maybe he’d known it for a few days now. Maybe him sitting so peacefully and playing on his tablet has been a ruse all along just to pull Enji out of hiding…

God, it’s so damn frustrating. He turns jerkily to go back into the kitchen and slam his glass of water down on the counter.

Hawks is creeping up behind him, not particularly cowed by his attitude.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he croons, thin arms curling around Enji’s hips. He flattens himself against his back, bony chin digging against his spine. “Though I gotta say it’s really cute. You get so easily flustered, Endeavor-san…”

He reaches up, hands cupping Enji’s pecs like he does so often. Often enough to make it almost comforting instead of embarrassing.

“You just gotta say it, you know. Do you really think I would judge? Huh? You know I’m down for everything. It’ll be so hot anyway… anything including you is.”

Enji rolls his eyes. He tries to gently elbow Hawks to the side, but he is sticking to him doggedly, fingers digging into the meat of his pecs.

“You know I’m up for all kinds of nasty shit,” Hawks continues, his voice sounding a bit hoarse now. And maybe desperate. He wants to hear Enji say something nasty so badly that it does make him feel a bit better. Like he’s not making a complete fool out of himself.

“I would…” he pauses a moment. The words are there but it is difficult to say them out loud and risk Hawks laughing about it. For a man so close to his fifties he really can’t take criticism of his kinks. It’s shameful. He inhales deeply and puts a hand over his eyes. “I would like to see you take that egg again.”

He can hear Hawks’ feathers rustle with excitement.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” he asks with a throaty voice, pressing, if possible, even closer to Endeavor. “I can do that… no problemo.”

Enji doesn’t take his hand off of his eyes but his muscles do start to relax.

“You sure about that? Are you even ready for it?” He remembers how absolutely destroyed Hawks’ hole had been the last time… he hadn’t seen it since, work keeping them on their toes for most of the time.

“Hmm… you’ll just have to see and find out, won’t you?” Hawks croons and finally steps back from Enji. “Come on, then. We don’t have anything better to do today, right? Shit, this is so exciting!”