#✧˖*°࿐ INBOX CALL // dealers choice. it ME. i am the DEALER.

[voidfell]

INBOX CALL mayhaps? Give this a like and I'll go through your prompts tag and send some things! Specify my muses OR yours cause picking both ways gives me wild anxiety.

#(I'm gonna go shower but like.) #(I don't often do inbox calls but they seem easier then starter calls) #✧˖*°࿐ INBOX CALL // dealers choice. it ME. i am the DEALER.

[iphoenixrising]

(6am/Prime Girl back to the super random chaos again haha) B A B E I serously caNNOT - I read your post about some AUs you’d like to get to and?? The Civillian CEO one literally spoke to my SOUL???? I’m just picturing Tim, fully aware of the Batfam’s identities (because he may have followed in his parents’ footsteps, but that didn’t stop him from his hobby when they were gone) starting to deal with some of this corruption, and then Dick and Jason are s o enraptured by Tim. Because this isn’t a Tim that is docile or subtle about anything.

As a CEO, Tim loses none of his sass or cleverness. When he sets his sights on someone, he does not hold back.

And his tech and detective skills would totally come into play, of course - after all, so much to dig up, so little time. (And those computer classes he took in Highschool and college? Absolutely paying off)

And Lucius would obviously stay with WE, but I can imagine Tam meeting Tim, this young, vigilant and untarnished CEO with so much to do and so many expectations, and rolling into the fray.

Tim, having grown up in these environments, knows how to wear his masks, to smile as he snatches information from tipsy gala-goers, to draw plans out of the elite of Gotham like it’s child’s play.

So maybe Dick and Jason see him at a gala one day. They’d known about him before, of course - but Tim Drake only became CEO about a month ago, so they were expecting the idealism to die sooner than later (like it does with most Gothamites)

However, they watch as he works the crowd, smile glinting in a way that verges on too-sweet and p, laughing as a mogul talks of some sort of Organisation they’ve set up involving the homeless, and -

The man is in prison the following week, charged with many counts of trafficking, and he’d miraculously ended up in a court that couldn’t be bribed -

Oh, yes, now they’re interested.

Anyways, so Tim starts running into Bruce’s wards a little more, of course. They try to be subtle about it, but Tim is very well aware of them and knows that he’s either being investigated or he’s some weird form of civilian city-cleanup entertainment (and wow, maybe he was flattering himself)

But they start wooing bit by bit, and our boys have maybe one combined subtle bone in their bodies, and Tim, here, has had so much practice with people that he realizes very quickly what their intentions are.

Instead of confronting them, though, which may lead to questions and turn them off from him (because they only wanted sweet but fierce normal CEO Tim - there’s no way they would want him as he is -) he decides that ‘hey, isn’t this an opportunity?’ And begins to help himself to their help.

Maybe it’s a file on some shady business dealer he’s left out ‘accidentally’ when they come over for coffee, or maybe it’s a hint here or there about a drug circulating on the down-low to a very specific group of people, or even notes on a cop he’d noticed a discrepancy with.

Dick and Jason are always so interested, after all, and Nightwing and Redhood are always so willing to help out a plain, ordinary CEO with his worries.

Everything could come to a head one day, however, when Tim might slip up somewhere due to lack of sleep and get caught in something. With little other choice he might call Dick or Jason and ask for help, and, well?

Wouldn’t they just find their little civilian detective so much more interesting?

(*coughcough* ANYWAYS - I hope you’re doing well!! Love love you and all your works, fren! I really hope I haven’t overstepped any bounds with this short thing inspired by your au, but I honestly just love your writing and this concept!! Many many hugs to you and kiddo!<333)

Prime Girl babe!

I was so happy when I saw your message in my fucking inbox and then, then, you bring this to my table? This buffet of clever, sassy, civilian Tim getting all kind of comfortable with hot vigilantes because he absolutely takes no shit when it comes to corporate bribery and corruption, is one of those CEOs that pretty much refuses a pay raise and puts it back into the company, that pushes for more than the standard 2% for his hard working employees, that makes sure they're donating to the right causes in Gotham, demands to see change whenever they support a cause? (The only reason the skate park keeps getting rebuilt after any number of shitty bad guys blows it up is because Tim can't stand the thought of a Gotham without one. Same for the several rec centers all over town.) And you, you, put this in front of me like an offering to the Gods of the Muse that Tim not only knows, but he takes perfect fucking advantage of it to use them strategically in bed and out to make sure the underground criminals, the blue collars, the corrupt politicians, cops, and judges, get their fucking due with minimal effort and no bodily harm in his future?

And like this idea isn't good enough by any stretch, but let's just have a nice CEO facing down one of Gotham's crime syndicates because he absolutely fucked up and he's done good things so this isn't a bad way to go–

When the skyline breaks in and a whole lot of pissed off vigilantes take the scene.

I'm not going to say the Red Hood isn't utterly vicious, or that one of his clips isn't rubber bullets. I'm not going to say Nightwing is banter-less once he sees how beat-up Tim is, the blood oozing from the cuts on his face, the deep bruising and swelling. I'm not going to say how merciless Robin is when he sees the usually clean cut CEO an utter exhausted mess.

Nor am I going to say how much they all coddle the fuck out of him for the next few weeks, stalk him in his office, his home, his commute to assure themselves he's okay, he's healing, he isn't in anyone else's hands–

except theirs.

#omg babe #this idea tho #winter rambles #because the muse is with babe on this one #civilian!tim

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Alright, time for an important update--

There’s going to be some changes going on with the blog and I’m excited to talk about them. I’ll give full detail beneath the cut. Before I get into it, though, I know not everyone’s gonna read this long post, so I  wanna let y’all know that my inbox is fully open again, so you can send in anons and chat with me and whatnot. 

Asks

Like I already said in my previous update, I turned off my anons due to the flood of nasty messages I’ve been getting. They’re all deleted now, and any new ones that come in will be deleted. I’m done with them. I will not answer them. If you send them to me, then you’re wasting everyone’s time. Do better. 

Themed nights + New kinds of posts

I’ve previously talked about my feelings for the current state of the character/ships/seasons/etc nights and how they’re not as fun for me as they used to be. While I will always love chatting with you guys and hearing your opinions, it’s grown a bit stale for me to make “It’s character night, y’all!” every Saturday since by now, we’ve covered just about every character, and the same goes for the ships. 

I wanna do something new, y’know? Have new discussions that aren’t just “I love this character they baby,” and bounce around new ideas. On top of that, there’s a couple new post types I’m introducing. 

Lemme start with Fridays. I’ve gotten a couple asks in the past asking me to do these Top 10/Top 5 lists that I’ve loved creating! It got me thinking that there are a lot of different lists I could create for fun, so why not do one once a week? 

T5F, as I’ll tag them. The first one’s ready on the queue to go up tomorrow, and it’s a fun one-- a more silly subject to start with, y’know? It was run to write up, and I had some help from my screenshot dealer @pi-creates​ to create them, and I’m excited to share it with you. :D

On Saturdays, we’re going to hold something I’m calling--

The basic idea is that I’m going to give you an AU in just one sentence-- no other details, nothing else at all. You guys will take this idea, expand upon it, and the we discuss. 

For example, this Saturday’s AU is going to be: “Aasim took over as leader after Marlon’s death.”

That’s it, that’s all I’m giving you. It’s up to you guys to come up with the details, send ‘em in, and we’ll expand on it together. Make sense? 

I’m excited to start this new... what, series? I guess it could be a series... a new series of themed nights. How about that? I have a long list of different AU’s, and hell if you can think of any, please feel free to send ‘em in! 

So, that’ll be replacing Saturday’s usual character night. As for Sunday’s usual ship night, that’s being removed entirely. I’m gonna be streaming every other Sunday morning, and in the afternoon, I wanna take that time to answer asks, work on fics and other posts, and work on my queue. So, I’ll still be active, but not for a themed night, y’know? 

Now, there’s another fun, more sillier post I’m gonna be doing every so often. I’ve always wanted to do something like this, and now that I’m doing new things, I’m saying “fuck it” and throwing it in.

Yeah, that’s right. Conspiracy theories about TWDG. 

Y’all have heard me talk about alien Luke, right? Well, that’ll be the first conspiracy that goes up, and others from then on will either come from my brain, from me searching around for the craziest theories, or submitted by you guys. 

Sometimes we take things so fucking seriously, y’know? Sometimes I wanna yeet everything out the window and rant about how there are actually two different Luke’s in S2 and one of them is an alien replacement. 

You got something crazier than alien Luke? Submit it and don’t leave out any details. 

-

Okay, so those are the three new things I’m introducing to the blog starting tomorrow. I’d like to know what you think! I hope you’re excited!

Stream Schedule

For those who watch the streams, I have the March schedule posted on my blog, and I wanna say a huge THANK YOU for your support of the streams. I love doing them, and I love talking to the chat. :D

You’ll notice I am doing a few extra streams outside of my usual Monday/Tuesday schedule. After doing the TFS all-day marathon, I realized that I actually liked streaming on Sunday mornings/noon. I figured that would be the perfect day to do some Death Road runs! Then on those two Fridays, I’m doing some one offs-- Little Hope [despair run] and Oxenfree. 

I’m doing a despair run of The Wolf Among Us, then we’re jumping into a playthrough of Fable III, a game that I haven’t touched in years but remember having a lot of fun with. It’s got a lot of choices, and as we all saw in the Yes, Your Grace, I am 100% fit to run my own kingdom, so what could go wrong? 

-

That’s all the new stuff I have to talk about. Now I’m gonna get mushy and say thanks for sticking around, even though TFS ended years ago. And thank you to those who are kind and decent without our twdg community, who have participated in past theme nights, and who send me asks watching to discuss twdg-- I appreciate every single one of you. I hope you enjoy the new things to come. ❤️❤️❤️

#update #new stuff's coming #changes are being made #it's gonna be a grand ol' time #:D

[crystalmarred-a]

INBOX CALL.          @fenixdown​​​  //  "You don't have to go." / dealers choice!

　⇢　thank you!

“Are you quite sure? I would hate to disturb you... Jade, was it?”

Certainly, he had only desired a place to read, but the tables were all very much occupied by other Scions having their dinner, with Jade the only one sitting apart from the other packed tables. 

“I... would quite like to get to know you better, given our mutual affiliation with the Scions, though you needn’t indulge me, much less allow me to sit with you. I am capable of finding another spot, should you wish to remain by yourself,” he says. Though desperately hoping to make the acquaintance of another comrade, it wouldn’t phase him to venture forth and find a tree to perch in while he reads.

#✧ ▌ in character : the crystal exarch. #fenixdown #ooc. // i picked jade cause i have had no interaction with him thus far so!! wasn't sure if you liked to drop him on the first in shb tho

[atmilliways]

M, A for Stuck on the Outside Failing to Look In (Just Like in Real Life), K, E for that one fic your wrote on LJ where Toki and Skwis both wind up in the hospital after hooking up too much because *I* want it, C, H, A again for All is Calm, All is Dark, R, L, E for Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner, S, N, N again, A again for A Murder of Two, T, H, A again DEALER'S CHOICE, N a third time, K, I, and two S's.

“Make Charles n Nathan kiss.” 

Have done, can do, will do! And kudos for making me go back to LiveJournal for a fic I hadn’t even planed on moving over to Ao3 because I was worried it was too dramatic. 

(Fanfic Ask Meme) 

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Hm, what have I not already blabbed about… Oh, you’ll like this. I’ve semi started working on a preklok fic where Nathan and Skwisgaar share an apartment and it’s an absolute sty, so Nathan gets some homeless kid to clean it in exchange for food and use of their shower. Enter Toki. Cue eventual threesome. 

