#and this person had the Audacity to be like im supposed be taking a heat suppressant while my alphas out of town

[poppy-metal]

Oh Poppy what do you think woldve happened after the tribbing/trash can kicking heart break incident?? What would’ve gone through Jordan’s mind for the following weeks and how would they have started to interact?

under a cut because i let my fingers fly

no because its definitely a turning point in your relationship, because how do you come back from that? jordan's been cruel to you many times before but this takes the cake. i mean, this is your body after all, its not just an instrument they can strum. you've learned by then, a little by being around them so much, what gets under their skin. so you ignore them after that. even though you're burning up inside and you want to scream and yell at them for being so careless with your feelings, want to shake them and tell them you're sorry they've had to work so hard and for so long with no acknowledgement from their parents or their peers, you know it must suck and be lonely and you know how high they've built their walls to keep from getting hurt, but its no excuse. its no excuse to hurt you that way, or to treat you like the enemy when you've done nothing but be their biggest ally. you suck it all up and tuck it deep and just go through the motions of practice, you don't meet jordans eye or talk to them at all.

for jordans part, its torture. they're already wrapped in guilt, but also a sick sense of satisfaction. satisfaction at being the first to be between your legs and make you feel like that - and as a woman, no less. they'd gotten to feel that slick heat between your legs and finally make you feel half of what they felt everyday around you, the heat, the frenzy, the passion. but they hate themselves because jordan knows they're a cunt. an asshole. they're not unaware of the kind of person they are. you dont grow claws like theirs and not realize they're there. and they feel like they stole something from you, something that probably should have gone to someone better. but then again, why shouldn't they have taken what they wanted? its half your fault anyway, for forcing this desire on them.

still, they dont expect you to ignore them. they'd been prepared for your simpering eyes, your frowns and your trembling lips and your betrayed gaze. they'd been prepared to brush you off, but you're the one doing the brushing. jordan li has never been brushed off a day in their life, not since their parents, they've made sure of that, because they fucking hate the feeling. makes it feel like there are ants under their skin. itchy and twitchy and fucking irritating and distracting.

you're not supposed to be mad at them.

"leave me alone, jordan" you tell them cooly, when they corner you later, you drain a bottle of water and jordan watches the way your throat works, lip curled because you're wearing one of their fucking hickeys on your neck and you have the audacity to act like you're too busy to talk to them.

"what the fuck is your problem," they step into your space. one hand coming up to grip your arm to stop you from taking another sip. you chance a glance at them and see their glare. dark eyes like two onyx flames. "kinda hard to do a duet performance when your partner is on the other side of the fucking studio all day."

you want to shake out of their grip but think that would give away too much emotion. so you just shrug, even if goosebumps are dancing across your skin at them being so close. "there are some solo scenes that dont require us to work together. think im gonna focus on those this week."

their jaw works, and you try hard not to think about their lips and how they'd felt on your skin. your neck, your throat, parting to tell you dirty things like how good you felt.

"dont fuck with me, freshmen. is this about last weekend?"

its a struggle not to react to the mere acknowledgement of the act that took place. when you finally look at them, their eyes flit over your face, like they're trying to gauge your reaction, taking in every feature of your face like they'd been starved of it, and you realize this is the first you've looked at them head on since that night.

they're so beautiful. it hurts.

you look away, "last weekend?"

playing dumb never worked with jordan. you should have known they wouldn't let it slide, even now.

"when i fucked you -"

"that wasn't sex," you protest meekly. not that you're an expert, far from it, in fact. but sex as far as you knew from books and movies had always required penatration, and nothing had gone - inside you.

jordan snorts. they step closer and now your back is against the full length mirrors that line the studio walls. they tower over you in this form, masculine energy pouring from them and making your mouth water. they always smell so good, something sharp and crisp, that made you want to lean into them.

"is that what you've been telling yourself all week? that it didn't matter because i didn't fuck you with my cock?"

you hate how the crude words make you flush, hate that you can't just not react and stay stoic like they seem to be able to. except, well, they aren't acting very stoic today you suppose. in fact, you notice their chest rising and falling inches from your own heaving chest. their pecs straining against the tight black nylon of their costume. that stupid fucking pearl chain necklace nestled where it always is.

"dont - we dont need to talk about it-"

one hand comes up next to your head against the glass, half trapping you. you crane your neck up to meet their eyes, a mistake, because of how intensely they're looking down at you. like you're prey all over again.

"i thought we shoulnd't, but now im realizing some things got lost in translation," they say softly, their other hand coming up to twine a strand of your hair that had fallen from your bun around their finger. "sex can be alot of things, freshie, not all of it means i have to be inside you, though-" they rub the strand between their fingers, their knuckle just barely skimming the skin of your clavicle, "- i've definitely thought of splitting you open on my cock."

heat blooms everywhere. across your body, in your stomach, pooling between your thighs.

"jordan," you hiss, your facade finally cracking. your wide eyes pleading with them, for you dont know what. for them to stop, for them to keep going. all of it and none of it. "i thought this is what you wanted - i, you left - im trying - im trying to let it go."

"yeah, i know. and i should let you." for once they sound sincere. almost remorseful. they grip your chin with their fingers, tild your head up. you watch some of their hair fall across their forehead and you want to push it back for them but you're frozen. "if i was a good person i would. but im not - im not a good person."

their hand next to your head slips down, until they grab your hand, interlacing your fingers with theirs. you feel the metal of their rings press into your skin and you cant pull away, even if you wanted to.

"you can't ignore me like that again."

you feel some spark come back to you, "you deserved it. after - after what you did -"

"but it wasn't sex right?"

you fluster, unsure now, "i - we - it was just - "

"its okay, sweetheart." you fumble immediately, the petname washing over you like a warm wave. a cotton candy cloud floating you to the sky. why should you be angry? "you obviously have alot to learn. how sex works between two women, first of all."

what are words anymore.

they grin then, and it feels like trouble, like the start to a whole new chapter of problems and heartache and thrills and pleasure.

"you're gonna come home with me tonight. and after i pop that cherry of yours with my cunt, you can tell me if you still feel like a virgin."

#ask #jordan li x reader #jordan li smut #toxic!ballet jordan #will reader ever learn #probably not #thus begins jordan and readers 'teach me about sex' era #wherein jordan is slightly nicer but still toxic #under the guise of helping you understand sex #but they're already in too deep

[ursbearhug]

THAT ONE MOTHERFUCKING TIME I *DON'T* NEED TO GO INTO THE OFFICE NUMBER 7 THERE IS NO MOTHERFUCKING QUEUE TO IT! Are you FUCKING kidding me?

Also I want to somehow ramble about that stupid clown class we have, for some godsforsaken reason, on classical studies of all places; social campaigns.

To pass the class we have to prepare an entire campaign, down to a t, with all the stupid ass details, like cost, where, when, what form et cetera. So in the fit of rage, since this class is blatant and outrageous waste of my time and braincells, I made almost finished plan (without the cringe details, because literally nobody gives a shit) about teaching boys how to sew. This alluding to this one tweet where a guy jokes about girls learning how to do make up rather than cook - since he can't or won't eat foundation - and getting clapped by a girlie wishing death upon mankind when they die out of starvation because they refuse to use their own two hands to prepare their own meal. Though the focus was on boys mainly, I wouldn't turn down other interested. As this thing is also a group project that part of it has been lost in the translation.

I personally think her social justice warrior brain would overheat, combust and explode if I as much as suggest that men are fucking stupid and treated like children, no matter their age, status or occupation; and should not be spoonfed and treated extra nicely till the heat death of the universe. Sitting through most if not all of her lectures truly feels like Virtue Signaling up to whazoo. I don't know. I don't feel the need to brag about how good of a person I am if it brings nothing to the conversation. I fail to see these as example either, since example is meant to show correlation or similarity between situations.

But she also called this project 'repetetive' because somebody else in other group had similar one. Okay, and? Ever heard about panantropolic ideas? And even if, I was on this turf first because these kids are 18. So if somebody's supposed to adapt to others, then it's not going to be me. I will be cringe boomer in this case. And also also literally who the fuck cares? I'm trying to pass this class in as little effort and as quickly as humanly possible. Miss me with your originality complex, I'm classical student, I've never heard of it. Take your cringe ass romantic (the period, not the quality) ideas out of my face, you fucking cringe normie.

Cringe ass subject for cringe people. You can't change my mind.

One hour update;

You'd think, or at least assume, that with how 'progressive' today's society is, talking to children wouldn't be such a forgein concept and "ugh so 2016". But it seems like talking to children is still as unattainable and unfathomable as it used to. Maybe instead of forcing your child off of the door frame and have them screem their lungs off in horror, sit down with them and talk about their feelings and fears. Hospital can be scary but doesn't have to be. Talk with them about the procedure. A lot of our fears are really blown out by unknowable and inexperience. For instance; needles don't hurt nearly as much as people make it out to hurt, but that doesn't make them painless either. Yes doing certain thing hurts or is really uncomfortable, but it can get worse untreated. Children are really smart and they can understand human speech, so maybe utilize it and talk with your kids about whatever and everything. Hospital visit really doesn't have to be nightmare fuel.

I don't know the time update:

I think more people, who are not cis men, could use some of the delusion and audacity of most generic white man. "Oh nobody would date me". Believe im yourself sweetcakes. There are like at least 10 alpha males for every shy beans like you, that never have and never will satisfy a woman, let alone be able to form normal, healthy and flourishing relationship with anybody. And also remember that endgame is either; crush your enemies, watch them tremble and hear the lamentations of their widows or having a family. It's pretty much the same.

I have finished my healing process. With the stamp and all. I guess I just have to learn to live with the massive scar it has left.

#will delete later #percy does things

[devinwolfi]

omegaverse is officially my new favorite tiktok meme

#whole ass just saw a tiktok of some dude being all concerned abt the covid vaccine #and he said his doc said it might interfere w other medications #and this person had the Audacity to be like im supposed be taking a heat suppressant while my alphas out of town #i SCREAMED #i genuinely cannot #anyways credit to goodbye.eli on tiktok i guess lmao #omegaverse

[gaiuswrites]

yoga!din thoughts:

they've been fucking around for awhile, but only in the studio. never beyond the studio doors, not even in the cramped, single-person bathroom across the hall. their relationship is purely physical—probably couldn't even consider it fwb. he likes her, is irritated by her, likes the smoothness of her pussy. she likes him, is fascinated by him, likes the rigidness of his cock. it doesn't go much further than that.

that all changes when they run into each other at the grocery store.

I-

christ on a cracker here we go. I’m ready to die now. Cause of death, yoga!Din oh NO-

This... I have no idea what any of this is, but Jess and I have been having a good ol’ time with it. I also want to give a shout out to Rachel for always being a rock in these unprecedented times and taking interest in this main man and I’ll probably be sending you similar messages for your masseuse au to torture you and im not even a little sorry about it

(warnings: SMUT, spanking, language, so pls minors, politely, go home thanks)

She always does this—why does she always do this? 

She drifts down the aisles with the practiced effort of a trapeze artist, juggling the load of groceries bundled to her chest.

Get a cart. Just get a damn cart—a basket, something.

But no. She doesn’t. It happens every time: she goes in for one item—maybe two—and two turns to three and three turns to four, and suddenly they’ve multiplied like rabbits and she’s got half the store in her arms.

Trail mix from the bulk bins, almond milk, coffee grounds, bananas, spirulina powder, those delicious chickpea chips that were buy-one-get-one—how was she supposed to just walk past that—spinach, tofu, zucchini noodles, salmon fillets—

And she nearly drops it all when she spots him. Dark hair, dark eyes.

She stalls out, puttering to a halt. He’s reaching into the frozen meats section, rifling through the various cold cuts. She’d recognize the yawn of his back anywhere, the slope of that broad plane— his arms too, how his tricep cuts across the tawny gold. The shapes they can make. 

The positions they can bend her into.

Maybe it’s best if she just turns around now, sneaks away, pretends like none of this ever happened—she could do that. That would be easy—the easier of the two options, to be sure, because the alternative sounds terrifying and messy, and maybe if she just backs up nice and slow—

Din wheels his cart forwards and glances up. Shit.

He’s not sure what he’s even looking at at first. His feet slow, and there’s a groove creased into his forehead, brow ticking down. She’s here— right here in front of him. How can she be here? How can she be anywhere but where he knows her best—knows her at all? Inside that room, woven limbs and sweaty skin on glossed wood floors. How can she be here—outside that sacred space—in his fucking grocery store?

They stare at each other. She breaks first.

“Hi,” she mumbles out, beguiling.

“Hey,” Din responds, gruffer than he means.

“Hi,” she says again, pressing her lips together to hide a smile.

A grin tugs at him too, but he tampers it; they let a silent, pregnant beat pass between them and then—

“What are you doing he-“ “Have you been here befo-“

They’re speaking over each other—nervous and out of step—and they share a huffed chuckle. They’ve never been this before. They’ve always been physical and brash and bold and they’ve never needed words—they’ve shown each other exactly what they meant and what they wanted through touch—and now, when they need them most, they’re at a loss.

“Just getting some supplies,” she answers him with a shrug, causing one of her many parcels to slip from the precarious tower she’s constructed, and Din, ever agile, catches it before it strays too far. 

“My hero,” she quips dryly, gratefully, as he carefully places the package of tofu on top of the heap. He makes a face, wrinkling his nose. “Is that stuff any good?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” she smirks.

He’s closer to her now, less than an arm’s length away, and Din’s eyes flit to the fading mark at the swallow of her neck, peeking up from the collar of her shirt— the mark he left there just days prior, when she ground down on him, supple frame speared by his cock, rocking frantic and needy up and down on him, whimpering hushed noises into the empty studio. His hand splayed the width of her back, cradling her to him as she rode Din, stretching around him fucking perfectly. 

“Fuck, this pussy takes me so well,” he seethed through a clenched jaw, her breasts rutting against his chest with each bounce of her hips. He growled. “You’re so - shit - you’re tight-” 

Din gave her ass a sharp smack before pawing at it, grabbing a fistful of the flesh there and she moaned— she fucking moaned, depraved and oaky, and knocked her head back, lips falling open and eyes rolling shut. Din groaned at the sight—this woman, this fucking thorn in his goddamn side—sheathed around him, writhing as he fucked up into her—and she had the audacity to moan like that. 

“You like that?” He slapped her ass again and she whimpered, clawing at him, tangling her fingers into his hair, nails scraping over his scalp. He had to resist the urge to shudder—snapping his mouth tight around a whine.

Normally, she’d meet him with some sort of resistance. She was cheeky and smarmy and they both knew it—it’s a game they played—perfectly balanced, perfectly opposed. But she couldn’t help it—she was too far gone, too fucked out, and the words unspooled from her lips like yarn. 

“Yes-yes—fuck, Din- please.”

That earned her another swift crack, the pillowed flesh prickling red from the sting of his palm, and it tore a guttural sound out of her, wrecking through her pretty throat. “God, you’re a filthy little thing. So f-fucking filthy for me-“ 

He ripped her orgasm out of her, his fingers snaked between their bodies, furiously working at her clit in tight, wet circles. It felt like a punch to his gut, as her pussy clamped down around him and gushed. 

When he finally came, spilling into her slicked cunt, he had to bite down on her neck just to keep from fucking shouting. 

He tears his gaze off the bruise, returning to her face—and it’s hardly any better. The corner of her mouth has turned up, just barely, the whisper of it wry and aching. That look—that infuriating, debilitating glint in her eyes—has settled and it makes his cock twitch against his jeans.

“Having a barbecue?” she asks, nodding to his cart, the beer and buns and patties there.

He clears his throat, “Something like that.”

Fenn insisted on it—’I’m not wasting the perfect weather. We’re all doing something, whether you like it or not’— He could only fight her on it for so long. Lesser men have tried and failed, and he knew it best to quit while he was ahead.

“Sounds fun. It’s supposed to be a beautiful weekend.”

“Yeah, so I hear.” Din has to fight the roll of his eyes.

The spell had been broken. They’d spirited themselves away—lying to each other and themselves—as if their tryst existed above consequence, above ramification—like they weren’t even real people. Just ideas, ideas they’d fuck and then suddenly and conveniently vanish—out of sight, out of mind; would disappear as the sun that set on them, blurring lines into the dark.

But he sees her here, clumsy willow arms and cotton tee and cut-off shorts and those beautiful fucking legs he loves wrapped around him so much, and she’s glowing despite the ugly fluorescent sheen cast up from the linoleum tile and—

It’s different. She’s different. Fuller. He knows her now—like this. And he can’t unknow her.

His throat bobs. Maybe he should ask her if she’s free. If she’s got plans. Maybe—

“I’ll see you on Wednesday then,” she says, something unreadable in her voice.

Din swallows. He nods. “Wednesday.”

Oh fuck, he likes her.

She tips her head to him, grinning something small, and shuffles off towards the register.

He watches her go, eyes following as she rounds a corner and slips away. She can feel them on her, his eyes, boring into her backside—all the way to her car, through the town, up to her driveway, into her kitchen where she cupboards her groceries—she feels him, the heavy heat of him, melting against her spine.

@djarinsbeskar @frannyzooey @pedros-mustache

#yoga!din #I am unwell #good bye #modern!din #din djarin smut #mando smut #I ain’t sorry #din djarin x female oc #mandalorian smut #thirsty thursday #amirite

[courtlyharlequin]

Hey!! I was wondering if i can have a candied rose frappuccino with floyd please. Thanks 😊

Sugar Addict

Warning(s): mild spice, lowkey spicy ending

A/N: I went feral. What is plot? I ended up writing more than expected. Also, I was too lazy to proofread so I apologize for my horrible grammar. Feel free to correct me! I should probably get a beta reader... 

Context: This is an AU. Yes, a coffeeshop AU, but some things are different. These characters are aged up and NRC is actually a college.

It was unexplainable, this feeling. Twilight. The sun was setting. Traffic ensued streets as people poured out of work and into their vehicles, all with one destination: home. But for you, home was the last place you wanted to go. You were a student who did not need to fret over something like a job. You had the convenience of asking for a ride or traveling by foot to reach local destinations not far from your oh so prestigious school. At this moment, at twilight, you were experiencing the convenience of the latter. Well, a normal person would not call it a convenience. These days made taking a stroll an absurd pastime. But right now, it was both a convenience and a pastime. The roads were clogged by a massive sea of cars. Your nose crinkled at the stench of gasoline. Choosing to traverse by foot was more pragmatic. You were in a rush as well. Your destination might close any minute now!

From the inside of any of the vehicles on the street, you were akin to a hooligan. A scrambling, mad hooligan. Not only were you running in the opposite direction of where these cars were going, you were also running as your life depended on it. Therefore, you were a crazy person who was running into the city suburbs at a somewhat late hour rather than going home. Mothers in said vehicles shook their heads in dismay, praying their children were safe at home. But, you could not care any less. Night Raven College’s headmaster was very lenient on curfews and was susceptible to bribery if all else fails. But to be fair, your destination was not something to be frowned upon. It was something to laugh at, really. The place you were so desperate to get to was none other than a café.

More specifically, Café Rosé . Cheesy, chessy, yes, you were aware. The café was notorious for their supposed love potion of a latte, but you weren’t coming for that. You wanted to try their Candied Rose Frappuccino. You were a lover of all sweets; You could never live with yourself if you didn’t try it. Of course, this coffee shop was not going anywhere nor was this beverage a limited one. You simply were in the mood for it. It was craving, a whim, a last minute decision.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the café’s exterior walls. With one deep breath, you pushed the rose-tinted glass door open. The chime signaled your entrance. You braced yourself for a  barista to question your hazed, flushed state… but it never came. Still heaving, you scanned the shop. You made your way to the counter to check for employees in the back room.

Thud!

“Hey, Shrimpy! Café’s closed,” a voice glowered.

You spun your heel, making eye contact with a barista with a disheveled appearance– his aquamarine hair was slightly unkempt, his tie was unraveled and dangled loosely around his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned down to the point where his collar bone was exposed with his sleeves rolled up which furthermore accentuated his lean yet muscular figure. It was all too much to take in. He put his weight onto the nearest table. Ah, the thud came from a chair he just stacked… but nevermind that-!! The moment he moved into that position, he exposed a bit of his cleavage. Hot damn he might be lean at first glance, but he was built like a Greek god. This should be illegal! A barista should not be dressing– let alone be looking– like that. Everyone would suffer from a cardiac arrest from such a heartthrob! You quickly averted your attention to the café’s schedule.

“The business hours sign says you guys close at seven. It’s six fifty-two right now,” you said, holding up your phone.

“Close enough. Get lost.”

He walked over to you suavely, leaning over you and against the door frame to flip the open-closed sign over so that it’s closed side faced the streets. It was meant to be a gesture of mockery and intimidation, but holy hell… you were flustered more than anything. He was tall from afar but up close he was huge!! You even got a better look at his chest. Well defined, if you don’t say so yourself. Wait–

You shoved him back, “Not even for a to-go order?”

“Nope. Don’t feel like it.”

“But you’re not closed yet!”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Why?”

“What?”

“I asked you ‘why’?”

“Can’t you just come back tomorrow and let me call it a day? I’m tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I ran all the way here just to get something–”

“Should’ve done it earlier,” he shrugged, returning to his chore.

“Okay. Fine. Is there anyone else here to serve me? Since you’re too ‘tired’?”

“Sorry, Shrimpy, but they all went home.”

“Ugh! Don’t call me something that makes us seem so familiar. I’m not that short anyway...” you huffed.

He snickered, walking behind the register, “Alright then, Shr-im-p-y~! What would you like to order that you just had to come in at the last minute today?”

While you were relieved he gave into serving you a drink, the way he enunciated your unwanted nickname was irksome.

“I’ll have one Candied Rose Frappuccino.”

“Oh thank god it isn’t that latte.”

“You mean the Rosé Latte?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, loudly tapping on the cash register, “Everyone has been flocking here and only ordering that. I’m so tired of making the same order everyday.”

“Sorry, I’m not into hot beverages. Just a person who likes sweets.”

“Cute,” he cooed, handing you your receipt.

You watched as he messily wrote “Shrimpy” onto your cup.

“Can I get your name?” you asked.

“My name?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

“Somehow you’re slowly becoming my favorite barista.”