Eventually once Magnus is kicked out of the band they’re going to conspire to “hold auditions” for the rhythm guitar part but have Toki show up late and blow everyone else out of the water while they pretend to be surprised.

A: How did you come up with the title to Stuck on the Outside Failing to Look In (Just Like in Real Life)?

A lot of the Skwistok I write tends to feature both of them being idiots who aren’t good at communication. Like in that fixed you wanted me to pull a slide your house where they both end up in the hospital for stupidity related. Stuck on the Outside is the most reflective of that, title-wise. 

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

In terms of drawn out angst? Take Me To Church. Nine chapters plus a prologue and epilogue of Charles scrambling to figure out what is even happening, and the learning curve is not kind to him. 

E: If you wrote a sequel to that one fic your wrote on LJ where Toki and Skwis both wind up in the hospital after hooking up too much because I want it, what would it be about? 

After they’re both released from the hospital, they continue to Not Talk About It until cornered by the rest of the band. When asked why they were gone for so long Skwisgaar has an aneurism-like idea and just blurts out “Guitars!!” So they haphazardly cobble together an excuse about how they’ve been doing a lot of “extra practice sessions” to get Toki up to speed on some of his trickier parts.

Basically, they hash out an agreement for their “extra practice session” relationship with Nathan, Pickles, and Murderface not only listening, but chiming in with helpful shit like “Yeah Skwisgaar you make sure he gets all the extra practice he needs!!” 

C: What character do you identify with the most?

Nathan. I guess because he’s kind of the most “omfg can we just get shit done” of the group while also being such a perfectionist to the point of “nope, not good enough, start all over again from scratch and get it right motherfucker.” I can relate to both of those things. And he strikes me as such a Taurus (stubborn as hell, bull in a china shop, etc), which I also am, so there’s that too. 

H: How would you describe your style?

I wouldn’t, because it’s hard. 

A: How did you come up with the title to All is Calm, All is Dark? 

Don’t quote me on this, I’m only the author or whatever, but I think I wrote it or titled it or something over the holidays one year as a fluff present for a friend. The title is based on a line from Silent Night, but I changed “bright” to “dark” because Charles needs a dim, quiet space to relax and recharge. 

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Robin McKinley, and… a lot more. I’m basically a sponge. In high school, while we were reading Grapes of Wrath in lit class, I wrote a story in my creative writing class that was kind of fantasy, kind of magical realism, but depressingly paced like that one chapter where the fucking turtle crosses the fucking road, thank you John fucking Steinbeck. 

Also a million billion fanfic writers across five or six different fandoms. 

L: What’s the weirdest AU you’ve ever come up with?

Personally, I consider coming up with a headcanon for a Metalocalypse Fraiser AU pretty weird on the grounds that it’s obscure, and I’m still amazed that enough people both knew what I was talking about and felt moved to make “oh my god you did it” comments. 

E: If you wrote a sequel to Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner, what would it be about? 

Hm. Well, because I originally intended for it to be a Nathan/Charles story and it just sort of, uh, veered off on a different course there… So the sequel would probably be something like Nathan, Skwisgaar, and Toki still casually hooking up occasionally, but outside of those threesomes it’s basically just Skwistok. After a while of this, Skwisgaar starts teasing Nathan that Charles has a crush on him, and then Toki joins in, and then they start asking Charles “subtle” questions to try and suss out if it’s true, and it is. Meanwhile, Nathan’s still going through his “huh, I guess I’m bi then, okay… huh” thing and convinced that this crush rumor is bullshit. 

Eventually the conspiring Scandinavians get those two crazy kids together, and make Charles a badly spelled Welcome To Our Threesome banner that absolutely does not leave the room intact. 

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

I love doing missing scene/behind the scenes stuff. Like, you know, basically all of Take Me To Church. It’s such a challenge to on one hand know in my heart that Charles and Nathan are meant to be, but on the other not actually deviate from any established canon. 

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Yeah, somebody write that sequel I described for Nobody Puts Baby In A Corner. You have my blessing. Title it, I Carried A Watermelon Named Nathan. 

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Someone write B.A.N.D.M.A.T.E.S for me. I mean, I’m gonna, but I have stuff going on at the moment and I want to read it now. 

A: How did you come up with the title to A Murder of Two?

A murder is a group of crows. There’s a Counting Crows song called A Murder of One, which is also where I got the idea for my murderofonerose screen name. (Rose is my middle name and it was back when I was still being dramatic about being single.) 

So considering the rest of the band was killed by black birds, crows seemed fitting. And the whole “he’ll always have Charles” thing. They’ll stick together, their own little murder of two. 

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

Rapefic. I’ll just casually refrain from reading that, nbd. 

H: How would you describe your style?

Okay, whatever, I’ll do it, fine. 

Very character driven. Always has been, even before I discovered fanfiction, because creating and/or developing characters is my favorite part. Buuuut it means I’m sometimes lacking in setting and plot… It’s a constant struggle. I’ve also always had kind of a thing for unreliable narrators — or not unreliable exactly, it’s not like they’re intentionally lying to do, but just you get most things filtered through their personal biases. That’s why I want Take Me To Church to have a companion story from Nathan’s point of view, so I can beat y’all with the dead horse that is everything that has flown over Charles’ head due to low emotional intelligence. 

A: How did you come up with the title to DEALER’S CHOICE?

I know this is payback, but is anyone else starting to think that Dealer’s Choice would make a great fic title? And then the answer to this question would be, “Well this one time I was being an absolute madwoman/maniac and spammed a couple people’s inbox with lettered ask memes that doubled as a secret message because I’m a smartass. Blame my family for being awful at actual conversations and emotional support but superb at puns and one-liners. Anyway, one thing lead to another and they got me back, but I continued to be a smartass and used this as a title so I could continue to tell this story about singlehandedly revolutionizing the ask meme industry.“ 

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Yeah, there is, a sequel to Stay Alive. *mic drop* 

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

In terms of “oh, that’s… not good…” feels? I think it’s He Came Back (Wrong). Nathan definitely has feelings for Charles, confused and complicated as they are, but if he’s not quite the same person anymore then how is anything ever going to get resolved? 

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

Mainlining ridiculously long fics from start to finish, but they have to be complete and they have to really grab me. I have done this a few times since college and it’s simultaneously always worth it and always a Bad Idea. 

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Confessions of Feelings while drunk and/or high. 

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Fuck or Die. I mean, constructing the situation alone is impressive, because how often does that sort of thing even crop up.

#jean rambles #my fic #my fanfic

[thrashff]

Commercial Break

Title: Commercial Break

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (P.A. AU)

(You can check out the first chapter of P.A. here!)

Word Count: 7,000~

Synopsis: You and Min Yoongi have been best friends since you were kids, and freshman year of college finds him camping out in your tiny apartment, working on his demo as you work and go to classes. Maybe it’s the heat, but you start talking about regrets, and how he wants to take away one of yours.

A/N: I’m not even done with P.A. but BestFriend!Yoongi was killing me and swerving my bias! *sobs* I couldn’t help myself! Their banter pretty much writes itself, and I really love Soft! and DirtyTalking!Yoongi. My first attempt at smut in a very long time, so comments would be appreciated. My inbox is open for requests! Please enjoy!

It’s a hot summer evening that finds you sprawled on the floor of your tiny dorm room, slowly melting into the floor, lost in your thoughts as your eyes follow the rotations of the ceiling fan above you.

“Yah,” Yoongi, your best friend since childhood, complains, stepping out of the shower in just his boxers, running a towel through his hair and startling you into losing count. “How is it possible that I just got out of the bath and I’m already sweating? The sun isn’t even out anymore and it still feels like noon!”

You brush off your annoyance and start again. “We’re going to die,” you sigh.

You see him move from the corner of your eye as he takes a seat on the floor next to you. “What are you doing on the floor? You look like a corpse.”

“I wish I was. Now be quiet, I’m trying to absorb the coolness of the earth,” you respond.

“This room is on the fifth floor,” he points out.

“Close enough,” you mutter.

“Also, the core of the earth is actually, like, scorching hot, so what you’re doing is counterproductive,” he says, sounding like a total swot.

You growl and glance at him, an insult on the tip of your tongue, but instead you smack him in the knee, shielding your eyes with the back of your other hand. “For fuck’s sake, Yoongs, put on a shirt! Your whiteness is blinding!”

“It’s too hot to wear a shirt,” he complains, leaning back on his arms. The action causes the muscles of his torso to flex, showing off his collarbone, and you groan at the sight and rub your face. You love him like a brother, you really do, but you hate when he walks around the apartment like this. It had been getting harder and harder for you to mediate the little boy you knew to the man you were suddenly seeing, and it was making you uncomfortable.

“What time are you going to cook dinner?” he asks.

“There’s instant noodles in the cupboard and leftover pizza in the fridge. Take your pick,” you tell him, waving a hand towards your tiny kitchen.

He kicks you in the leg. “It’s too hot for noodles. I want real food,” he whines.

You sit up and glare at him, blowing the fringe out of your face and failing because your hair is stuck to your sweaty forehead. “We’re too broke for real food, Yoongs. Eat what’s here or starve, dealer’s choice.”

He sighs. “This is pathetic. I don’t know how things got so bad.” He tosses his head back, closing his eyes. “Everything after high school was supposed to be fun, you know? Not you and me starving in a tiny dorm room.”

You reach out and touch his knee, rubbing small circles into it to comfort him. “It hasn’t even been a year since we left, Yoong. Things will get better, you’ll see.”

He blinks at you, expression, as usual, completely blank. “I know, I know. I just… I wish things were different.”

“Low is the man who knows not how great a gift the present is,” you reprimand, wagging your finger at him.

“Who said that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“The great and powerful me,” you grin. At his poker face, you let out a noise of complaint. “Oh come on, Yoongs. Regrets, wishing shit was different. It doesn’t change anything.” With anyone else, this choice of conversation would alarm you, but you’re so used to his moodiness and his brain’s ability to jump from one thing to another without preamble that almost nothing strikes you as weird anymore.

“So no matter what we could have done, we would still end up here, sweating to death, poor as dirt?” he says sarcastically.

“Yes, but at least we’re young and beautiful. Our corpses will be the envy of all the other dead.”

He laughs and kicks at your leg playfully again. “You are such a ray of fucking sunshine.”

“Speaking of sunshine, turn off the lights will you? I feel like it’s just making the room hotter,”

Yoongi stands to comply, and you move to sit on the double bed you share, thumbing through your phone. He joins you, using the light of your phone to navigate through your shared and extremely cluttered space, before flopping against the pillows and reaching out to draw random patterns on your back. “Whatcha doin?” he sing-songs lazily.

“AHA!” you exclaim in triumph, finally choosing a playlist. Tycho filters through the speakers by your bedside, and you toss your phone aside. With your screen off, the only source of light left is the ambient light of the city outside. “See, doesn’t the room feel colder already?”

Yoongi seems to consider it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. The lights helped.”

You smirk at him even though you can barely see his face in the dim, thinking that having the lights off served the double purpose of cooling the room and sparing you from having to look at him half-naked. You scuttle over until you’re next to him on the bed. You bully a pillow away from him and lie back, your shoulders pressed together but still careful not to get too close to him because of the heat.

“Hey Yoongs, what’s your biggest fear?”

“This. Right here, right now, being stuck in this room with you for the rest of our meaningless lives,” he deadpans, and you nudge him in the shoulder.