Partially a lie, partially the truth. He was your favorite because he was so fine. You only wanted his name in case you ever decided to write a review on your bitter first meeting with him or if you came across the manager. Petty, yes, but it annoyed you that much.

“Floyd, Floyd Leech,” he grinned.

You checked the receipt and sat down at the barstools in front of the barista’s worktable, watching him intently as he began to work on your order. Well, half your attention was actually on his hand movements. Your mind was having an internal battle about how shameful you were to fantasize about his back muscles, mentally undressing him. The fact that there were only you two in the coffeehouse did not help either. The silence, at its surface, was calming, but, at its core, it was awkward. With the occasional clinks of utensils and the sound of coffee being brewed and blended into a frappuccino,  the lack of noise left your mind to wander.

“Just because he’s good looking does not make up for the fact that he was rude,” you chided yourself.

Floyd cocked his head: “Hey. What are you staring at?”  

He looked behind him as if there was actually something of interest. You saw your drink in his hand. He held it close to his chest, withholding it, waiting for your answer.

“Oh? Um.. nothing? I was just zoning out. I’m tired from running all the way here.”

“Shrimpy’s no fun,” he pouted.

“My name is (y/n), not Shrimpy.”

“You’re short, jumpy, and huggable like a shrimp~”

“I am not that short!”

“Oh-!!! You remind me of Goldfish. You both get so mad for some reason,” he laughed.

“Listen here–”

The barista took a swig of your order. He didn’t take the dome-shaped lid out. He didn’t even drink it with a straw. He just… straight up… put his lips on the lid and drank the contents from the rim. You halted your rant, appalled by his audacity.

“You talk too much, Shrimpy.”

In this total silence, someone, if there were someone here, would have heard your sanity and patience snapped.

“Listen here, Floyd Leech. That was awfully rude of you. Actually, from the beginning, you were so rude! From getting into my personal bubble to calling me names when I told you to stop. And now you drink my order? And right in front of me too?! So, so, rude-!!! I just–”

“Wow. What an expansive vocabulary you have,” he glared, twiddling with the collar of his shirt and somehow exposing more of his collarbone.

You leaned over the counter, reaching for your beverage, heat traveling up your cheeks, “I’m not done yet! Just because you’re hot does not mean you can dress like that and automatically get a free pass to do these things! Do you have any idea how distracting that was?? Now–wHAAA!!”

You pounced at him. Your toes hung on the edge of the barstool, your left arm wrapped around Floyd’s neck, and your right arm stretched out in an attempt to reach the drink in Floyd’s hand. Much to your annoyance, he raised it higher than you could ever hope to reach. If he took anymore steps back, you would most likely flop onto the barista’s side of the table face-first. With the drink in his left hand, his weight (and yours) was shifted onto his right arm which conveniently propped itself against the countertop behind him. You wondered what people on the road thought when they saw what was going on inside the café.

It was early evening with a decent amount of cars on the street before the storefront. Nearly twenty minutes since you came into the café and here you are– without your order, curfew approaching steadily, and no sign of getting your frappuccino anytime soon. Instead, you were sprawled across the counter, a test of your flexibility and modesty.

“I didn’t really think Shrimpy was this bold, this naughty,” Floyd chuckled.

Ah shit. Your anger got the best of you. Your verbal filter was removed and all of your thoughts slipped past your conscious and common sense. His sly grin did not help at all. Your close proximity enhanced your blush. The way you clung onto him caused his shirt to slide off his left shoulder and with the position you were in, you had a front seat to all his glory. What a sticky wicket this was.

“I just wanted something sweet to drink,” you panted, fisting his shirt in your petite palms, frustration washing over you.

You were on the verge of tears. Floyd sighed, lowering the cup just a bit, and took a few steps back as he carefully let you slide onto the barista’s side of the counter. However, your beverage was still out of reach.

“You’re such a snowflake,” he mumbled.

You clung to him, still, using him as leverage to reach your order, “Am not. This wouldn’t have happened if you just let me have my coffee!”

“You mean this hell of a sugary confection??”

“Yes? I mean I wouldn’t know because I haven’t even tried it yet,” you grunted, jumping at it like a fish trying to catch the bait.

“Oi, (y/n), can I kiss you?”

That was the first time he used your actual name instead of “Shrimpy” ever since you met. You would rejoice, but the following words were out of the question. His tone made it sound more like a demand than a request of consent.

“Excuse me?!”

“You wanted to try the drink right?”

“Yes, but it’s right there in your hand! So if you would just let me have it, I’ll stop annoying you!”

“The taste is lingering in my mouth. It’s so sweet. I wanna get rid of it…”

“Get some water.”

He squeezed his right arm around your waist, bringing you closer to his face,  “But I want to kiss you~!”

“Well, since you drank out of it, if you let me have it, then we can have an indirect kiss!”

The temperature of the coffee shop was just unbearable at this point. And worst of all, this was self-inflicted. You didn’t have to tolerate him. Frankly, you should have left the moment he told you the café was “closed”.  You didn’t have to pounce on him and end up in this painstakingly uncomfortable position either. Moreover, you were sweating from embarrassment from your suggestion. An indirect kiss! That was such a childish thing to fret about and here you were, regretting your own words.

“That’s no fun,” Floyd said, taking another sip of your frappuccino.

“Hey–mmpff!!”

Despite how he manhandled you thus far, he kissed you very tenderly. His lips were soft, warm even. As much as you wanted to push him back and scold him for taking away something as precious as your first kiss, you couldn't. Everything just… felt right. Your grip on his shirt loosened. Before, you held them in your palms in anger, a way of intimidation, a sign to show him that you weren’t going to back down even if he was teasing you with no mercy. But now, you held Floyd’s collar to close the space between you two. You were this close to each other, but it wasn’t close enough.

You gasped as he nibbled your lip. Floyd took it upon himself to invite his tongue over to your wet cavern. A sugary substance flooded your taste buds. Ah… he never swallowed your drink.... Not that it mattered. You gulped it in one breath, continuing on with your tango of tongues. If Floyd wasn’t supporting your waist, you might’ve melted away into this temporary bliss. You momentarily broke away from him to catch your breath. The distance between you two was barely five centimeters. He growled lowly, taking two steps forward, pushing you towards the bar. He smashed his lips against yours, a clear sign for you not to do that again. A fire lit in his eyes. Floyd hungrily bit your bottom lip, earning a whimper in response.  Without breaking away from your mouth, only turning his head to take you at a different angle, he hoisted you up and set you and the beverage down on the countertop. Now, with both hands free, he cupped your cheeks. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing his wrists, drawing away his hands.

“W-Wait…” you exhaled.

“...did you not like that?” he cocked his head.

“No... No… I liked it… I liked it a lot… I just… S-Slow down…”

Floyd reached for the ends of your hair, twirling with the strand, “Take your time…”

Perhaps it was purely the heat of the moment or lust, but you judged him too soon. In this brief period of time, he was being considerate of you.  He traced your figure with his eyes, grinning from ear to ear at your bruised lips, bright pink from the dozens of kisses he gave you. You were just as disheveled as he was.

“...More..”

“You sure?”

“I’m thirsty,” you pouted.

Floyd let out a chortle before sipping your coffee, “Alright, then Shrimpy.”

You prepared yourself for yet another rough session. Before he took your lips, he smoothed back his hair, revealing his forehead. The gesture caught you off guard thus you stiffened as he brushed his lips against yours. By gods, it was as if he wasn't even trying to be provocative. Was it possible for someone to be this seductive without actual effort? At this rate, you were going to miss curfew..

“Floyd…” you moaned, intertwining your fingers with his as he pushed you down onto the counter.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry...”

“Floyd… No… T-There’s people watching-!!!”

“So?”

“Does that not bother you?!”

“Not when they’ll know you’re mine~”

You sat up, “I’m a bit too shy for that. A-And I would like for my first time to be private…”

You left the last part trail off in embarrassment, fiddling with his necktie which somehow managed to stay on his person despite everything that just happened.

“Oh? Is Shrimpy a virgin?” he teased.

“So what if I am?!”

“Nothing. Just thought a cute Night Raven College girl like you wouldn’t be since you were really good~”

He earned himself a playful smack on the shoulder to which he responded with a sarcastically scoff. This was so unfair...

“How did you know that I went there?”

“Hmm must be because of the shirt you’re wearing underneath that hoodie,” he said, feigning innocence.

Oh. He’s the perceptive type. You didn’t think much of his ministrations (other than them being tantalizing). It seemed that he took note of every detail about you. At this point, you were crimson as a tomato.

“Also, because I go there as well,” he snickered.

You smacked his shoulder once more.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“Different years, probably.”

“Maybe..”

“Also, I’m always stuck at the Mostro Lounge so you can find me there,” he winked.

“Ahhh! Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Giving me two answers and mixed signals.”

Floyd tilted your head upwards and pecked your lips, holding you as if you were a figure of glass: “What about this is mixed?”

“You were terribly rude before… and you probably just want someone to bed with for the night,” you puffed your cheeks.

How your body was betraying you… Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and the fervor was not going to dissipate anytime soon.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time, (y/n).”

He raised your hand and pressed a chaste kiss on each individual knuckle.

Oh god. Your heart couldn’t bear it anymore. The way your name rolled off the tip of his tongue made honey taste like summer– hot, overwhelming, but still something to look forward to.

“Since when?” you exhaled.

“Since your first visit to the Lounge.”

He switched to your other hand, continuing the ritual.

“I’ve only been there once.”

“You were such a cute Shrimpy that I couldn’t forget about you~”

“That can’t be right–”

“You just have to accept it!”

“It doesn’t make up for how you treated me before.”

He placed your hands on his cheek, “Sorry, Shrimpy. The scent you released was too irresistible.”

Instinctively, you sniffed your clothes, “I don’t smell anything.”

“It might be just an eel thing*, then. But just so you know, I’ve been trying to find you for a while now. I’m so happy that I did. You’re mine now, Shrimpy. Your smell is intoxicating,” he cooed, leaning closer to your ear, “It makes me go feral~”

You squealed at his sudden remark, unable to regain your composure. Your words melted into gibberish and murmurs as you buried your face into his chest once more.

“You’re such a creep,” you whined.

“You don’t mean that~”

“I don’t…”

“We should get going before curfew though. Help me clean up, will ya?”

“Okay.”

Floyd planted a kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, Shrimpy.”

That nickname wasn’t as obnoxious as it was before, huh.

“I’ll reward you once we get to my room,” he snickered over his shoulder as he left for the back room.

Wait– WHAT?!?!?

“H-Hold on-!!”

“Relax, Shrimpy, ’m not gonna do anything to you… not yet, anyway. I’m just sayin’ in case we don’t make it before curfew.  Azul needs me for Mostro Lounge tomorrow, he has no choice, but to let me in. If anyone can convince the headmaster, it’s probably him,” he gave you a thumbs up.

“Good to know. But… I’ve been meaning to ask about Mostro Lounge and this café. If you work for Azul then why work here too?”

“He doesn’t pay me. I’m just helping out of obligation.”

“What? How come?”

“He’s my friend?”

“You sound unsure.”

“You made it sound like I’m gullible,” he laughed, stacking the last of the chairs.

“Well? Shall we go, Shrimpy?”

You took his hand without hesitation. This feeling– it was addicting. You only knew him for a less than a day, but it felt right. It felt meant to be... as if you were soulmates. 

Bonus:

“Oya? Floyd, what happened to your back? There’s scratches all over it. Are you alright?”

“ s’nothin’, Jade. I just… had a fun night~”

“Please. You and (y/n) were so loud. Please reserve those kinds of activities for somewhere more private– not a dormitory with thin walls,” Azul chided.

His brother’s eyes widened, but he didn’t question it any further. Jade curtly closed his gym locker and headed out towards the field.

Azul followed in suit with a huff. 

* Note: Female moray eels release an odor in order to attract males to mate with them

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #event fic #cafe rose event #mild spice #god help me

[iamthatmf-donttestme]

WAS ANY OF IT TRUE ???

(wrath and emilia had an argument earlier and the argument is getting them nowhere but neither of them will let it go and would say the other person is right but with a✨twist ✨ at the end

P.S:I WOULDN'T EXACTLY CALL IT A TWIST BUT....HERE YOU GO )

He smirks ..the audacity this demon has !!

"Hush witch you're making a scene out of nothing"

"ok listen demon none of this would be a problem and i wouldn't be yelling if u just say that u are wrong and apologise ".

One of his brows arched perfectly ,tilting his head slightly he said"Hmm ,i don't remember starting this conversa-argument which u are clearly trying to have one with me out of spite"

I scoffed "Out of spite .Curse my already cursed life .You ,demon, very well know that we would not be having this argument if it weren't for you".

"Me??? Im the reason for you wasting my time ???"

"Oh miei dei ...wasting your time !!!Do you think that it is ideal for me that I wanted to waste my time with YOU instead of finding my sister's murderer who might be out there while trying to stay alive in a demon realm- THE HELL ..."my voice trailed off .

I didn't take note of when he started to move towards me with something in his eyes something that i could not decipher his gaze held something so pure ..but with the wicked you can never be sure so i knew i want going to let him off the hook this easily .Hesitantly i spoke ".......for all i know me wasting your time will only save another girl's soul if you've made a similar deal with any one of your brothers like u did with PRIDE "but my words came out in a broken tone .

For all the times i thought that Wrath was the only person i could be with amidst all the folly in life ,the one who ran me a bath with my favourite flowers after LUST broke me even though it was for his own gain but still he was there wasn't he and i still don't know why he did what he did when he knew how much I -

I was pulled away from my thoughts when a pair of big,warm palms covered both of my wrists placing them on his chest ;I can feel his heart pounding against his chest like rain on the windows on those stormy days in SEA AND VINE ;the thought of home bringing more tears .But it incited more anger in me and i knew that it wasn't his doing .I don't know how mama,nonna,papa are doing where they are,and if they're safe . And WRATH reminding me a lot of home .....I've always known that home was not a place but a feeling and he was giving me that ..the wicked !!!the malgavi!!! i should be scared of him shouldn't i?? i shouldn't feel this way ;hes a demon he will make a fool out of me the second he wants to get something from me like a heartless creature like those girls like Vittoria and I still haven't found the murderer but here i am feeling home ,feeling safe in the presence of the demon that broke my trust but i cant help it neither can i stop feeling guilty ...I-

"Do you think it's was easy for my ..is easy for me Emilia ?.." he said ,his words putting a stop to the chaos in my head but at the same time i couldn't help but wonder what he meant so i asked him .

"Breaking your trust ,putting you in a situation where u had to push me away ,being so close to you yet so far from you ???Do u think i want this ??ANY OF THIS ??"

"What do you want then ??"I questioned him.

"YOU .You being near me ,your warmth ,you beautiful smell surrounding me ,your lips saying my name .ANYTHING .I would give anything to have that .Before i made this absurd deal i didn't know how much of a big part you would become of me .But trust me EMILIA i cannot back down from this deal even if i wanted to ...But i will get you out of this ..just trust me ...I will come and get you when the time is right and help you attain you goal until then I pity PRIDE and his servants "he said ."You don't need me protection to tackle the wicked if you just think about their strategy and your reaction as strategy to theirs.Just think rationally ."

"But u promising me that u will get me out of here without being hurt by your brothers is thinking irrationally ,Wrath and that isn't like you- THE DEMON PRINCE OF WAR"

"The thing is ,my dear witchy EMILIA,I cant seem to think rationally when it comes to you which is I know very unlikely me .Do you really want to go back to ITALY ,the human realm .....would you go if you had a chance ???"he asked .

The promises he made the words that came out of his mouth the truth his heavenly beautiful golden eyes reflected ...I couldn't think properly and I started to feel dizzy as his words started echoing through my ears making my heart pound .He was the same WRATH the one who saved me that night in front of me .My fingers caressed his chest right where his heart was pounding underneath my touch .

But before i could say anything i saw a reflection on his golden eyes a figure standing still behind a column without knowing that actual meaning of spying and i couldn't risk it so i said,

"Yes i would but there is no other way not a chance for me to do that so don't waste your precious time on me while you could be cursing the world with your presence". I spat and yanked my hands off from his wrists that held mine over his chest .And after hearing those words he looked ....proud??T he figure seemed to have moved away and Wrath looked restless and i turned to look who that was but Wrath moved forward only to see that there was no one there .

"Congratulations, witch. You are using that small brain of yours I see and you can thank me any time for being that great of a teacher "he said proudly.

"Wrath ,was any of it true ...any one of the words you said to me ...was it true ..or .....??"i trailed off

He opened and closed his mouth .And he closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if choosing his words carefully ,he said,in a vulnerable tone "You will know when the time is right witch ."

"Think rationally wrath .If making promises that you cannot fulfill is your strategy then it is predictable like the sun rising every morning "

Just before he could say anything his brother ,my betrothed,PRIDE's trusted messenger made a dramatic entrance .

WRATH bent down to my ear and whispered "Silly witch ,I don't make promises I cant keep ."I scoffed at that.

"You will see that in the future .....u adorning a throne that doesn't belong to anyone of my brothers and another teacher's tip all your moves are being watched just like we were being ALMOST the entire time " he whispered only for me to hear . ALMOST the entire time what was that supposed to mean ???Before i could ask him about it a large palm rested on my back and i looked to see PRIDE glaring at his brother and WRATH glaring back at him but stopped once he noticed i was watching him and changed his gaze into his signature cold one .

"Prince WRATH spending your time with OUR QUEEN . "PRIDE'S messenger said.

"She maybe BETROTHED to your KING but she is still a member of my house and i always make sure what's mine stays protected"WRATH shrugged.

"Oh Your highness don't you worry she will be protected ...BY YOUR BROTHER "

"Oh for the sake of the goddesses stop it .I don't need any protection from anyone of you .If you two doltish demons think that I need protection remember that I summoned a demon prince on my own and have powers of my own .And if someone needs anyone here keep in mind that you BOTH need me ".

At the sound of my voice ringing through the place PRIDE'S messenger turned completely facing me and WRATH gave me a subtle nod when i made my point .

"It is my order and my honour to keep you safe my queen ."with that pride's messenger moved towards me and held his hand out as a gesture saying after you started walking me down the corridor ,taking me wherever his destination was .I took smaller steps so i could be in the presence of the devil i knew than the one i didnt.

But i couldn't help but wonder if anything ANYTHING wrath said were true .If we were being watched almost throughout our moment and wrath does not make promises he cant keep then when did the spy start spying on us .

I turned to look back at wrath only to see him glaring at messenger knowingly .And the messenger smirked at me .

"Oh don't fuss , my .It was me .All me .You see the KING had a feeling WRATH might be turn you into a weapon of his ,destroying US from the inside turns out and he was right "he gloated ." Prince Wrath calling you by your first name as if he had done than before and will ever consider calling you that let alone calling you with endearments."

I wanted to laugh soo badly at that .He did call me EMILIA by my name in front of fratello Antonio .MY EMILIA he said .Heat rushed to cheeks at that memory.But i did not say anything and continued to played along.

"How long were you there ?" I asked .

"Oh right when he called DEAR WITCHY EMILIA and I knew you had your limpidity intact when you turned him down .Our brilliant Queen ". He said .His words were like a splash of cold water to my face ,i did not have my sanity intact when wrath said that .

"when did u leave and make your appearance again ??" i asked

"Oh i left the second you turned him down ,to go to our KING and tell that his brother thought that he could trick you and came back when i did ".He answered .The thing about the messenger was that he once said he wouldn't lie to if not necessary(i.e if pride approved and that is the necessity-his king's approval) and i was sure that he wasn't lying about this because he thought he won he thought he knew all that happened,his pride at its peak.

But the important thing is that if i had to choose between wrath or pride it will be wrath because devil you know than the devil you dont .And I knew that if I had a way to survive in hell it is to play with pride while still feeling wrath's presence .

When i looked back again at wrath who leaned against a column just few steps away , i only saw the wickedly ,sickening,cunningly beautiful smirk adorning his face like the messenger has just thought what he wanted him to think .

And when he saw me he only gave me an angelic smile making my heart race .

He mouthed 'sono fiero di te' (I'm proud of you ).It was as if him and i had an understanding without words to convey them and i knew that if i am to survive in hell i should be cunning like the rest like weighing in on wrath's impromptu plan to save myself tonight and my freedom which i must have in order to bring justice to the murders of those innocent girls .

AND IM SOO SORRY THAT MY FIRST FIC IS THIS LOONNGG I WAS JUST IN THE MOMENT IG BUT FEEL FREE TO TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT THIS ONE .

i m not soo sure about my writing might take it down later ig but imma post it anyways soo plz dont be mean.

#kotc #princewitch #kingdomof the wicked #kingdom of the curesed #kerri maniscalco #emilia #emilia di carlo #wrath

[vapcrwaves]

━♡ guess the 24 YEAR OLD JULY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because AOKI IMOJEN is just as BLAZING as the month of JULY. wait, why do they remind me of HIRAI MOMO? beyond that, they seemed SELF-RELIANT & BUOYANT upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of INSURGENT & RECKLESS though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX # 3 / APARTMENT # 2 / FLOOR # 2 ; they seem to have a lot going on with HER job as TATTOO ARTIST / BASSIST. 

bonjour , y’all !! my name’s jade ( she/her , twenty-one , gmt+8 ) !! and i’m super excited to meet and write with everyone !! this is my spunky kid , imojen , and i hope you’ll come to enjoy her as much as i did writing everything about her :D if you wanna plot , do not fret because i’ll be dropping in everyone’s IMs hehe , but if you prefer to plot over at discord , don’t hesitate to tell me !! <3 

*   𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊   ╱  ʙᴀꜱɪᴄꜱ   .

name  :  aoki imojen  nicknames  :  yoki , jen . age  :  twenty - four . birthday  :  july 27 , 1996 . zodiac  :  leo sun , aquarius moon , sagittarius rising . place of birth  :  tokyo , japan . currently living  :  seoul , south korea . occupation  :  tattoo artist , bassist . pronouns  :  she / her . orientation  :  bisexual biromantic . ethnicity  :  japanese .  spoken languages  :   japanese , korean , english .  character insp.  :  kat stratford from 10 things i hate about you , bridget vreeland from sisterhood of traveling pants , effy stonem from skins uk , young carol rhodes from gossip girl tv series , rhonda smith , mia’s backstory from if i stay . label  /  tropes  :  hoyden , icarian , insurgent , reveller , the rebellious spirit . pinterest  :  here .  aesthetics  :   scared of commitment , but has 7 tattoos. a habit of endlessly lighting a lighter. platform boots to boost your height. but then again, sneakers for comfort while running from the cops. forgetting to discard empty cigarette packets from your bomber jacket. spilling your fifth espresso onto your drawings and designs , maybe it’s time to sleep. a frightening look on your face which millennials like to call a resting bitch face. the heat ruining your collection of leather jackets. finding comfort in your friends who seem to understand your mood swings. having a pet cat who’s as feisty as you. spontaneous adventures live inside your head and your friends fall victim to those ideas. liking the rays of the sun more than the moon despite being a night owl. oversleeps anyway. trimming your bangs yourself because you couldn’t be bothered to go to the salon. overcooking your sunny side up eggs. sleeping to forget problems. drinking to forget problems. epitome of a ride or die. 