“You’re no fun. C’mon, indulge me.”

“You are so weird. Are you on your period?” You punch him in the arm, and he yelps and reaches up to massage the spot. “Oh, sorry, that’s right, you’re a fucking sociopath even when you’re not on it, getting off on people’s fear and shit. My mistake.”

You sigh. “I hate you,” you mutter, shifting to your side to face him, squinting your eyes to adjust to the lack of light. “It’s just… I was in psych class this morning and we were discussing how people reveal their true selves during situations of extreme duress. Like, during a terrorist attack, for example.” At this point, Yoongi turns and faces you, folding an arm under his head. You chew on your lip for a moment before you continue. “Some people stand up and fight, while other people crumble. Some people revel in the chaos, and others band together.

“I was just wondering how I would react in that situation, is all. Like, in a situation where I’m scared to death. If I would fight or flee.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi says quietly, and you look up to meet his eyes, obsidian orbs oddly luminous in the half-light. “You’ve been in situations that have scared you to death. I think you’ve safely proven that you would fight,”

You let out an incoherent grumble at his words. “That’s different. What happened was an accident. I’m talking about, I dunno, a situation that’s someone else’s fault. Like, if you were stuck on a plane that’s about to crash or something.”

“Has the heat gotten to your head?” he asks seriously, leaning over and pressing a hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

“Blame something else for the way I am, Min Yoongi. I dare you,” you growl. You smile with satisfaction when he rolls his eyes and pulls his hand away.

“I just don’t get the difference, Y/N,” he insists, shaking his head at you. “Your accident was also out of your control. But okay,” he sighs. “I’ll play. If I were stuck on a plane that’s about to crash… well, there’s really nothing I could do, right? I’d probably jump out. At least that way I die on my own terms, and not in fear.”

You nod, accepting his answer. “Would you wanna call anyone one last time?”

“I’d call my mom and dad. Talk to Min Holy.”

You laugh and nudge him in the shoulder. “You would spend your last call listening to your dog bark?”

He chuckles. “Hey, you asked and that’s my answer. Who would you call?”

“You, probably,” you admit. “My parents would be fine, you know? They’d get over my death.”

He leans over and starts to poke you hard in the ribs. “And you think I wouldn’t, huh? You think you’re that important to me, you punk?”

“No,” you laugh, slapping his hands away. You finally grab his wrist and hold it tightly, pinning it against your side. “No, you idiot. I just meant, well, I wouldn’t want you to be sad, that’s all. Hearing your voice would make me brave. Help me prepare for the inevitable.”

He hums, considering your answer. “Would you have any regrets?” he asks you.

“Wow, you’re really stuck on this regret stuff, aren’t you?”

He makes a face. “No. I mean, yeah. I guess.”

“Are you regretting leaving home?” you prod gently, voice low.

He shakes his head almost automatically. “No, not at all. I just, I wonder if I should have gone to school like you. Gone for the whole shebang: class, friends, parties. All that normal crap.”

“Instead you’re stuck living with me off instant noodles. I can see where you feel like your life has gone terribly wrong,” you comment dryly, and he pinches your waist with the hand that’s pinned to your side.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he accuses. “But sometimes I see you and I get jealous,” he admits, an edge to his voice you haven’t heard very often. “I wonder what it would feel like to be normal, to want something other than music. Like, who I would be if I didn’t have this fucking need to make music, to make it big.”

“You’re too smart for school; it would bore the life out of you,” you tell him adamantly. “Besides, normal is different from mediocre, which is everything you’re not. Whatever the circumstances, you’d still be Min Yoongi. I think that’s the great part about it. That you get to choose to be this version of yourself.”

“I guess,” he relents. “How about you?” He taps you with the hand now wrapped around your ribs, and the action makes you feel smaller for some reason. “Any regrets? Like taking me in and letting me mooch off you?”

“Of course not,” you snap, glaring at him. “I would have gone crazy by now if you weren’t here.”

“Cute,” he complains, scrunching his nose at you.

You sigh, pushing your face into your pillow. “I guess my only regret is losing it to my ex.”

“Ah, He Who Must Not Be Named,” he nods sagely.

“He isn’t Lord Voldemort,” you laugh.

“He’s evil, isn’t he?” he counters.

You bite your lip. “It wasn’t that. It’s just… girls are different, okay? We dream about our first times, how we hope it will be. I know romance is a foreign concept to you, but it does exist for other people.”

“Ro…man…ce?” Yoongi repeats, pitching his voice around to sound dumb. “Like, people from Rome?” You punch him in the chest, and he laughs. “Okay, okay. Romance, as in not the ancient civilization. What, like candle light and rose petals and shit?”

You shake your head, starting to get annoyed. “Why am I not surprised,” you mutter under your breath. “I’m talking about romance to someone whose first kiss was behind the dumpsters at school.”

“Hey!” he exclaims defensively. “She kissed me. I wanted something better for my first kiss too, you know!”

You giggle and pat him on the arm soothingly. “Okay, mister, whatever you say.”

“So…” he ventures after a few moments of silence. “How would you have wanted your first time to be like?”

You shrug. “No candles, because that’s a fire hazard, and rose petals would be weird. Like, what if they get into the wrong places?”

“Do you take nothing seriously?” he complains.

“Not even life,” you counter with a grin, and he nudges you again. “Okay, fine. I guess to just feel like the person actually cared about me, you know?”

He looks like he’s mulling this over in his head. “Did you, you know…?”

“Cum?” you blurt out, and to your surprise you see his neck flush.

“Yeah,” he admits, his voice sounding like he’s gotten something stuck in his throat.

You shake your head slowly. “It was so painful,” you confess. “I kind of just wanted it to end.”

“That’s depressing,” he says dryly. “He was a dick. I know you’ve heard this from me before but I do wish you had picked someone better. I would have wanted you to have good memories, you know? It’s a big deal.” He glances at you, then clears his throat and adds, “To some people. I guess.”

“Like you?” you hedge, and his ears turn red. “Who would you want your first time to be with?” you prod, swallowing your laughter.

He flips onto his back and stares at the ceiling, pulling his hand away from you. For a second you mourn the loss of the comfortable weight on your body and your brow furrows, but you banish the thought. All this talk about sex was just getting to you, you tell yourself.

“I don’t know. I think I’d want it to be with someone who genuinely cares about me, too. You know me, Y/N. I’d probably say and do all the wrong things afterwards, probably even during, so it would be nice if she didn’t stress me out about it. Someone who knows me well enough to understand how I am, and that I’m not good at expressing my feelings. It’s like, I shouldn’t have to constantly tell someone I love them. Isn’t once enough?”

“Careful, Yoongs, your dysfunction is showing,” you tease.

He glances at you and then rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he mutters sullenly. “Sex is a natural thing. You should be comfortable with the person you’re doing it with—not self-conscious or insecure.”

You nod your agreement.

“I’d want it to be with someone who’s a friend first instead of a lover,” he concludes, finding the right words.

“What, like me?” you joke, and instantly regret the words coming out of your mouth as his shoulders stiffen next to you. You smack yourself mentally.

“Yeah,” he finally says. “Why not? I could do worse.”

At that, you sit up and grab the pillow you’re lying on to hit him in the face with it. “Excuse me, you should be so lucky!” you yell.

He laughs and grabs the pillow away from you, tucking it under his head. “Why are you so violent?” he demands. “Do you get off on hitting me?”

You huff and flop back down on the mattress, pillow-less, your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Because you’re an idiot and I’m the only one who keeps you in check. Everyone else might be too scared of you, Yoongi, but not me.”

“Really?” He props himself up on one elbow and looms over you, smirking. “You aren’t scared of me at all?”

You thrust your jaw out petulantly, meeting his gaze with a steely one of your own. “You’re as scrawny as a twig and you’re the color of snow. Tell me, who would be scared of that?” you say, poking a finger at him.

He gestures down at his shirtless torso, and you blush at the sight of his toned chest and abs. “Really? Judging by how red your face is, it looks like this does intimidate you, just a little.”

You reach out and push him hard in the shoulder, shoving his face away from yours, and he cackles. “And here I was, about to agree with you about losing your virginity to a friend!” you sigh dramatically. “Our first agreement, Yoongi. It would have been a milestone! You had to go and nip it in the bud with your big fat mo-”

The big fat mouth you’re complaining about suddenly finds its way to yours in a bruising kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your eyes go wide, taking in the sight of your best friend, the boy you share your earliest memories with, his eyes closed as he presses his lips to yours. His hand reaches back up to that spot on your ribcage, cold through the thin tank top you’re wearing. A small part of your brain wonders why this doesn’t feel more strange, why it doesn’t feel like you’re kissing your brother like you always thought it would, but a second later he pulls away from you, the dry skin on his lower lip sticking to yours just a little, and he’s panting hot breath into your face like he’s just gone running.

The action has struck you dumb, and you gape at him like a fish. He finally opens his dark eyes, and the desire you see in them makes your thighs clench and your stomach flip.

“If you could do it over,” he says, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Would you?”

Without any hesitation, you nod.

“And would you want it to be with me?” he prompts, moving his hand up to caress your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

You swallow the lump in your throat, wondering how he’s capable of this, of rendering you suddenly speechless and immobile, with the simple action of touching your skin. His eyes search your face, as if trying to memorize your expression, before finally resting on your parted lips, pink with the force of his kiss. His thumb moves and brushes over your lower lip lightly.

“Y/N,” he says, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say your name that way—with so much longing that it looks like it’s physically hurting him to say it. “We can’t take away the past and all the memories that come with it,” he says quietly. “But what if we could make new memories to replace the old ones?

“What if,” he gulps, and meets your eyes. “What if we could pretend?”

You finally find your voice and shake your head. “That’s such a cop out, Yoongi,” you say forcefully. “This, you and me-” you motion between your chest and his, mere inches apart, “has always been and will always be real. I don’t want to pretend anything.”

The tense expression on his face softens at that. “You know that I’m an atheist, right?”

You nod, unsure where he’s going with the sudden change in topic.

“But sometimes…” He caresses your cheek softly. “Sometimes you make me believe that god exists.”

Your chest hitches at his words, and unbidden tears spring to your eyes. “Yah, so fucking corny,” Yoongi complains, pulling away from you and sitting up, rubbing his own eyes with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Must have been possessed by a demon or something,”

You chuckle and sit up as well, automatically wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. “Well, that explains you kissing me,” you joke.

“Been wanting to do that for a while, actually,” he admits, laughing a little at himself. “Weird, right?”

“The weirdest,” you agree, pressing your face into the spot between his shoulder blades, basking in the coolness of his skin.

His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Was it weird for you?” he asks quietly, sounding insecure.

Your heart skips a little beat, and you shake your head slightly. “A little? I don’t know. I just-” You sigh, and feel a little thrill as he shivers at the feel of your warm breath. You mull the thought over in your head for a second. “We learned to walk together. Learned to talk together. For fuck’s sake, I think we probably even discovered porn together.”

He barks a laugh at that. “Holy shit, I remember that. Your dad wouldn’t allow me back into your house for a month. I think he even consulted with an exorcist about the ‘little demon boy who was corrupting his precious daughter’.”

You laugh, recalling the memory. “And he only eased off you when my mum pointed out that the magazines we found were his,” you add.

“Fucking classic,” he declares. Silence wraps over the both of you like a blanket again, before he eventually ventures, “You were saying?”

“Well, before I was so rudely interrupted,” you chuckle, and he pinches your arm lightly. “I guess because we’ve gone through so many firsts together, it makes sense to do this together, too? I don’t know, Yoongs,” you sigh. “Is this really what you want?” Am I really what you want? you ask mentally, squeezing your eyes shut as your arms involuntarily tighten around him.

He turns, then, maneuvering you gently so that you’re lying against the pillows, him kneeling between your knees with his elbows propped on either side of your head. “Yes,” he breathes, low voice brought even lower. He brings his face closer, nose touching yours. “Fuck, yes.”

Heat pools in your lower belly at the sound of his voice, at his proximity, at the thought of your handsome, stupid, evil best friend whom you love unconfuckingditionally actually telling you all this, at the sight of him on his knees in front of you.

“Kiss me,” you dare him, and he complies without a second thought.

Compared to the first, this kiss is gentle, soothing, like balm on your rattled nerves. The thoughts and doubt bouncing through your head are brought to a standstill and your body floats into the ether, where nothing exists except the here and now, the point of contact between you that slowly starts to burn like a supernova as his mouth begins to move against yours.

His tongue darts out and swipes against your upper lip, asking for permission, and you gasp a little in surprise at the action. He takes advantage and deepens the kiss, his soft tongue exploring your mouth tentatively. His mouth is cold, like the rest of him, and the contrast with the humidity in the room is so stark that you can’t help but want more. You respond as best you can, your arms reaching out and wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

He groans as you fist a hand in his hair, and you’re distantly glad that you hadn’t been able to talk him into that haircut because when you dare sneak a peek at his face, he looks so fucking handsome with his fringe hanging in front of his eyes like that that it takes your breath away.

“Y/N,” he moans, shifting his weight to a single arm as the other inches down your torso, fingers light against the sliver of skin on your hips where your shirt has ridden up. “Fuck,” he whispers, voice husky as you press light kisses on his cheek and on his jaw. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” you say, and he presses his hips into yours so you can feel the hard length of him against the inside of your thigh.

“Is this enough?” he taunts. You hum your approval, taking his face in your hands and guiding his lips back to yours, devouring the space between the both of you because how dare it exist right now?

His hand pushes your shirt up even higher, and as his hands splay across your stomach you muster up the courage to bring your hands to his body, fingertips light as they explore the crevices of his torso, the lines of his stomach and the broad expanse of his shoulders. Where did these muscles even come from?, you wonder. When did the boy I knew turn into a man?

His hips grind into yours, his member impossibly hard against your core, and you feel a rush of wetness against the fabric of your underwear. Your cheeks burn a little at the sensation, but he banishes the thought away when his hand lowers to your hip, tracing the line of your shorts against your thigh. His fingers press against your entrance, and you buck and moan, instinctively moving your hips against the pressure there.

He chuckles, smiling darkly at you. “Eager, are we, love?”

You want to shove his hand away in embarrassment, or at least snap a witty retort back at him, but his fingers are rubbing against you and all that escapes you is a little whimper. He lowers his head, pressing a kiss against the shell of your ear before tracing his tongue along the edge of it. “Are you wet for me, princess?” he asks you huskily. “Do you want my fingers in your tight, wet cunt?”

His rubs the base of his palm against you, and you gasp. It quickly turns into a laugh, however, as his words sink into your lust-addled brain. “Did you really just say ‘cunt’? Actually, scratch that, did you just call me princess?” you say incredulously, and he hangs his head, chuckling at himself. He doesn’t, however, stop his ministrations.

“You really know how to kill the mood, huh?” he retorts, his fingers pushing the fabric of your shorts and underwear aside.

“What are you—oh!” You gasp as he pushes a finger into you, his palm continuing to grind against your clit. He nips at your neck, biting it lightly before laving the spot with his tongue.

“You were saying?” he says against your skin, tasting the salt of your sweat there.

“Fuck,” you whisper, running your hands down his sides and pressing your thumbs against the bones of his hips. “Fuck, Yoongi,”

“Say my name again,” he demands, and you comply, moaning his name into his ear as you bite his earlobe. “Shit,” he groans, sliding another finger into you, stretching you out. You startle a bit, expecting it to hurt but all that you feel is shiver upon shiver of pleasure as he starts to pump them into you. “You’re so wet, Y/N. Is this all for me?”

In retaliation to his taunting you dip your head down and kiss his neck, none too gently leaving a vicious hickey on the side of it as your right hand reaches lower and grasps him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It’s his turn to buck his hips against your hand, and you smirk victoriously against his lips as they crash onto yours.

He suddenly pulls away and flips onto his back, taking you with him. His hand leaves your pussy and you whine a little at the loss of contact, but he pushes you away from his body so you’re kneeling with his hips between your legs. “Too many clothes,” he complains. “Take them off.”

Your eyes flash at the demand, and he moves further back against the headboard, folding his arms behind his head like the cocky bastard that he is. “Please, princess?” he adds mockingly.

Your glare melts into a look of desire as you take in how good he looks sitting there in the half-light, wearing nothing but a smirk and his boxers, eyes dark as he stares you down. It doesn’t take long, however, for your insecurity to catch up. You finger the bottom of your shirt self-consciously, staring down at your hands.

“Stop thinking,” he suddenly says, eyes concerned as he watches you. “You don’t owe me or anybody else perfection,” he tells you, reminding you that regardless of the absurd situation you’ve found yourselves in, he’s still your best friend. Your heart clenches at the fact that he’s putting aside his own desires at the moment to reassure you. “You’re breathtaking the way you are,” he says adamantly, his eyes raking over you hungrily before they harden again into an expression you’re more familiar with. “But if you tell anyone I said I think you’re pretty, I’ll gut you like a fish.”

You smile sappily. “You think I’m pretty?” you repeat, tone teasing.

“Tch,” he scoffs, looking away.

You don’t know why but his absolute trainwreck of a pep talk works, and you take a deep, bracing breath and manage to pull your shirt up over your head, leaning back on your haunches as you sit there in your bra and denim shorts, waiting for his approval.

His eyes dark back to you, gaze blazing with desire as he takes in the sight. “Off,” he says, licking his lips as he stares at your chest. You awkwardly comply, reaching back to fumble with the clasp. At your obvious struggle, he leans forward and reaches behind you, pressing kisses to your collarbone as he does so. Where did he learn to do this, you wonder as he deftly undoes it with a smooth snap of his fingers. His lips lower as he threads your arms out of the straps before leaving you completely to crumple the offending underwear into a ball and chucking it at the wall. You laugh and he grins, dipping his head down to the curve of a breast as his hands cup them. “Perfect,” he breathes quietly against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue and nipping it slightly with his teeth.

You moan, threading your hands through his hair as you tilt your head back. He chuckles at the sound and turns his attention to the other breast, his thumb taking the place of his mouth on the one he just left, drawing circles around the pebbled nipple. He repeats the actions here: twirling his tongue around in lazy circles before nipping it with his teeth and blowing at it lightly.

He chances a glance up at you, and you take advantage of the break in contact to push at his shoulders, forcing him back against the headboard. You shimmy backwards off the mattress, undoing your shorts as you go and drop them onto the floor. You mentally thank yourself for wearing decent underwear. He watches you, not saying a thing, and you climb back onto the bed on your knees, reaching forward for the waistband of his boxers, swatting his hands away when he tries to stop you. You lean forward and press a hungry kiss to his lips before trailing them down his jaw, down his chest and stomach, before you pull his underwear down off his hips. He shifts to help you get them off his legs completely, and you bite your lip when you see him for the first time.

His cock is as white as the rest of him, and it’s much, much bigger than the last (and only) one you’ve seen. You swallow your gasp, but before he can over think himself into insecurity, you lean forward and press kisses into his hips, massaging with your tongue as you work your way downwards.

“Wait!” he gasps out as you grasp the base of him with your hand. You pause and look up at him. “Are you,” he says, his voice breaking. He clears his throat. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

For a second you consider it, telling him exactly what’s on your mind. How instead of fear and apprehension over what you’re doing, all you can feel is this overwhelming hunger, the need to be closer to him, devour him. How he was right, despite your earlier hesitation, and that nothing about this feels strained or contrived, only natural. It was natural to want him, his mouth, his hands, his body, his cock.

You smirk, and pull your fist up over him. He groans, his hips bucking into your hand. “Does that answer your question?” you mock, and he glares at you with something akin to admiration.

Your eyes not leaving his, you dip your head down and tentatively lick up the length of him. His eyes flutter shut, and he tosses his head back with another moan. Taking it as encouragement, you wrap your lips around his tip, tracing around the rim with your tongue and pushing along the underside of it to squeeze out his precum. He lets out a curse, and you aren’t sure if it’s directed at you or some deity, so you take more of him into your mouth, tensing your lips and sucking in your cheeks to wrap around his member more tightly. You move your mouth up and down, squeezing the base of his dick and pumping it in time with your mouth. Within a few minutes, it’s red and throbbing, all velvet-soft skin but rock hard in your mouth as you take more and more of him into it. It hits the back of your throat and you swallow, making him jolt upright with a curse, fisting his hands in your hair and guiding you into the motion once, twice and three more times.

He pulls you off him, eyes frenzied. “Fuck, Y/N, come here,” he whispers, pulling your face to his and kissing you hungrily, all gnashing teeth and tongue, before he practically tosses you onto your back. He moves quickly down your body, ripping your underwear as he takes them off.

You open your mouth to protest, but he pushes your knees apart with his hands and settles between them, immediately lowering his head to your crotch. “God!” you gasp as he thrusts two fingers into you with no warning.

“Thanks, but I’m Yoongi,” he says mockingly, twisting them inside you and pumping slightly.

You groan at his impertinence, unable to do anything other than fall backwards into the mattress. “Fuck,” you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Exactly what I plan to do to you, princess.” He uses the pet name again mockingly, but you can’t even get yourself together long enough to glare at him because he’s pulled his fingers out and is running his tongue over your slit and good god has anything else in your life ever felt this good?

For all that he acts like he’s god’s gift to man, you finally start to think it might be true with the way he’s flicking his tongue over your clit, alternating between massaging your lower lips and tracing circles on the skin around it. His fingers find their way inside you again, hooking backwards onto a spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He grabs your thighs and yanks you down the mattress so that your ass is resting on the very edge. He settles onto his knees and hooks your legs around his shoulders before setting back down to work. All the while, the coil inside of you continues to tighten. You reach down and grab his hair, grinding your hips into his face shamelessly, desperate for the coil to snap and release you from the torture. You’ve never been this turned on in your life. You start to feel the edges of your composure start to fray and you’re almost there, almost—

SMACK.

He pulls away and gives your ass a sharp slap, making you gasp and arch your back upwards. Your bleary eyes focus to find him towering over you, having stood up, and nudging you back towards the center of the bed. “Not yet, love,” he chastises, pressing light kisses on your shoulders and breasts as he settles you back on the pillows as his left hand grasps his dick, pumping it. He doesn’t look self-conscious in the least, and the sight of it makes your mouth water.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, dipping a finger back inside of you before circling it around your clit and spreading your juices all over your pussy. He kneels between your legs, looking like an arrogant sonnuvabitch. He watches your face as he quickly works you back up. You moan, and he unceremoniously shoves three fingers in you this time, stretching your cunt almost painfully. “Tell me,” he orders you.

You grab your breasts, pinching your nipples as you knead them. You get closer and closer to your release just by his hands, but you manage to gasp, “Please, Yoongi, I want you inside of me!”

He smirks and removes his hand, but before you can complain he pushes himself inside of you, buried to the hilt. The coil inside of you finally snaps like a whip, sending tongues of fire licking through your system. You cry out his name, practically sobbing as your walls convulse around him. You aren’t sure, but in the midst of the chaos in your body you hear him moan your own name like a prayer.