*  𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗    ╱  ᴘᴀꜱᴛ   .

aoki imojen was born to understand what it was to live a life with no structure. her father was part of a rising band in the 90s, toured all over small venues in japan that they slowly rose to a known local name, and imojen has seen all the chaos unfold from backstage in the arms of her mom. however, slowly transitioning into the year of 2000s, the economy was still struggling from the lost decade and the income from touring never sufficed for a growing family. imojen’s father was forced to leave the music scene with the help of her mother’s influence: “it’s time to be serious”; and work multiple jobs in order to fully provide for his first child and the another growing one inside his wife’s womb. 

growing up, imojen’s no stranger to music and her father loved to introduce rock music and bands to imojen’s upbringing. she adored b’z and the gazette, and it leaves no doubt that imojen’s father had been her greatest influence in life. as she grew older, not only did they share identical music preferences and influences, but imojen’s learned to play various instruments— the bass being her favorite. imojen’s also stemmed from that infamous reckless behavior his father’s known for back in the day, and when the teenage years came, so did the impetuous reputation begin. 

imojen and her mother aren’t exactly as close as she was with her father. in fact, their relationship was a toe out of the civil line. it got worse when imojen started to focus on the band she created with friends instead of school and late night practices turned to never returning home for a few days and having the audacity to blatantly lie when asked where she was when asked. it’s hard not to blame her mother when she assumed things for the worst. imojen’s gone quite defiant especially when she discovered that her and her father’s relationship had began to run askew. imojen blames her mother’s interference with her father’s music career as much as her father did, she loved him so much that she was completely blindsided to always take his side. and when the divorce papers came and went, imojen chose her father as she always would. 

her father got a job as a musician locally and eventually overseas, however, money didn’t come by so fast and easy initially. instead of going to university, imojen invested in learning the arts in tattoo design and worked as a tattoo artist to help with the bills. the pair finally thought to settle in korea when imojen’s father got a permanent job. and at this time, imojen has decided to try pursue a career as a musician as well, hoping that the thrill in her early band days are still well stored in her system. 

*  𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗    ╱  ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ   .

imojen can never be satisfied of living in the same area for so long, or at least under the roof with the watchful eye of her father. work’s payed well and imojen decided to move out and get an apartment of her own. hence, she found dallyeog, parties almost every single day, drags everyone into spontaneous adventures, comes home terribly drunk and wakes up with a huge hangover—well, still pretty normal. aside from the norm, imojen working at the tattoo parlor and taking gigs at bars as a bassist, imojen’s investing in writing music as well. she hopes one day to finally finish at least one song she’s been procrastinating for far too long and convince her father to make them a rock duo instead, but a band of her own would fantastic too.  

*  𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗    ╱  ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ   .

imojen looks quite mean at first glance, and it doesn’t help that she’s indifferent towards anyone who isn’t part of already her friend. she doesn’t hate, hate is such a strong word, she simply doesn’t have the attention span for people that don’t interest her or she doesn’t know fully well to enjoy a conversation with.

honestly has the gina linetti energy “how was i supposed to know there’d be consequences for my actions” as she literally does anything she wants before her brain can even weigh the pros and cons to it.

imojen enjoys taking risks despite the relaxed attitude and seemingly nonchalant view in life. it might be a surprise to learn that she’s quite ambitious, but underneath, she does aim for the highs (both meanings) in life, except there isn’t exactly a time frame for those and would much rather pursue them steadily. 

everyone can depend on imojen to have a good time, or if someone needed a friend to vent to, she can surprisingly be all ears, but never follow her words of advice. she does mean well, it’s just that she doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time and is quite reckless,, like ask her to pick between two choices and she’ll advice you to take the riskier one bc “it’s fun don’t be a prude”.

she is more sympathetic than she let on. imojen’s not very vocal especially with her emotions and on what she exactly feels about other people’s situation. serious conversations? catch her yeet away from those. they render her uncomfortable, most especially if it is about her. however, seeing her friends gloomy doesn’t sit right with her that she does anything to make them crack a smile. 

believes that people should be left to roam free and that authority is useless and ruins the fun— hence why she’d always be caught defying them. yes, she uses her brain, but acts more towards intuition and what she felt like doing that day. so yes, she might loves setting her life on the line.

*   𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗   ╱  ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ .

plastic hearts   ╱   someone whom imojen shares a passion for music with. the both of you are like peas in a pod as you both are in the same wavelengths as each other. they may not have the same types of music, but open enough to share a plethora of music playlists.

angels like you   ╱   the typical bad-good influence trope wherein imojen’s reckless behavior and liberated thoughts on legalities have gotten your muse in various dangerous but fun adventures. on a flip, your muse may be the reason why imojen’s woken up at 8 in the morning, bright, well, and not hungover.

prisoner   ╱   an angsty and toxic relationship that imojen could not get enough of. everyone sees this partnership (romantic or platonic) of destructive nature, both of you may or may not know, but regardless it can never be broke off no matter how hard both try. 

gimme what i want   ╱   the typical fwb relationship, we can add spice to it, but on the base that’s the idea. 

night crawling   ╱   imojen’s ride or die, the person she would instantly run to for an adventure, midnight strolls, alcohol escapades, and vandalism. but as things you both do burst into haywire, you’re both aren’t afraid to be open to each other too and spill secrets or bodies hidden in the closet. 

midnight sky   ╱   perhaps a new acquaintance?? friend?? that doesn’t exactly have a first good impression of imojen?? maybe vomited on your muse the first time they met, or jen was really mean for no reason under the influence of alcohol?? she’s chaotic so perhaps it wasn’t a good first meeting. 

bad karma   ╱   imojen hasn’t been exactly an angel all her life, and perhaps karma has run around to bite her in her ass. your muse might’ve been somebody who hurt imojen; either a terrible break up or severing trust, let’s explore :D 

golden g string    ╱   a band :D maybe nothing too serious, just a group of pals playing and making music together :D  or maybe the group's been playing gigs for awhile now and wants to head into the big leagues :D

honestly im so down with anything so !!!!!!

#[ PINNED POST ] #dallyeog:intro #this has gotten too long SORRYsdfsdf #but thanks for reading <3

[afterthelastreset]

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch15 A Little Offer P5

(Mak belongs to @wasted-church )

The entirety of the cliffside home was oddly silent other than the furious sounds of scrubbing coming from the other side of the sheap. The outside had gotten slightly darker indicating it mustve been early night at least. The residents were sure feeling it. Seam especially as he relaxed back down into the old armchair, normally he hated water but after getting blasted by ashes he was happy to scrub it off. Took a while for his fur to dry though. Luckily no stitches came loose this time. As for Jevil and Rouxls-

The small gremlin was balancing on his tail watching the working worm with a crestfallen face. Seam could only shake his head and couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor fella. True his uh ....'help' had backfired but considering he was pretty rusty from being locked up for over one hundred years of his life, one couldn't judge him too harshly....Buuuut Rouxls wasn't one to let go easily. It had been proven before.

"Can I help,help?" Jevil gave a hopeful smile to the cleaning worm, who paused for a split second before harshly dunking the sponge he was using into a nearby bucket filled with sudsy water and continued as if he hadn't heard a thing. Making the foolishly hopeful smile from his face vanish a bit, but ever persistent, his tail leaned him forward to be closer to the worm's side where he tried seeing his face. "You shouldn't have to work, work so hard. Im sorry, sorry. So allow me to he-"

A quick snap of a heated glare from the duke silenced the jester into submission, his smile now silently small and he froze at the hatred radiating off him. It got smaller when Rouxls leaned onto his knees. Usually hed tower over Jevil but his current sitting position made for perfect eye level.

"Oh. THOU art sorry." A dry chuckle came from that angry being. "Good. For I amst sorry as well....Im sorry for ever letting mine guard down aground thee!"

Jevil flinched. Hard. And Seam continued to watch calmly from the comfort of the chair, but Kaard didnt care as he already turned his frustrations back to scrubbing the black blotches.

"Im sorry I ever met thee. Im sorry I canst be there for mine boy- He can't even sleep properly without a story let alone runneth an entire kingdom by himself. Imst stucketh cleaning homes likest some maid just to get decent food and all for what? For a smiling foolish worme to come crashing into thine-"

....He froze.....Something gently kneeding his shoulder...

"DON'T TOUCHE ME YOU PLAUGE ON MINE LIFE!!"

The tail that been holding up shot back the shocked body of the imp as a worm reared his full anger towards him for trying to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Why dont'st you doeth what thou doeseth best and playest games elsewhere?!"

With that the duke snapped back around to the floor ignoring any other sad look Jevil gave him. The jester slunk back even further from the duke- An ear perked at a soft chuckle he turned and found it came from the plush cat away from him.

"Your next play has been interesting to say the least. Are you ready to accept defeat old friend?" His smile widened as the small man pouted and promptly huffed at the audacity of the question.

"Absolutely not,not. I just-" Yellow orbs glanced back shakily to the worm for a split moment before back to the smiling cat. "...Need a new move,move to play."

He chuckled again. "Then may I offer some advice-"

"I can heareth everything thou art saying." Another annoyed glance was thrown over his shoulder.

A paw was held up in defence. "Now, now. I meant no harm but maybe its best Jevil leaves you alone right now."

The smaller man Took one last look to the worm before slowly starting towards the smiling cat. Seam ever so calm reached out and gave the sulking gremlin a pitty pat on the shoulder.

"I dont suppose you would like some tea to help ease the sting of rejection?"

A dark chuckle and smile. "The taste is bittersweet. But I would rather get sweet victory, victory.~"

Deep chuckles came from the cat as his one good eye watched the jester jump onto the couch next to himself, but somehow his forced frustrated grin still seemed to be sad there. It sorta made his cotton shiver with a pang of sorrow, but in a game it was best not to let his guard down too much. Jevil sat down on the couch next to Mak, who was fast asleep in a box filled with different things from gems to random jewelry they probably stole. Took forever to get them to calm down after finding their 'room' ransacked and cleaned out by Rouxls. The purple migit made his frustrated ways known with tapping fingers and strained grin directly towards him in question.

"I just...have a few set backs. Set backs."

"Oh yes. I remember how fondly old couples would chase each other with screams and try to bodily harm one another." He chuckled at the narrowed eyes Jevil have him. "Or maybe not. It's been at least a few hundred years. Hahaha."