His elbows buckle and his chest falls onto yours. He grinds his hips harder into you, prolonging your pleasure, as he presses soft kisses on your neck and face. You bite painfully into his shoulder as you ride out your orgasm, feeling the waves of pleasure crash over you and take you under. Before they can ebb away completely, he starts to move his hips again—pulling himself out of you almost completely before thrusting back into you again, each time sending a jolt of pleasure through your system.

“I’m not going to last long,” he tells you quietly, his teeth gritted and his eyes squeezed shut.

You reach up and run a soothing hand through his hair as the other grips his hip, aiding his movements. “Come for me, Yoongi,” you whisper, tracing your tongue around the shell of his ear. “I want to feel you come inside of me,”

“Fuck,” he hisses, and all it takes is three more thrusts before you can feel him release inside of you, member twitching as he rides out his orgasm. “Fuck,” he says again, looking down at you lovingly. He presses lazy kisses all over your mouth and face, even over your eyelids, as you smile and bask in the afterglow.

He slowly pulls out of you, grunting as he launches himself off the bed and retrieving a towel from the bathroom. He wets it slightly from the tap before returning to clean you both off, totally unmindful of the fact that he does so stark naked. He climbs back into bed and settles you into his arms, your back to him as he holds you close. “You okay?” he asks, lazily running his fingertips up and down your arm.

You nod sleepily. “I am sorry, though,”

You can feel his body tense behind yours, and you hide your smirk in his arm. “You are?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod, trying to inject sadness into your tone. “Now that I’ve taken your virginity, you’ll never be able to touch a unicorn again.”

He snorts. “Bitch, I am a fucking unicorn,” he says with so much conviction that all you can do is laugh.

Both of you settle back into your positions, basking in the comfort that the other offers, the motion of his hand on your arm soothing. You know that you should be freaking out, even just a little, over the fact that you’ve just slept with your best friend. You should probably feel like you’ve sold your soul to Satan himself for how mind-bendingly good it had been, but you find that you still feel the same—that nothing has changed.

Maybe it’s a little fucked, you think, being able to sleep with your best friend without any romantic inclinations—but what you have with Yoongi is so much more than that. He loves you, and you love him; without question, without expectation.

He pulls you from your reverie with a kiss to your temple and softly calling your name. You hum to let him know that you’re awake and listening, and he wraps his arm around your body, hugging you tightly. “Now will you make me dinner?” he asks sweetly.

You roll your eyes and sit up, whacking him in the chest. “What!” he demands, hands up to placate you. “Please? I’m still hungry!”

You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re hopeless,” you say as you turn on the beside lamp and begin to reach for your clothes.

“I mean,” he continues, ignoring you and continuing to be completely unbothered about the fact that he was still naked. “You were delicious, but man cannot live on pussy alone, Y/N.”

“You’re incorrigible,” you state, holding up your torn underwear to prove your point. “But you do have a point.” You grab clean underwear and a shirt from the dresser, which so happens to be his, before throwing him clothes as well. “C’mon, let’s go hit the convenience store.”

He grins at you and gets dressed, and you ignore the way he watches you put your shorts back on.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says as you’re on your way out. You glance at him, pulling your hair into a bun. You take in his disheveled appearance, from the rats nest that his hair has turned into to the bright red hickey on his neck, and flush a little. “You look good in my shirt. You should start wearing them at home.”

“Let me guess, with nothing under?” you ask, rolling your eyes.

He smirks at you. “'Atta girl.”

You spend the rest of the walk to the convenience store telling him off for being such a big, fat, stinking pervert, but, as usual, he’s half plugged into his headphones and is mostly ignoring you. As he picks out what he wants to eat, you’re tempted to ask how he feels about what just happened, but he’s humming under his breath and there’s a small smile on his face that you’ve never seen before. As he badgers you for ice cream after your meal, you want to ask what happens now, what are you now—still best friends or is he expecting something else? But then he reaches forward and swipes some ice cream off your chin with his thumb, complaining about your terrible table manners, and you remember who it is you’re working yourself up about.

This is Min Yoongi, your best friend. Sure, you just slept together, but whatever happened now, the both of you would wing it. Unless it got bad or awkward, which it wouldn’t, the two of you were just back to normally scheduled programming.

#BTS #BTS fanfiction #BTS imagine #yoongi #min yoongi #suga

[crpskills-blog]

Does RSD/CRPS have you backed into a Corner?

I've tried over and over to explain what this condition feels like. I have a video on our Instagram page with this guy on fire... Yes, literal fire. He's being burned alive but of course he gets decency of dying. I'm tired of people abusing the medications that we need to be okay. There are 672 hours in a month you see a doctor for maybe 10 to 20 minutes... Maybe you're at the office for an hour or two so that leaves 670 hours. Now your next task is to go to the pharmacy. If you go inside the pharmacy and there are people in front of you in the line, give it about an hour. Pharmacist didn't tell you to come back an hour or two, let's be generous and give it about four hours for them to fill it that still leaves 600 and 65 hours for the rest of the month. I don't know about you but I don't like going outside showing any type of weakness. Sometimes I don't have a choice. Flare ups happen at any time that's not something we get to control. What are the odds that out of the 672 hours do you think you'll have a flare up at the doctor's office? Granted sometimes happens, and that's great because then they get to see what you go through. Fact matter is the odds are against you. Let's say you don't need to prove to your doctor that you're hurting and that you're in real pain The Next Step is the pharmacy. Again, what the odds that a flare-up was is going to happen specifically while you're at the pharmacy? You can try to not take your medication... { I wouldn't suggest this course of action as the consequences could mean death if the location you're at is not prepared to bring you back.} . Keep in mind that there is a big difference between having aflare up and a slight increase in pain. Those that have no understanding of what any of this is, difference between an increased level of pain and a flare up. So, let's say miraculously I have a flare-up in front of your pharmacist.... Then what? I'll write another article about are pharmacies over here actually legal drug dealers but I'm not talking about the chain pharmacies like CVS, Walgreens, Publix, Etc. I'm talking about the mom pharmacies in Florida and as I said that's a different article for a different time. Okay, so your pharmacist now saw what a flare-up looks like to you. He or she, if they didn't believe you before, will believe that you're actually in pain. That you actually need the medication being prescribed to you. Here's the problem.... Most of the time places like CVS, Walgreens, Publix etc they have their own rules and regulations they have to follow. So realistically speaking you could be dying in front of the pharmacist and it would be irrelevant . I'm sure they call 911 if you want to get technical but that's not the point. The point is no matter how much your pharmacist may want to help you sometimes they're tied up with bureaucracy. So if you're a pain patient please don't blame your pharmacist for not being able fill a certain amount of medication anymore. For a condition like RSD you have doctors recommend minimal opiate regimen along with physical therapy, injections, probably ketamine infusion, most likely stallion ganglion block, etc. What if you tried all the available treatments, did all the surgeries, did the physical therapy and you're still hurting. When I say hurt I don't mean take a Tylenol and Walk It Off. I mean the kind of hurt I really can't put into words. You'll find the term quality of life being used at this point. How is it affecting your quality of life? What if it's affecting your quality of life to the point where it's debilitating you've become utterly useless. That is without the medication. What now? Go to one of the states that approve euthanasia? Come on man, no one wants to do that. No one wants their life to end. I don't and I'm sure you don't either. Anyone in this position wants one thing minimally.... Adequate pain management. . Please notice I didn't say go away I said managed.... I am grateful to have a doctor who actually cares about both my physiological and psychological well-being and I'm grateful to have a pharmacist who's not judgmental but understanding. It took me 7 years to get here. I can't imagine what it must be like for people who don't have that and who's trying to get help but keeps running into closed doors. There are resources out there that can help you depends on where you are at. The least I can do is offer my assistance. I can't guarantee I'll be able to help but I will try. You can contact me using the contact us option website, or if you have social media you can reach me on Instagram @RSDKILLS. We really do check our inbox, and we do get back to everybody... So please don't hesitate to contact us if you find yourself back into a corner and need help. Read the full article

#CRPS #medicationissuewithcrps/rsd #monthtomonthlivingwithcrps #monthtomonthlivingwithRSD #pharmacyissueswithcrpsmedications #RSD

[voidfell]

Gonna go ahead and clock today's muses as:

Sonic the Hedgehog

Timmy Turner

Leo Hamato (ROTTMNT)

Cody Jones (TMNT Fast Forward)

Stella / The Wishing Star

Jaime Reyes

Surge the Tenrec

So consider this an Inbox Call that I'll reblog a couple times while I'm at work today. You can also request other muses but if you don't make a request you'll get one of these guys in your inbox, understand?

#(Might start doing inbox calls more regularly. They're fun and lower effort then starters. . .) #✧˖*°࿐ INBOX CALL // dealers choice. it ME. i am the DEALER. #✧˖*°࿐ OOC // ROAD WORK ahead? uh i sure HOPE so.

[punkscowardschampions]

Buster & Rio

Buster: Talk to me Buster: Please Rio: I'm busy Buster: Alright. I'm not gonna be all in your face then Buster: But I'm sorry Buster: That's all I wanted to say Rio: Okay Rio: Thanks Rio: How is she then? Buster: You were right Buster: Can we talk later when you're not busy? Rio: Well, the 'I told you so' don't feel that good Rio: if it's any consolation Buster: I'm not about to take that as a victory, like, don't worry Rio: You do whatever you want Buster Rio: I'm good Buster: Babe Buster: Come on Buster: Do whatever you want, but don't lie to me Rio: Well Rio: I will be soon anyway Buster: What does that mean? Rio: That I'm going out Rio: to have fun Buster: Where are you going? I'll come meet you Rio: No Rio: Don't Rio: You've got to stay in with your sister anyway Buster: I've got to fix things with you too though Buster: I get that you're mad but just let me Rio: I don't wanna talk yet Rio: Later Buster: So you wanna wait until you're drunk, yeah? Rio: Not an amatuer, babe Buster: Whatever Buster: I'll talk to you later then Rio: [Later enough that drugs have been purchased and taken] Rio: What you wanna say then boy? Buster: Do you actually wanna hear it now? Buster: We can do this tomorrow Rio: S'why I asked Buster: What can I do so you'll forgive me? Rio: Hmm Rio: Let me think Buster: I reckoned that's what you'd been doing Buster: But alright Rio: I told you I've been busy Rio: and I told you I'm not obsessed with you Rio: I have a life too you know Buster: Okay Rio: Stop thinking that Rio: that's a start Buster: I don't Rio: and stop taking for granted that I'll stay Rio: just because I love you Rio: it doesn't mean you get to treat me like shit, or put everyone else before me Buster: Babe, I'm sorry if that's what you think Buster: Nobody comes before you Buster: I didn't mean to hurt you and it's shitty that I did Buster: But you're so important to me, you know Rio: I just Rio: The baby does like, but that doesn't mean she does Rio: it ain't the same thing, I want you to know 'cos she'll milk that for all it's worth and you wouldn't listen to me Buster: I know Buster: But I genuinely was worried about the baby, not her Buster: Lesson learned, like Buster: I should've listened to you Rio: I don't want her to take advantage of you any more than she already has Buster: It's not gonna happen Buster: I'll be surprised if she even talks to me again any time soon after how that convo went Rio: Is she mad Buster: I don't care Rio: Yeah Rio: Me either Buster: Are you mad? Rio: No doubt I'll get over it Buster: Let me help you Buster: Whatever you want Rio: I'm sorted Rio: I just got back from picking up Buster: So you're with Indie Rio: No Rio: She's at one of her mates Buster: Who are you with then? Rio: Party of one now Rio: Which is a shame Buster: I'll pick you up Buster: Are you back at the flat? Rio: You're not having any of my drugs Rio: we took most of it anyway Buster: I never said I wanted any Buster: So what, you wanna be on your own? Rio: I don't know Rio: I thought she'd be her Rio: e Buster: Call her Buster: She'll come back Rio: No Rio: Dramatic Buster: I'll do it then Buster: She knows I am Rio: Don't Rio: or Imma make you grovel again Buster: Tell me what you do what me to do then Buster: want* Buster: I can take you home or bring you here Buster: Or we can just keep talking Rio: I'm honestly fine Rio: I didn't wanna talk but you've ruined it Buster: I'll go then Rio: I'm meant to be shocked? Dick Buster: If you don't wanna talk to me and I've ruined your night I'm not just gonna sit here with this inbox open Rio: Then don't Rio: See if I care Buster: Stop it Buster: I know you care Buster: So do I Rio: Well sometimes I wish I didn't Buster: If you can stop, go ahead Buster: I can't Rio: Of course I fucking can't Buster: Then talk to me Buster: What's the fucking point of this? Rio: I can't because you'll be angry Rio: today is piling shit ontop of shit Rio: let's just stop Buster: Why would I be angry? I'm the one that fucked up Buster: You were right, I told you Rio: Yeah well, ditto, babe Buster: What do you mean? You're just high that's hardly the end of the world, babe Rio: It could've been so much more Rio: it would've been so easy Buster: Tell me what happened Rio: Where'd you think I got the drugs from Rio: Who Buster: What the fuck did he do Rio: Nothing no Rio: I think it was me, I text him Rio: but he was really nice about it and nothing actually happened he drove me back Buster: You text him 'cause you wanted drugs and then what? Buster: Did he take them with you? Rio: well yeah Rio: but I didn't pay so fair right Buster: You didn't pay anything? Rio: nope Rio: i offered but Buster: What did he say when you offered? Rio: yeah you know how it goes, it was just a joke Rio: banter Buster: Bullshit Buster: We've been here before, remember Buster: What did he say, Rio Rio: Don't Rio: It's so embarrassing to repeat and you know Buster: I'm gonna kill him Buster: Where is he? Rio: Buster stop Rio: It wasn't like that we we're hanging out, joking Buster: Not this time Buster: He needs to stop Buster: It's a joke until it isn't, babe Buster: Next time what do you think it'll be like Rio: There won't be a next time, I'm not like that Buster: You're not the one who's done anything wrong Buster: He's a drug dealer, you wanted to buy drugs Rio: Neither has he, nothing even happened properly Buster: Nothing should come close to happening Buster: He's having a baby with my fucking aunt Buster: And that's not even the only reason why this is fucked Rio: Exactly so don't do anything or everyone will find out Rio: it was my fault, I was giving off a weird vibe Buster: They need to Buster: How many times is he gonna ruin shit for this family, Jesus Christ Rio: Nothing's ruined Rio: don't tell, please Buster: I'm going to find him Buster: Nance will understand Rio: Don't Rio: How can I convince you this isn't a big deal, come on Buster: I'm not gonna tell anyone I'm just gonna hurt him Buster: Don't worry about it Rio: Buster, stop Rio: Please listen to me Rio: we'll be the ones who ruin everything if you do, not only with Ro and my parents and Edie and Indie Rio: but he knows about us remember, 'cos he does Buster: I don't care about that Buster: This is more important Rio: What about what I want Rio: doesn't that matter at all Buster: Of course it does Buster: Please, just don't stop me again, okay Rio: It's not going to make you feel any better Buster: Yes it will Buster: And if it means he leaves you alone it'll make you feel better too Rio: What if I wanted it to happen Buster: What? Rio: Well maybe I wanted to do it, you can't do this then Rio: right Buster: Don't say that Buster: Of course you didn't Rio: Just don't, yeah Buster: Tell me that you didn't want that Rio: Nothing happened Rio: If I wanted, something would have Rio: but that's my point, it was nothing, seriously Buster: Rio, that's so sick Buster: Don't you know that? Rio: What? Buster: He shouldn't want anything like that to happen with you Buster: We've dragged Chlo through the mud but like, she's not a grown man Rio: He's not that old Rio: and I'm legal Buster: He's the same age as your fucking dad Buster: They grew up together Buster: Come on Rio: He can't not look, really, it's not like I give people much choice Buster: Yes he can Buster: You remember him from being a kid Buster: It's fucked up Buster: Why are you making excuses for him? How can you? Rio: Well everything's a bit fucked up in this family really isn't it Buster: If you compare me to him, I swear to god Rio: I didn't Rio: I'm just saying, I've not got room to judge Buster: You have though Buster: You should Rio: It's fine Rio: I don't care Buster: I can't do this Buster: Fuck's sake Rio: You'll leave it now? Buster: I'm walking away from this convo for a sec before I say something I don't wanna Rio: Go on, get it out here, like Buster: No Rio: It's my fault Rio: Do it Buster: Shut up Rio: No Rio: Make me Buster: I love you, so stop Rio: Why Buster: 'Cause I don't wanna hurt you by saying everything I'm thinking right now Rio: I can handle it Buster: I'm not doing this Rio: Pussy Buster: You're not gonna make me Buster: Leave it alone Rio: Yeah that's good, just tell me you're thinking horrible things about me but don't say them Rio: and you wanted to talk Rio: bullshit, Buster Buster: Excuse me for not wanting to fuck up again tonight Rio: It's your turn, like Buster: Are you keeping score now? Rio: Maybe Rio: Been that kinda day Buster: Then let's call it a night Buster: Enough of this Rio: What, so I can go back to being alone? Rio: Great Rio: Thanks Buster: Let me call someone for you or take you somewhere Buster: This is so stupid Rio: NO Rio: I don't fucking want them don't you get it Rio: you're stupid Rio: being home is no different than being here Buster: Come here then Buster: Just stop shouting at me Rio: You don't want me though do you Buster: Of course I fucking do Buster: Don't say that Rio: You're disgusted right Rio: I bet you can't even look at me Buster: Not by you Buster: Just him Rio: Do you think I did it Buster: I don't think you did anything wrong Rio: Honest? Buster: Seriously Buster: None of this is your fault Rio: I don't know how you can mean it Rio: but I believe you Buster: 'Cause it's true, Rio Buster: It hurts me that you don't know that Rio: I get paid to take my clothes off and talk about sex Rio: everyone's seen me get fucked Rio: it's not so leftfield for him to reckon i'd fuck him for payment Buster: Yes it is Buster: That's like Chlo saying 'cause I've fucked her friends I wanted to fuck her and it's no big deal Rio: Money makes it different Rio: you wanted to fuck them, that's fine Rio: I'm just doing it for the cash, so why not that too right Buster: 'Cause of who he is for one thing is why not Buster: 'Cause you've made it clear to him that you don't want to Buster: 'Cause wanting to get high doesn't mean you wanna get fucked Buster: 'Cause you're worth more than however the fuck much he gave you Rio: Have I though? Maybe I'm just not good at making it clear Rio: Ryan doesn't get it either Buster: That's them Buster: Lads have really fucked you over, babe Buster: I hate it Buster: I've always known exactly what you want and don't. It's not hard to read your signals never mind take it what you're actually saying Rio: Shut up Rio: I'm no sob story it's standard Buster: It's not and I can't handle you thinking it is Rio: You reckon no girl you've been with ever felt like this Buster: I've been a massive cunt to plenty of them but I still know they haven't Rio: Nah, you're wrong Rio: not saying because of you Rio: but they have Buster: Even if other girls have been through it, it doesn't make a difference Buster: It's still not right Buster: If this was happening to someone else you'd be first in line to fuck the dude up Buster: You know you would Rio: Yeah well other people don't deserve it Buster: Why do you? Rio: Because Rio: well because I dress how I do, and I put myself out there naked all the time anyway Rio: what else would people think Rio: it's logical Buster: Bullshit Buster: Normal people would reckon that how you dress doesn't make a difference Buster: And neither does your job, 'Cause that's what it is, babe. A job Buster: If Indie was doing it you wouldn't let people treat her like shit Rio: But she isn't and wouldn't Rio: I'm not saying it's right but it's the world we live in Rio: it is what it is Buster: No, cunts are gonna think what cunts are gonna think but that ain't your fault Buster: I refuse to believe your ma ain't never taken you to a women's march or some shit Buster: If anything you should get more respect for doing it, not less, 'cause of the cunts you have to deal with Rio: Well I don't so whatever Buster: Not whatever Buster: It's shit and you don't have to accept it Rio: Christ, do you wanna go on a march or something Buster: Shut up Buster: Have you met my mother and sister? I get all the feminist speeches I need Rio: Yeah well you know it's bullshit then Buster: What drugs did he give you? Buster: You're so down on yourself and everything else Rio: Oh yeah, this is an issue with the drugs Rio: Get real, babe Buster: I'm being real, you're being negative to the extreme Rio: Damn, I'm so sorry Rio: You want posi vibes go find my Ma Buster: Calm down Rio: Whatever Buster: Stop saying whatever to me Rio: Say something I wanna hear then Buster: Like what? Rio: If you need to ask it ain't gonna happen Rio: go to bed Buster: Only if you take your own advice Rio: Sure Rio: if you like Buster: Please do Rio: Don't make me whatever at you again Rio: I've still got some left Buster: You don't need that Buster: You need to stop Rio: I know my limits, thanks Buster: Act like it then Rio: Stop lecturing me Buster: Stop being such a headfuck Rio: If you don't like it you know what to do Buster: If you don't want me to tell you what to do, then don't try and do the same to me, babe Rio: What do you want, Buster? Buster: Why are you asking me that? You already know the answers Rio: I'm not in the mood now Rio: that ship has sailed Buster: If you think I'm gonna fuck you in this state then I don't know what to tell you Rio: You're not Buster: That's my point Rio: So Rio: you can go Buster: No Buster: I might be too sober for whatever the fuck is going on with you right now but that doesn't mean I'm leaving you to it Buster: Not actually that much of a cunt, like Rio: Entertain yourself then Buster: Fine Rio: You actually got nothing better on Rio: wake Nance up, like Buster: I'm not just sitting here Buster: I've got plenty of shit to do Rio: You should focus for once Buster: Stop telling me what to do Rio: It was a suggestion not a demand Rio: touchy Buster: Don't Buster: You're so annoying on whatever Drew's mystery freebies are Rio: Maybe you just deserve it Buster: What is that meant to mean? Rio: We're here 'cos you were meant to be apologising Rio: remember Rio: not forgot just 'cos I'm wasted Buster: I already said sorry Buster: But okay Buster: I'm sorry again Rio: Yeah Buster: I fucked up it's not gonna happen that way again Rio: Alright Rio: We'll see Buster: You don't believe me? Rio: I believe you've got good intentions Buster: That's not the same thing Buster: I told you, I'm done jumping through hoops for her Rio: 'Til you know it's yours for sure Rio: then you'll have to Buster: No I won't Buster: She doesn't get to hold me to ransom even if it is my kid Rio: I wish that were true Rio: You think lads are bad Rio: Girls can be evil Buster: Cheers for that, babe Buster: You're a bit late with the warning, like, but Rio: Well Rio: I didn't think this would happen Buster: That makes two of us Rio: It's shit Buster: Yeah, I know Rio: It's always going to be shit isn't it Buster: Of course not Buster: We're gonna be so good, remember? Rio: Sounds like the kinda shit I'd say Rio: yeah Buster: Yeah Buster: You did Buster: And I believe it Rio: I'm glad you do Buster: You're