"Funny,funny....What have you done, done to get expertise in other's romantical preference?," his voice asked in a low tone. A Jevil way of challenging his knowledge.

To which he shrugged. "I don't. But Id like to think I have enough know how to at least hold a decent conversation and get to know them more."

He could practically hear the gears working in the other's mind as Jevil slowly came to the realization that maybe, just maybe he had something up his sleeve. So when a more questioning look came over him, Seam couldn't help but chuckle.

"Really,really?...Would the Magnificent Seam be willing, willing to....discuss his tutorials? Tutorials.

"Haha. But then wouldn't that be cheating the game old friend?"

One of Jevil's eyelids twitched. Indicating held back annoyance at least. "Hmhm....Perhaps rules could be ...temporary bent,bent?"

It was more of a suggestion than question, but one that made Seam hum with interest anyways. His eye went back to the worm who was stretching his back out with a groan and popping noise from said worm's back. He looked about ready to get done and be one his way. Could it really hurt to exchange a few short insights of his? Jevil waited with hopeful patience as Seam rubbed his chin in thought before looking back to him with a smile.

"I suppose...haha. Two opponents of opposite sides could come to an agreement every so while still searching for victory."

A couple of giggles came his way as Jevil lit back up. "Do tell. Do tell."

"Well....I could but I think you already know he doesn't appreciate forceful attempts to get him to like someone...But how you're doing things I could be wrong."

"...And I could say, say the same about having to be forced to clean a mess,mess that's not his. ..His."

"Not if the person offered to help him in return and was happily offered to go as a ...guest for the holidays."

There it was. The straw that broke the hathys back. The jester became as still as a statue as soon as those few words tumbled out of the plush's mouth, it was honestly rather funny to see such a rare shock upon the normally cheerful face, unfortunately it didn't last long because rapid blinks followed shortly after and a forced pleasent chuckle escaped his throat.

"My dear friend, friend," Jevil said in a forced sweet voice. "It seems that my ears are not what they used to be, be. I thought for a moment you said-"

"That I will be accompanying the Duke to the this silly ball?" Jevils face dropping again made him chuckle and lean into the chair's cushions more. "I suppose it's not that big of a deal...But then again." Even if it seemed unreal, a smug look came over the cat. "You might not like my play on words, Old friend. Hahaha."

In that stuper the imp could only get out one word. "How...?"

"I offered to help take care of you. It seems you've outdone yourself with the romanticizing eh?"

He went from shocked to an angry little man complete with puffed cheeks and red eyes. If you didn't know Jevil personally it would be quite scary but to the laughing cat it was just like a small tired child. It was cuter when he suddenly stood up and stomped a foot onto the couch. Jarring the sleeping child awake and jingling the box they were sleeping in. Seam didnt even flinch when a claw was pointed at him .

"No far, no far! You cheated, cheated!"

"By nicely asking if I could go? Really Jevil. You're acting like a child who didn't get the cookie jar."

A growl. "You can't keep me away, away! "

"Who said I would? I only said I would try to help keep your wild self in check and I intend to do so. ...By giving you advice. " when Jevil didnt say anything he continued. "Try a less forceful approuch next time round. "

".....Next time?" It seemed he found his voice. Jevil could always rebound pretty fast. "My next turn will leave your head spinning, spinning!"

"Oh Im sure it will." Still with the smug grin.

"You'll see, you'll see!!"

With that he sprung himself off of the couch and with furious jingles made his way back to the back room. Oh this was surely was going to be worth watching. A slighy jingling of trinkets ditected his attention back towards the box where the child was looking at him.

"Breakfast time now?"

......................................................................................

Scrubbing sounds was the most of what he heard as he kept up the cleaning momentum. He wanted to get done, collect his earnings, and get out of that chaotic hell of a home. The set back had made him take a whole couple more hours to fix, it was already probably in the middle of the night by how slightly darker it was outside. But luckily he was nearly finished. Just a part of the ceiling left-

The mop was promptly dunked back into the bucket and pulled out a moment later before being thrusted back up against the ceiling and rubbed against the black ashes remaining stuck to it. The anger was still burning in his mind but he couldn't careless. ....Unfortunately it blinded him to what would've been the soft jingling of bells coming up to him until he felt a tug on his sleeves. The scrubbing stopped and looked down to the small mass that was Jevil. Giving him a small smile-

"What doth thou want?"

The harsh tone made him flinch slightly but that didn't deter his new set of confidence. "Ive come to apologize, apologize for everything that's happened."

An anoyed but slightly confused expression came over him as Rouxls rose a brow. His attention turning back to scrubbing. "Oh lucky me... And what doth I owest thy pleasure?"

He didnt see the inhale of breath Jevil took. "I want you to forgive, forgive me. Let us start over, over. Please. Let me make up, make up!"

That made the worm pause his movenents and look back down to the hopeful face of the imp who smiled wider at him. Rouxls blinked....And blinked again. .. Before another annoyed look came over him.

"Really? I amst supposed to forget everythinge that has happened?" Jevils ears drooped slightly as Rouxls huffed. "Likest I wouldst do that- EEK!"

The mop fell to the floor with a thump and water spilt onto the floor. Rouxls scrambled back from the sudden flashing of pink in front of his face, in his hast knocking over the mop bucket and almost falling over onto his rear. Jevil admittedly was pretty startled from sudden reaction as well and just stood there. A couple shiny pink heart attacks floating above him at Rouxls's eye level.

He blinked upwards at the heavy form of the Duke in front of him-

"ART THOU TRYING TO GIVETH MINESELF A SOUL ATTACK?!" He pointed at the hearts. "I will nay f-forgiveth thou for doing that! Now...g-getest rid of them!"

Jevil did. Immediately. "Im sorry, sorry-"

"Stoppeth it! Just stoppeth apologizing." The worm pushed himself up from the wall as gave Jevil another annoyed look. "If thou was really 'sorry' thoust wouldst try harder and use that head of yours."

Jevil said nothing as Rouxls turned around to look at the new mess with a disgusted look, but he did hum and make a thoughtful expression a moment later. He might have mumbled something like 'Try harder, harder?' but Rouxls wasn't paying much attention so he barely heard. But he did see him back out of the room from the corner of his eye. Good. Now he could get done

He looked back down at the spilt water, wondering how he would get that cleaned up-...Wait. A pair of rapid footsteps came towards him, along with a small...battle cry. He barely had time to turn around before a purple blur slammed hard into his chest. They went to the ground like a sack of gems wind knocked out.

"WHONST THY F*CKETH-"

"FORGIVE ME!" A pair of yellow eyes stared intensely from his chest.

"WHA-" The smaller body of the darkner squeezed around his form face pouting against his chest. Rouxls struggled but managed to sit back up with the imp digging into him. "Absolutely not!"

His hands grabbed onto him and pulled. Hard. But Jevils limbs dug harder around him resulting in a panic running up the worm's spine and pulling harder on him. The digits digging into his goopy body was starting to hurt.

"Im not letting go, go until you let me,me make it up to you! You!"

"Thou art bluffing!" By now he was disparately wanting to get this thing off of him! He couldn't stand the way his soul was thumping against his ribcage- "T-Thou cant do this!"

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

Of course. What answer would he expect? He sat there and stared dumbfounded at him but considering that he was still clinging to him tighter than Lancer, and that pouting face was.....kinda cute.....UGH!!

"Fine!Fine! Thou can getteth off me now!"

He narrowed his eyes. "You give me your word,word?"

"Y-Yes. Now please-"

After a few more moments of looking at him suspiciously but slowly let Rouxls go. The worm man shakily stood up onto his feet while remaining eye contact with Jevil who seemed alot more satisfied and happy he finally got his way.

"Splendid, splendid! Hehehehehe! Im so excited,excited to hear that! I promise, promise to make you happy, happy!"

"I doubt that..."

But Jevil didn't seem to hear Rouxls mumbling to himself as he proudly skittered to the exit to the shop front. There he stood proudly and pointed a claw at the ever so calm Seam.

"One step closer,closer to checkmate!"

#Jeam #nosuit #seaxls #seavil #seam x jevil #jevil x seam #jevil x rouxls #seam x rouxls #rouxls x jevil #rouxls kaard x jevil #rouxls x seam #rouxls kaard x seam #deltarune #seam #jevil #rouxls kaard

[some-j-imagines]

whiskey nights

GUYS guess who actually got off her ass and wrote something :D ! me ! yall know the only way to break out of a 3-something-year hiatus is with some smuttttttttttttt

also just a side note, when I used to write all this I was a virgin? And now im not? honestly writing smut as a virgin is a lot easier in my opinion LOL 

xxx

I felt the light sting of morning sunlight on my eyes, breaking through the obviously not dark enough purple curtains that hung on the window opposite of my side of the bed. As I fidgeted around a bit, my entire body felt tight, and sore, and the events of the night before started to come back in short flashes.

The joker had gotten back late from a heist, dripping in fancy new threads, jewelry, and an obnoxiously classic gold crown complete with a royal looking set of jewels.

I had no choice but to snort at the sight of everything once he walked in the room, setting down my cup of coffee on the table in front of me. "What'd you do tonight? Rob the queen of england?" As nonchalantly as possible, I attempted to 'fix up' the silk robe I had been lounging in to drape off the best parts of me in a suggestive way. But my hands continued to fumble, and I realized I may have put a bit more whiskey in my coffee than I had originally thought. And as if that weren't bad enough, my body had the audacity to let out an obnoxious hiccup.

The jokers face curled into a smile as he cozied up on the couch next to me, however so careful as to not let his skin touch mine. He knew how much I had been craving it. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Steadily, he extended his hand out to smooth some hair behind my ear, and I'm sure he could feel the heat radiating off my flushed face. This was both a symptom of the alcohol, and just his presence in general. But he wasn't stupid. "Looks like someone got bored, huh?" His eyes leered into mine, and while I knew from his body language he was acting playfully, I still feel like I'm getting caught for something. The unnerving way about his sharp features and attitude reduces me to feeling like a child getting caught taking sweets before dinner.

I attempted to smile as I avoided his eyes, looking meek as I tried to relax my back against the plush couch. He only seemed to move with me, not helping to alleviate my nerves at all. "Well," I trailed off, trying my best to play the innocent act, "you were gone for such a long time this heist." Looking up through my eyelashes, I saw that I had been playing this situation correctly. There was an unmistakable look of desire pooling in his eyes, but I knew him better than to just let this go. "I figured one drink couldn't hurt." His figure was hard to focus on in a steady way considering I had been feeling the room spin for quite some time now, but his features were hard to pull away from. He honestly was so beautiful.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he tore his eyes away from my own, and onto the glass bottle on the table in front of us. Reaching for the intricately designed and delicate neck, he seemed to be looking over the rather small quantity I had left inside. His eyes made their way back onto mine, full of mischief and each word dripping with something not too dissimilar from amusement. "Have you been drinking daddy's whiskey?" I opened my mouth to say something, but was hushed by one of his rather course fingers halting my words by placing itself across my lips. "You know this is one of my favorite ones." "I know," you started enthusiastically, hiccupping in between breaths, "you were the one who showed me how to mix it in with my coffee!" I exclaimed, fondly remembering the other night we had spent together. The entire week had seemed to be something on the more depressing side, and I found myself sulking around the place more than usual. And while I didn't drink much, the joker had took it upon himself to teach me one of his favorite tricks. "It's so sweet this way." Another hiccup escaped my body, rather violently this time, and to steady myself I instinctively grabbed onto his shirt. "It tastes just like creamer!"

His smirk grew as he looked down at my hands, encasing them in his own, causing myself to press down harder onto his chest. "Baby," he said, almost rolling his eyes, "we both know you're not capable of having just one cup of coffee."

"So I might have had a few more than one." I shrugged, hitting his arm in the process of flaining my limbs I had almost no control over. Maybe I had poured one too many. "But, we were out of creamer."

His figure sat calmly in front of me, taking in my words while aimlessly fooling around with my hands. The feeling of his skin against mine was so warm and comforting. Pulling my hands up to his face, he looked up at me through a gaze as I felt his breath on my hands. "I suppose I have a minion to fire then, no?" His voice was in a low hush, and I felt his breath on my skin as he began to leave small kisses across the back of my hand, and down my fingers. I felt a light twinge in the pit just below my stomach, and had to fidget around in my seat to keep my composure. Obviously seeing my reaction, he chuckled a bit, and laid himself back onto the couch as well, pulling my hands down to rest seemingly low on his waist. "Everyone around here knows you drink the stuff more than water, we should have creamer in our fridge stocked up the ass. At all times." He sighed, looking up the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes, and massaging his temple. He must have another one of his headaches. "Besides, if I don't kill a man every now and then, they start to forget who they're working for."

"Do you," hiccup, "have one of your headaches?" I leaned forward, forgetting about my current dearth of motor skills and depth perception. Basically falling forward into his lap, I felt his chest vibrate softly once again.

"No, sweetheart. I'm fine. Daddy's just had a very long day." Though I still climbed clumsily over him, steadying myself by grabbing his broad shoulder with my free hand, while the other trailed even further down south.

His eyes widened playfully as he let me continue. "Well if there's anything," I said, hooking my fingertips in the elastic band of his boxers, "I can do to help, just let me know."

Without missing a beat, he grabs my head by my hair, pulling my face closer to his while pushing my other hand down lower inch by inch. "You know, you get pretty bold when you're drunk." His eyes were so close to mine I could see the veins just under his skin, so blue they almost complimented his eyes. "And the smell of whiskey on your breath makes it that much sexier."

And he's right, too. Typically, while I'm no stranger to the sheets, my actions were always more reserved, waiting to be dominated. But as of right now, he was playing a game that I seemed to have no patience left for. "Is that right?" My whispers were plagued with these damn hiccups, so my voice would raise a few octaves every slip, but I continued to run my hand lower, finally feeling the brush of his trail start to begin. It caused a fire in the pit of my stomach and I closed my eyes. God how I longed for his rough touch.

Finally it had seemed like I had reached his breaking point, as he grabbed my wrist with a fierce grip and stopped me in my tracks. "You know I can't handle seeing you make faces like that." The low rumble of his voice resonated within my drunken body like music, and I began to feel the excitement of anticipation bubble up inside me. "Who says you get to have all the fun?" When he yanked my body forward I immediately gave into the motion, letting myself fall into his strong figure and be enveloped by his arms. I even gave a small moan as his hands brushed across my chest as he began to try and sit me up. "Don't get me started before we even make it to the bedroom, ____."

But I couldn't resist him. I had waited so long for him to return, thinking about his sharp cheekbones, and his strong hands rubbing themselves along my skin. Holding me down. Making me submit.

He was the only person in the world who had this effect on me, reducing me to a pile of lust and desire. I managed to throw my leg over his lap and straddle him, and as I lay myself over his chest and feel his hands steady me from the back, I rested my chin along his collarbone and spoke into his ear softly. "Why not, baby? What's wrong with right here?" Knowing that my window of control was closing quickly, I only had a few more minutes at best with the scale of power tipped in my favor. I reached back, unhooking the bra I had wanted to be ripped off me, and threw it somewhere on the ground.

For the quick second that he was stunned, I lifted his hands up to my chest, placing them over my breasts. A rather loud sigh escaped from the smile I had on my lips, and I began to feel him take over.

Almost too suddenly, I was pushed to lay on my back as a fervent mouth met mine. I relished in the feeling he gave me, cherishing every tug and pull as much as every kiss. Though I suppose I spoke too soon, because his face almost immediately trailed down my neck and onto my chest, not short of futile protests by myself. Though as I aimlessly tried to gain control over my limbs, Joker pinned my arms down above my head with a grip so tight I could feel the bones in my hand squeezing together. "Fuck." The expletive left me in no more than a whisper, and I wasn't sure if J could even hear me over his own ravaging.

"Don't be so quiet now, princess." Every word that left his mouth sounded more and more coy, and his 's's seemed to slither out seductively. "You know how I like to hear the sounds you make when I touch you." He trailed his hand down my body and finally settled it on my waist, giving me a squeeze and causing another involuntary moan to slip out.

He growled, and flipped my body over so that I was thrown a bit forward on my stomach. The entire motion took over me, and I found myself complacent to both the wills of J, and my drunken conscious. However much of my consciousness was left, that is. When I felt his hand rub down my back and caress my ass cheeks I couldn't hold back the sounds that escaped me. I was never one for being quiet, especially during sex. I suppose drunk me agrees.

Though that's when I felt him inch closer, and closer, down my ass and brush his hands right over my entrance, which is clad in the silk underwear he had bought for me once upon a time. "J," I whined, shutting my eyes and replaying the feeling that sent through my body as many times as I could, "p-please." While I wanted to blame my stutter on the lack of motor skills we both had known that at this point I'm simply flustered. He had won, once again, and I felt simply powerless, ready to beg for hours if that's what it took to get him to feel me in the way I so desired. "I want you to play with me." My words were meek, and slightly muffled since my head was being shoved into the couch cushion I was laying on. He merely chuckled once again, and kept fondling my assets all too far away from the points I wanted him to be hitting. Finally, his hands traced back to the thin fabric separating me from my bliss, and I let out another whine. Shoving my ass up and bending my back, I wiggled around suggestively. "Come onnnn-"

A sharp inhale cut off my speech as I felt his slim finger slide inside me with ease, the friction from the movement causing an immeasurable amount of pleasure to build up inside me. I continued to hold my breath and cherish the feeling for as long as I could, swinging around my hips suggestively and slightly backing up, forcing him to go a bit deeper each time. When the breath that I had been holding inside my chest was released a small giggle accompanied it as a smile grew onto my face.

He slipped in another finger immediately upon seeing my reaction. "Oh, princess," his voice was husky, and I could hear him pant slightly, "Don't you sound absolutely delicious." His fingers moved in and out a slow pace, and began to slightly curl up every few strokes. "And you're so fucking wet."

Finally composing enough of myself to think straight for a second, I hazily opened my eyes, turning back to see the man who put me in such a trance. Propping myself up on my elbow, I watched his eyes become fixated on his own fingers, watching as they reappeared with each stoke, slick and covered in my own wetness. The animalistic look in his eyes reminded me of an alpha staring down his prey. Fuck, he was so sexy.

"J," I began, taking the initiative myself to kick my underwear off completely. I was sure that my display was less than coordinated and sexy, and probably more primitive and desperate. Though he was still, for the most part, fully dressed. And I couldn't have that. "Come on, baby please. I want you to fuck me."

I began to try and fumble with the button on his pants but I was immediately shoved back down, and onto my stomach. Turning my head slightly to look up at him I saw the ferocity in his eyes as he leered at me while discarding rather quickly of his clothes. "Maybe we should get you drunk more often, huh?" And before I was even able to respond I felt him pushing through my entrance once more, the width of his fingers proving not to be quite enough anymore. "You seem to be so much more...what is the word?"

His shallow strokes were with full intention to stir me up, to make me beg even more. But haven't I been humiliated enough? The whining only became more audible as he continued to push me farther and farther.

I reached back, hastily grabbing his arm to drag it over, and guide him to wrap his hand around my throat. Sticking my ass up in the air once again, I didn't know how else to get what I wanted.

His low groan and sudden positioning served as his response as he ever so slowly withdrew his fingers and steadied himself on my ass. I could feel him position himself behind me as his grip grew tighter around my neck.

"Whos my good girl?" He snarled, finally giving into my pleads and pushing himself inside me with luscious force...

My day dream was broken by an intense amount of sunlight flooding the room, and I opened my eyes to see the culprit. Joker, ever so fresh eyed and bushy-tailed, stood at the edge of the bed basking in my weak, hungover form sprawled across his bed. "Rise and shine, princess." His voice was eager considering the time of day.

The toxic contents of my stomach boiled inside from the night before as I felt the bile rise up in my throat. "Why are we getting up so early today baby?" I wasn't even able to open my eyes as I attempted to snuggle back into the plush bedding. But he crouched down to my eye level, and his presence was hard, if not impossible to ignore. One of my eyes shot open to see him outright smirking before me.

"I figured we could get started on those coffee's early today." His hand smoothed my erratic looking morning har behind my head and his fingers continued their soothing motions. "Daddy took the day off since you seemed to have been missing me so terribly." He straightened up, and I wasn't able to tear my eyes away until my face was inches away from his bare pelvis. "Doesn't my good girl want another round?"

#joker smut #joker scenario #joker x reader #joker imagine #jared leto joker #joker fanfiction #fanfiction #smut

[chibistarlyte]

kiribaku prompt-- bkg finds and smuggles a cat (or kittens?) into the dorms one evening during a thunderstorm and panics when he realizes what he's done and goes to kiri trying to figure out what he's gonna do now that he's done it (aizawa eventually finds out but can't bring himself to punish bkg for it bc he would have--probably HAS--done the exact same thing)

*rubs hands together* OKAY FAM LET’S TRY WRITING SOME KIRIBAKU HMMMM YES

i’m praying it’s not terrible ahahahaha....

.

BANG BANG BANG BANG.

The sudden pounding on his door startled Kirishima enough that he fell off his bed with a yelp.

“Oi, Shitty Hair, open up!”

Rubbing his head where it’d hit the floor, Kirishima scrambled to his feet to get to the door. Bakugou sounded a little frantic on the other side, if he wasn’t mistaken. And that never bode well--Bakugou rarely ever sounded anything other than angry or at least mildly irritated.

Kirishima opened the door to see a sopping wet blond holding an equally soaked bundle in his arms. It seemed to be Bakugou’s jacket.

“Dude, what--” the redhead started before he was nearly bowled over by his boyfriend. Said boy practically ran over to the bed, but crouched down on the floor next to it rather than sitting atop it.

“Close the door!” Bakugou ordered in a hiss. A confused Kirishima complied.

“What has got you in such a tizzy, dude?” Kirishima asked, crossing the room and approaching the explody boy. He knelt down next to Bakugou, tilting his head. “This...isn’t like you.”

“Shut up, just...just help me with this!” Bakugou growled, holding out the bundle.

“...What is it?” Kirishima asked, reaching his hands out.

“Meow...”

Kirishima froze, red eyes glancing quickly between the bundle and Bakugou.

And Bakugou had the audacity to pout.

“You brought a cat into the dorms?!” Kirishima exclaimed, moving several panels of wet fabric to reveal a drenched feline with black and white fur. The cat stared up at him with wide olive green eyes.