telling me you don't now? Rio: I didn't say that Buster: What are you saying? Rio: I don't know Rio: I need to get away Buster: From me? Rio: No Rio: From here Buster: Come to London with me Rio: I don't think I can come meet her parents with you babe Buster: That's not what I said Buster: And I'm not doing that anyway Rio: Since when? Buster: Since today when I told her I'm not Rio: Why didn't you tell me Buster: There's been a lot going on, babe Buster: You didn't wanna talk to me and I just wanted to say sorry so Rio: Ugh Rio: you don't tell me any of the good bits Buster: Bullshit Buster: I tell you everything Rio: Obviously not boy Buster: Fuck off Rio: You are rude Buster: Stop lying Rio: Yet more rudeness Rio: Unbelieveable Buster: You love me Buster: Shh Rio: Sad but true Buster: Don't say it like that Rio: Jokes Buster: 😒 Rio: Can dish it out but can't take it huh Buster: You don't have to be competitively rude Buster: It's not a game, like Rio: Oh so you want me to say nice things to you and you get to be a meanie Rio: I think not Buster: I can be nice Rio: You're gonna have to prove that Buster: Yeah? Buster: Easy Rio: ? Rio: I'm waiting Buster: What I have to prove it but you don't have to earn it? Now that's rude Rio: 😒 Buster: Are you gonna come to London or what? Rio: Maybe Rio: but even in my intoxicated state I know it needs more planning than just saying yeah Buster: If I say please will you say yeah anyway though Rio: Say it then Buster: Please stay in London with me, baby Rio: Oh Rio: that was nice Rio: Yeah, I will Buster: Good Buster: I wish we could start today over Buster: I miss you Rio: We can Rio: Come see me Buster: I can't, you're too wasted and so is my sister Rio: Please Buster: I really want to Rio: Then come Buster: You need sleep Buster: The comedown is gonna be a bitch Rio: I need you Buster: I can't just leave Nance here she won't know what the fuck is going on Buster: I'll come get you, you can be here too Rio: Can you drive? Buster: I'm not the one that's high, babe Rio: Okay Rio: smartypants Rio: Come get me Buster: I'm on my way Rio: 🤤 Buster: I love you Buster: Hold on, I'll be right there Rio: I love you Rio: you're hot Buster: Yeah I know Rio: so damn hot Rio: i want you Buster: Tomorrow Buster: When you wake up you can have the whole day if you want Rio: 😣 Rio: cocktease Buster: I'm only a tease if I break that promise Rio: I'm mad Buster: Babe Buster: I'll still make you feel good Buster: But you don't wanna fuck me Rio: I do too Buster: You might change your mind again before I get there Buster: You already have from earlier Rio: Well I'll let you know Buster: Good Buster: Chat away then 'cause if you wake Nance you will be mad and so will she probably Rio: Pshh Rio: You know I can be quiet Buster: Normally yeah, but I'm not sure I trust in whatever you're on Rio: 😑 Rio: I'm not gonna out us to your sister Buster: I know you won't Buster: I wouldn't let it happen anyway Rio: Exactly Rio: Plenty of ways to shut me up so let's play Buster: I'm trying to be good right now and you're making it harder than it should be Rio: Fuck good Rio: fuck me Buster: Jesus Rio: Little late to be turning to him babe Buster: Yeah Rio: [Morning after] Rio: Where are you? Buster: Breakfast run Buster: I'll be back soon Rio: Oh good Rio: I thought you'd relegated yourself to the sofa on my behalf Buster: Like you'd have let me Buster: You weren't letting go, babe Rio: Are you mad? Buster: 'Course not Buster: Are you okay? Rio: Dehydrated like a motherfucker Rio: don't say told you so Rio: is Nance up? Buster: Drink your water I deliberately left it within reach Buster: Neither of you were when I left but she could have been faking so she didn't have to face the world, like Rio: You're cute Rio: I'll attempt to lift my head, like Rio: Poor babe, I'm not hearing any groans of despair so maybe she's still out Buster: I'll rig up some kind of elaborate straw set up like the nerd I am if you wait for me Buster: I'll console her with breakfast either way Rio: Don't make me laugh Rio: or be nice to me Rio: Good idea Rio: that and complete feigned ignorance, at least I got so trashed it's almost believeable from me too Buster: I'll try not to make you laugh but you can't stop me being nice to you Buster: Yeah, obviously Buster: Do you want that from me too? Rio: No Rio: I don't like it when we don't tell each other the truth Buster: Me either Rio: How are you? Buster: Standard Buster: Well, my new one of tired and stressed, like Rio: Babe Rio: You should sleep when you get back Buster: And waste this coffee, yeah right? Buster: I've got too much to do anyway Rio: 😔 Rio: Least let me give you a massage Buster: 'Cause that won't be distracting at all, like Rio: After then Rio: I'm really good at them Buster: Humble brag Buster: But I don't doubt it Rio: I'm just tryna make amends Rio: I'll think of something Rio: not firing on all cylinders yet but Buster: Babe you don't have to Buster: I'm not gonna say no to you proving how good you are with your hands in yet another way but like Buster: It shouldn't be 'cause you feel bad Rio: But I do Rio: but I want to too Rio: I don't want you to be stressed Buster: Don't Buster: You don't owe me anything, yeah? I want to take care of you too Buster: And I'm not stressed 'cause of you, you know that right? Rio: Lil bit tho Rio: lbr Buster: Nah Buster: Yesterday was already a headfuck before you were Buster: And I can't actually make you do all my school work, hot as the idea is Rio: Okay Rio: I'll let you get on, promise Rio: No funny business Buster: Shame Buster: But if I have to keep on being 😇 so be it Buster: If I could resist you last night I can do anything Rio: Hm? Rio: Yeah I bet the mess was so desirable, like 😏 Buster: You were Buster: You are Buster: And you thought I was too so Buster: Christ knows why Rio: Who are you and what have you done with Buster McKenna? Buster: He's here somewhere, queuing for espresso Buster: But he was hardly bringing his A game to you at that AM after a mad dash to the 24, like Rio: Oh God Rio: might crawl into Nance's shame pit with her Rio: don't mind me Buster: There's no need Buster: You were all over the place, but at least you weren't stalking your exes Buster: Did think I might be one at certain points but Buster: Cheers for not dumping me Rio: Really throw him off Rio: A power move, honestly, and a better use of my evening alas Rio: Shut up Buster: I was trying to stalk Drew so I could murder him in fairness so I can't judge Rio: I remember that much Rio: Let's not Buster: You were right, as usual Buster: Take it Rio: I did not feel it, trust Buster: I know Rio: Indie's texting Rio: Ugh, I feel awful Buster: Are you gonna tell her? Rio: I don't think so? Rio: I hate feeling like I'm lying again but Rio: it's not worth it, she knows what he is, I don't need to feel like I'm stirring the pot Buster: For what my opinion's worth, now I'm calmer about it I don't reckon you should either Buster: How fucked to know that your dad ain't changed from the days he was fucking your mum for drugs Buster: She don't need that spelled out again Rio: Yeah Rio: It'll just hurt her Rio: I don't trust him to give a fuck so Rio: Nah Buster: Exactly Buster: I'm sorry I lost it Buster: You don't have to worry about what I'm gonna do, alright Rio: I don't blame you Rio: it was valid Rio: but glad we're on the same page about what to do now Buster: Yeah Buster: I don't wanna fight with you about that cunt of all people Rio: Seriously Rio: Agreed Rio: Safe to say I'm off the drugs but if I get the urge Rio: go somewhere else, like Rio: easy to avoid Buster: It's not like he comes around to see Indie that often either so Buster: I just wish Chlo was that easy to avoid Rio: If only Rio: Have you heard anything since? Buster: I've blocked her socials 'cause she was all over my feed so I'm waiting for that backlash but no Buster: I meant everything I said last night, you know Rio: Wait for her to find you on some obscure platform you'd forgot about Rio: that's always fun Rio: yeah, I know Buster: If she starts liking more of your pics we know why Buster: Hopefully even she isn't shameless enough to try and talk to me via Nance after everything though Rio: Won't get cocky, like Rio: Yikes Rio: She wouldn't, right? Buster: Honestly? I wouldn't be surprised Buster: Last night she was so Buster: It's next level Rio: Maybe unblock her then Rio: What if she thinks Nancy knows about the baby Rio: or just drops it for the fun of it Buster: Fuck Buster: Tell me I don't have to Buster: I can't deal with this right now Rio: I'm sorry Rio: but like you said, wouldn't put it past her, and that would be worse Buster: You're not the one who should be Buster: I keep fucking this up, don't I? Buster: I should've just listened to you. And my mum Rio: We don't have to deal with it Rio: it's hard to know what to do for the best when she's happy to use anything against you Rio: can't win Buster: I don't wanna lose everything, that's all Rio: You won't Rio: Nancy is never gonna be on her side Rio: even if Chloe did talk shit Rio: it's not gonna be good but, you won't lose her Rio: and you've got me Buster: Don't leave Buster: I know it's shit right now but Rio: I'm not going anywhere Rio: 'cept with you Buster: I know Buster: I'm just being dramatic Buster: Maybe I do need sleep Rio: Just a power nap Rio: I'll wake you up Rio: even if you do look like an 😇 when you're sleeping Buster: I know Nance is here and we have to have breakfast and all that bullshit but Buster: Will you stay with me anyway while I'm asleep Rio: Of course Rio: I kind of forgot I just couldn't Buster: Yeah Buster: I have to force myself to remember it can't be the same when other people are around Rio: Same Buster: I would've just kissed you when I came in whether Nance was there or not, like sorry but honey I'm home Rio: Now I'm sad that you can't Buster: Meet me on my way in and I'll do it there Buster: Say you need the fresh air Rio: Why are you so cute Buster: It's your fault looking so beautiful when all you're doing is sleeping Buster: Making me miss you and not wanna leave with your eyes closed, literally Rio: You got it so bad, babe Rio: Don't ever stop, okay Buster: Don't you stop Rio: Just born like it, babe Rio: couldn't if I tried Rio: 😋 Buster: 😏 Buster: There she is, the love of my life Rio: Shh Rio: Got me here swooning Buster: You're in the right place for it Buster: Me, not so much Buster: Speaking of shhing don't tell your dad how busy this place is on a weekday morning, yeah? Rio: Yeah Rio: should get up though, make the sofa look slept on Rio: but I'm warm and comfy Rio: I know Rio: 💔 like Buster: Stay there I'll be back soon Buster: I can do that Rio: I'm so lazy Rio: how long have you been up Buster: I'm selfish, that's where I want you Buster: Too long, babe Rio: Fine by me baby Buster: How does it feel like actual years since we were properly alone together, like? Rio: I know Rio: Long fucking day, like Rio: I miss you Buster: I miss you too Buster: so badly Rio: Well if you're good and get your work done, I'll take you out Buster: Let's just go out once breakfast is done Buster: I'll tell Nance I'm taking you home and we'll just Rio: Unless the next words outta your mouth are study date Rio: you know you gotta shh Buster: Babe Rio: Be a nerd Rio: you know it turns me on 😉 Buster: Alright Buster: But keep your hands to yourself if I have to Rio: 👐 where you can see 'em like Buster: Good Buster: I can still enjoy the view Rio: 'Course Rio: you're not training to be a priest, are you Buster: Sometimes a fair few praises of the big man do come out of my mouth, so I can see why you'd ask, but nah Rio: 😂 Rio: Shame Buster: Is that how you want it? Rio: Gotta replace the school uniform with something, babe Buster: Fine by me Buster: I love telling you to kneel Rio: Jesus Rio: You're making it very hard to be good Buster: There's plenty of time with that Buster: for* Buster: And Jesus is all about forgiveness, yeah? So Rio: So Rio: Make it through breakfast and then we can go do whatever you want Buster: I love you Rio: I love you more Buster: You reckon? Rio: Yep Rio: You said I shouldn't be competitively rude so Rio: Channeling my 💪 into this instead Buster: Well, get through breakfast and I'll prove you wrong about something for the first time in ages Rio: You're on, babe Buster: And I'm finally on my way back too Buster: Try not to swoon again when I walk in, like Rio: 😏 Do my best Rio: I am proper hank so, always a good excuse Buster: Until I catch you Buster: There'd be no excusing that reaction Rio: Sure everyone knows you love the heroics Buster: You're literally the only person who knows that, babe Buster: I asked Chlo if she was okay and she reacted like I asked if her mum was down to fuck Rio: She's a bitch Rio: and her mum would be so lucky Buster: 😂 Buster: This is why I love you more Rio: Seriously Rio: don't feel bad for trying to do the right thing Rio: even if we were both bitches about it Buster: I do though Buster: I feel like such an idiot Rio: I know but Rio: that's just how she wants you to feel rn Rio: and fuck that Buster: My mum basically told me to walk away, even if the kid's mine Buster: Maybe I should Rio: I don't think you can decide that 'til it's here Rio: it'll be real then Buster: It's real now though Buster: A real fucking mess Rio: I know Rio: but that's her, not the kid Buster: I really hope this kid ain't mine 'cause if it is, I don't want her raising it Rio: Yeah Rio: Maybe it'll change her, like Rio: failing that, she can get a decent nanny right Buster: Yeah Buster: Right again, I guess Rio: Bit strong Rio: Trying to be positive though Buster: Nah, you're coming for my nerd 👑 like Rio: Never! Rio: Ain't offering my services, no Mary Poppins, like Buster: You kind of are, to be fair Rio: Slide into her DMs with my CV then Rio: much appreciated 😂 Buster: You're welcome Rio: Fool Buster: Such a sweet talker, babe Rio: It's just mental Buster: Do you wanna elaborate or nah? Rio: You got the gist don't lie Rio: that you're having a baby Rio: might be Buster: Yeah Buster: I mean, I doubt anyone's gonna be that shocked when they find out but Rio: Yeah but Rio: doesn't mean it ain't Buster: Obviously Buster: But it means something that neither of my parents batted an eyelid at that part of the story Buster: Only the who, like Rio: I mean, yeah Rio: if they were putting money on a twin Rio: Definitely more prepared for this convo Buster: Hilarious Rio: You gotta admit Rio: that would be way more dire Buster: Way more drama Rio: I can't handle it Rio: never mind your poor parents Rio: taking one for the team, babe Buster: All about those heroics Rio: I knew Rio: Not to brag Buster: Keep my secrets, babe Buster: I'm back now, get your poker face on Rio: 😐 Rio: So serious Rio: so ready Buster: You and me both Buster: I'm so ready for you I'm not even hungry anymore Rio: 😣 Baby Rio: Don't try and break me already Buster: 🤐

[darthsassacre]

❤ OC’s first time working with a force-sensitive - Dealer's Choice

(lord have mercy I have so many non-Force sensitive OC and so many Force Sensitives… whose shenanigans do I write about… also you’re my new favorite person, just for asking. My inbox has been gathering cobwebs for weeks XD)

“Of all the people to work with, I gotta work with a Jedi?”

Grandmaster Satele Shan resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “Yes, Captain. I can assure you, Master Kela is highly competent.”

“But a Jedi?” Aidoann repeated. Behind her, Risha snickered and quickly covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

“I am a Jedi, if you do recall.”

“Yeah, but you’re a cool Jedi. Like that cool professor whose class everyone loves because it’s so chill.”

Satele didn’t even know what to say in response, so she just said “Master Kela will be at Carrick Station in seventeen hours” and ended the conversation.

[=][=][=]

“Captain Peatris?”

Aidoann started, “Who in the- oh, Jedi… wait, very small Jedi.”

The woman, no, the girl who met her was a small dark-skinned human with pure white hair tied back in a braid. Her robes marked her as an obvious Jedi, as did the lightsaber on her belt. Behind her was a rather large Trandoshan with a mean-looking rifle.

“Uh, yeah, Captain Peatris was my grandfather. I’m Aidoann. You must be Master Kela.”

“Yes. But please, call me Soronae.”

“Cool. I’d, uh, offer you a drink, but you look too young.”

Kela went to say something, but the Trando hissed something in his language and she… wait, was that a pout? This Jedi Master was pouting? Hells, Aidoann was in for it now.

[=][=][=]

Sanra was pacing and it was driving everyone up a wall. Nelandra was twitching, Ko'rel was trying to ignore everyone, Corso was talking with Bowdaar and Guss, and Risha… Risha was glaring. At Sanra. Which suggested incoming drama.

“Please sit down,” Master Kela said calmly. Her eyes were closed, but clearly some sorta Jedi mind-thing was at play here.

“Why a Jedi?” Sanra finally snarled, rounding on Aidoann. The smuggler captain took a moment to gather her thoughts before turning to the angry Sith Pureblood.

“Because the pay is good and this is supposed to be an easy task. Just make sure the goods get on this ship and get the hell outta there.”

Sanra huffed, “We don’t need a damned Jedi to do that.”

“Actually, we kinda do,” Ko'rel scratched around one of his horns as he spoke, clearly more than a bit nervous to be speaking up when Sanra was having a snit.

“He is correct,” Kela nodded, “The contact who has the goods has been directed to only give the goods to a Jedi, for safety’s sake.”

“Is it some sort of artifact?” Risha asked before Aidoann waved her hand.

“Right, all of you, shut it. We’ll be there in a few hours regardless of what crew opinions are. We get in, get out, get paid.”

Sanra sat with a muted snarl and glared at Kela. Aidoann still had no idea what Sanra’s problem with Force users was, but she frankly didn’t care. She had too many other problems to deal with.

[=][=][=]

Simple and easy. Words Aidoann was growing to hate, rather quickly.

“Who the hell forgot to warn us about this mess?” she shouted as she ducked behind a rock formation, wincing as blaster bolts chipped bits of rock off on the other side.

“I don’t know. Clearly this was well-planned,” Kela shouted back, her blazing ice-blue lightsaber deflecting as many bolts as the small Jedi could manage.

Nelandra was sniping, Sanra was just blasting anything in sight, as was Bowdaar. Risha and Ko'rel were waiting on the ship, with Corso as the pilot.

“Really wish Akaavi was here right now,” Aidoann muttered, wondering why she had agreed to let the Mando run off somewhere.

“Kriff!” Sanra snarled as a blaster bolt slammed into her arm, sending her spinning to the ground.

Kela’s Trando friend took over shooting as Kela ducked down to hand Sanra a kolto pack and use some sorta Force thing to help.

“Got any tricks that could help?” Aidoann called over.

“Yeah,” Kela replied, “This!”

The Jedi let her blade fall as she lifted her hands, closing her eyes to focus. The ground rumbled and Aidoann winced. This kid was gonna get them all killed.

She ducked behind her rock when something hurtled past her head and didn’t look back up until Kela dropped her arms and heaved a sigh. Aidoann cautiously peeked over her rock and her eyes widened.

“Damn…,” she muttered as she gazed at the destruction before her. Rocks and boulders were scattered everywhere, many clearly having been strategically maneuvered to land on people. It was… nasty, to say the least.

She was distracted as Kela suddenly fell to her knees, gasping.

“You alright, kid?”

The girl looked up, tears in her eyes, and said, “I really, really hate having to do that. B-but we need this cargo and we don’t have much time and-”

Aidoann stopped her before she could hyperventilate and said, “Easy there. Let’s go get that cargo, yeah?”

Kela nodded and stood, her Trando friend helping. Aidoann couldn’t remember his name, Qess? Fess? Something like that.

Sanra heaved herself to her feet and gazed at the Jedi as the strange pair of large Trando and small Jedi picked their way across the debris-strewn field.

“Maybe she’s not half-bad,” the Pureblood said grudgingly before following. Aidoann chuckled and shook her head.

Yeah. Maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all.

#swtor #OC: Aidoaan Peatris #OC: Soronae Kela #in which so many fucks aren't given

[voidfell]

God since my hyperfixation has been minor characters and OC's I guess I have to do a PLOTTING / INBOX CALL and make content myself.

Mozenrath

Hugo

Gal

Alastor

Give this post a like and I'll hop into DM's to plot something, or go through your meme tag after work and send some memes from my kids! Feel free to specify on both ends. If you've already filled out my Interest Tracker then I'll have an idea of who to send to you.

#(I am so bad at starters but memes don't require set up!!) #✧˖*°࿐ Lord Mozenrath // he gave his RIGHT HAND for power. #✧˖*°࿐ Hugo Nystrom // i can feel the WIRES closing in. #✧˖*°࿐ Gal Alvarez // i'm not just your AVERAGE JANE. #✧˖*°࿐ Alastor // the RADIO DEMON’S in town. #✧˖*°࿐ INBOX CALL // dealers choice. it ME. i am the DEALER. #✧˖*°࿐ PLOTTING CALL // i am but a SIMPLE MAN peddling my WARES. #✧˖*°࿐ OOC // ROAD WORK ahead? uh i sure HOPE so.

[voidfell]

General Tags

#✧˖*°࿐ OOC // ROAD WORK ahead? uh i sure HOPE so. #✧˖*°࿐ PROMPTS //ooooh what does THIS button do? #✧˖*°࿐ ANSWERED // uwu. hope that answered your QUESTION. #✧˖*°࿐ ANONYMOUS // what’s up SPECS? #✧˖*°࿐ PROMOTION // go GO. follow these dudes! #✧˖*°࿐ SELF PROMOTION // oops i did it AGAIN. #✧˖*°࿐ QUEUE // am i HERE? probably NOT. #✧˖*°࿐ STARTER CALL // specify muse or SUBMIT to the RANDOMIZER. #✧˖*°࿐ INBOX CALL // dealers choice. it ME. i am the DEALER. #✧˖*°࿐ PLOTTING CALL // i am but a SIMPLE MAN peddling my WARES. #✧˖*°࿐ OPEN THREAD // just THROWING THIS out there. #✧˖*°࿐ MUSIC // don’t stop DANCING don’t dare STOP. #✧˖*°࿐ AU IDEAS // cursed ALL OF THEM. cursed. #✧˖*°࿐ WISHLIST // sometimes DREAMS DON’T come true. #✧˖*°࿐ DASH COMM // what the FRESH HELL is going on NOW? #✧˖*°࿐ DASH GAMES // i’m just a HOE for QUIZES. #✧˖*°࿐ CRACK // this is nonsense INCARNATE. #✧˖*°࿐ PSA // ayo this MIGHT be IMPORTANT. #✧˖*°࿐ TEST MUSE // let’s see who STICKS AROUND. #✧˖*°࿐ POTENTIAL MUSE // i’ve been THINKING okay? #✧˖*°࿐ INCOMING MUSE // look it twas INEVITABLE. #✧˖*°࿐ SECRET MENU // they’re here in SPIRIT.