A blush lit up Bakugou’s cheeks and he scowled. “It was out in the rain! What the hell else was I supposed to do, leave it?!”

Kirishima frowned, not having a good answer for that. Had he been in the same position, he probably would have rescued the cat too.

Because that’s what a hero would do, right?

Sighing, Kirishima scratched at his forehead underneath his thick white headband. “Let me at least get a towel...both of you need to dry off.” He offered Bakugou a small smile before crawling to his storage tubs to look for one of his spare gym towels.

The cat meowed again and squirmed in Bakugou’s grip. Growling, Bakugou released the cat from the confines of his jacket and set the animal on the floor. It shook its fur out, spraying water droplets everywhere.

“Hey, watch it you dumb fucking thing!” Bakugou yelled at the cat. The cat just stared at him before starting to lick its paw.

Kirishima threw a red towel at Bakugou’s face, smirking as his boyfriend spluttered. “Here, use this one. I’ll try to dry the cat,” he said, holding up a black towel for said purpose. He scooted closer to the bathing feline and tried to pick it up, but the cat only squirmed and immediately slipped out of his grip. “Kitty...why have you forsaken me?” he sighed, trying again and failing to grab the elusive creature.

Having dried himself off, Bakugou snatched the towel from Kirishima’s hands and dove right for the cat. “I’ll get it, hair for brains,” he said with an eyeroll. But just like with Kirishima, the cat slid from Bakugou’s grasp and trotted further away from the two boys. It sat down and started licking its side, stopping to stare at them for a few moments before continuing its grooming.

“Dumb fucking thing,” Bakugou said. “I saved you! You should at least respect me!”

The cat stopped bathing, stared at Bakugou with those green eyes, then turned away from him and continued licking its wet fur clean.

Kirishima busted up laughing, clutching his stomach. “Ohhh man, he dissed you hard!”

Growling, Bakugou balled up the black towel and threw it at his boyfriend’s face. Vengeance from earlier.

“Asshole!” Kirishima accused, though the bright smile and laughter still present in his voice made it clear that it was more of an affectionate nickname than an insult. He tossed the towel back at Bakugou, who dodged effortlessly this time.

“Try again, dick face,” the blond said with a smirk. He might have even stuck his tongue out a little. Maybe.

Kirishima was about to leap at Bakugou and tackle him to the floor, but the cat’s meowing interrupted the action before it could occur. Both boys glanced over--the cat was sitting at the door, pawing at it, wanting to be let out.

“No, kitty, you can’t leave the room!” Kirishima said, crawling over to the cat and picking it up. This time, at least, the cat sat comfortably in his arms without wriggling for freedom. “I do think we should get it some food, though...maybe some water?” The redhead looked to Bakugou, unsure.

“I don’t even know if we have anything for it to eat. And I don’t have a litter box or anything...” Bakugou trailed off, then scoffed. “Goddammit, I really didn’t think this through.”

Kirishima offered a small smile. “Not thinking things through usually works for me...maybe this time it’ll work for you, too?”

“Shut up,” Bakugou said without any real venom.

The cat, still in Kirishima’s arms, nuzzled into the crook of his elbow and started purring. The redhead’s whole face lit up with a smile. “Aww, kitty likes me.”

Bakugou pursed his lips. Of course the cat would latch onto Kirishima. He was the most positive person Bakugou had ever met. He exuded charisma and good vibes. And animals were usually good judges of character.

The sight of Kirishima cooing and lightly scratching the cat’s head was so undeniably cute that it made Bakugou want to puke. Almost.

“Oi, shitty hair, let’s at least get ‘im some water.”

Nodding, Kirishima stood up and carried the cat to his bed. He set it down on the camo comforter and shook his finger at it. “You stay here like a good boy, alright?”

“The cat’s not gonna understand you, idiot,” Bakugou said as he stood up. He dragged Kirishima to the door, taking one last look at the cat to make sure it was still on the bed before they slipped out of the room.

It didn’t take them long to retrieve a small serving bowl and fill it with water. Kirishima wanted to find something for their feline friend to eat, but there wasn’t much in the kitchen that they could reasonably feed to a cat. So they forewent the food for now and just settled on the water.

When they got back upstairs, Bakugou held the water while Kirishima unlocked his door. The redhead cracked it open just enough to peek inside. At first glance, he couldn’t see the cat.

“Maybe he’s hiding...” he said as he pushed the door open just a bit more.

“Close the door!” Bakugou suddenly yelled from behind him, but it was too late. A black and white blur sneaked past their feet and ran down the hall.

“Shit!” Kirishima yelled, giving chase. Bakugou abandoned the water dish on the floor and gave chase as well. They couldn’t afford for anyone to see the cat, or else they’d be in huge trouble.

“Stupid fucker,” Bakugou muttered under his breath, rounding the corner and dashing down the stairs after the cat. Kirishima wasn’t far behind, propping himself up on the railing to slide down a little faster.

The cat led them all the way down to the ground floor, into the common room where both boys stopped dead in their tracks.

Aizawa was standing behind the large couch, arms crossed and bloodshot eyes staring blankly at the two. Shouji stood next to their teacher, two ears pointed at Bakugou and Kirishima.

“Uh, hi Aizawa-sensei!” Kirishima greeted nervously, giving a small wave. Next to him, Bakugou grunted in greeting.

“Kirishima. Bakugou,” Aizawa said in his gravelly voice. “I’ve been informed that you’re hiding a cat in your dorms?”

“Uh...”

As if on cue, the black and white fluff ball jumped up on the back of the couch and looked up at Aizawa, meowing at him.

“We’re sorry, sensei!” Kirishima immediately blurted out. “You see, Bakugou found the cat outside in the rain and didn’t want it to get sick or hurt, so he brought it in here to keep it safe, and--”

Aizawa held up a hand to silence the redhead’s apology and explanation. “Whatever, I don’t need you to tell me the hows or whys.” And then, Aizawa’s expression turned just a tad softer and he reached out to pet the cat. “Shouji actually came to ask if you two could keep the cat.”

Both Kirishima and Bakugou’s eyes widened, then Bakugou glared at Shouji without any real heat. “How’d you even know we had the cat?”

Shouji wiggled one of his ears. “Kirishima’s room is right next to mine. I could hear you guys yelling about it through the wall.”

Kirishima laughed and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Bakugou scowled, though a blush dusted his cheeks.

“If you can get the proper supplies and choose a room to let him stay in, you can keep the cat,” Aizawa said, still petting the cat. He eyed Bakugou. “That was a very heroic thing you did, Bakugou. I commend you for taking this cat in when he could have been in danger.”

Bakugou grunted, his blush deepening.

Kirishima latched onto Bakugou, giving him a giant hug. “Woo, we get to keep him! Thank you, Aizawa-sensei!”

Aizawa waved his hand at his students. “Just make sure he stays out of trouble, and make sure you take care of him properly.”

.

Later that evening, after they’d gone out to get a small bag of cat food from the convenience store and set up a temporary cat box for him to use, Kirishima and Bakugou sat on Kirishima’s bed. The cat was curled up on Bakugou’s lap.

“What should we name him?” Kirishima asked, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Bakugou stared down at the black and white fluff asleep on his lap, thinking of a name.

“Mischief. We’ll name him Mischief.”

#hobbitunderthemountain #hope u like it friend! #boku no hero academia #kiribaku #kiribaku fic #my writing

[fcking-fics-chicago]

Thank God For Nick Leddy

Brandon hears a rumor about Andrew and proceeds to freak to fuck out.

Brandon was having an okay day. Not great, not terrible. Work was always… interesting. It was a pretty busy little diner, but there was always some weird shit going on. He thought it was just gonna be like any other day. And it was until he went to serve drinks to the booth near the corner.

As he was about to pour their drinks, he overheard a conversation from the next booth over.

“-still can’t believe Shawzy hasn’t talked to Saader! I mean, he’s been in love with him forever!” Brandon dropped the water all over the man sitting in front of him.

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed as he realized what he’d done. “I’m so so sorry!”

“It’s, uh, it’s alright.” The man responded. At least he’d spilled it on someone nice.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated.

“We’re just, uh, gonna go.” The man said as he and his friend turned to leave.

“Oh god,” Brandon murmured as he brought the jug back to the kitchen. He went back with a rag and wiped down the booth. He looked over to the booth where he overheard the conversation. He recognized them. It was Nick Leddy, Brandon Bollig, and Patrick Sharp. They all looked over after the commotion, and Patrick was shaking his head.

“You idiots,” he hissed. “Shawzy gonna kill you!” Nick’s eyes were wide as he stared at Brandon. And Boller just looked like he was somewhere in between laughing and yelling at Leddy. Patrick quickly got the bill and they walked past Brandon as they left. Leddy gave him a sheepish smile and a wave.

Brandon still couldn’t believe it. He’d known Andrew forever, he was his best friend. And as much as he’d like to say it wasn’t true, Nick was super close to Andy. If he had something he wanted to talk to that he couldn’t talk to Brandon about, he’d probably turn to Nick. Or maybe Patrick.

And what made it even worse, was that Brandon had been in love with Andrew since he realized what love was. Andy had been his constant, through everything, when he first realized he was gay, when he almost moved to Columbus with his dad, and when his parents finally decided to get divorced. No matter what happened Andy was there. And every day Brandon fell more in love with him.

And god! Brandon felt like he was dreaming. Maybe Leddy heard him wrong? Maybe it was a prank? But god! He wanted it to be true. He sighed and went back to the counter. Then he threw himself onto a stool, laid his head on the counter, and groaned.

“What’s wrong Saader?” Seabrook asked.

“Leddy said Shawzy’s in love with me-” He started.

“You didn’t know?” Duncan chimed in.

“-And then I accidentally poured a pitcher of water on a customer.” He finished

groaning again.

He saw Brent’s eyes widen before he started laughing hysterically. The rest of the guys hanging around joined in and Brandon just scoffed at them. Then Dylan and Alex walked up to the counter to pick up the next orders that need to go out and stopped at everyone laughing.

“Brandon- spilled water- on some guy- because- Leddy told him- that Shawzy- ‘s in love- with ‘im!” Kane spit out between laughs. The two of them immediately started laughing and Brandon stared in shock.

“Does everyone know about this but me?” He asked.

“Yeah, dude!” Corey called from where he was perched on the counter. Well, it was no surprise that Corey knew. Corey knew everything. It was sort of scary, but he was just weirdly observant. But the rest of them, and they had the audacity to laugh at him. Rude.

“Well I’m gonna go do my job, ‘cause I actually work here, unlike some people.” He said, with mock anger as he walked away with new orders.

---

The whole day Brandon was stumbling around, still in shock, but he’d like to think he was doing okay. But then, the one person he dreaded seeing walked in. Shawzy. He sat down in his usual booth and looked down at his phone. Brandon panicked, not sure what to do. He knew he had to go over and talk to him, but god, he didn’t want to. He tried his best to stall, checking up on the other booths until he couldn’t put it off anymore. He took a deep breath and walked over to Andrew’s booth.

“Manchild!” Andrew shouted excitedly as he approached. “I have so much to tell you!” Brandon laughed at his friend’s antics, no matter what happened Shawzy was always Shawzy.

“Let me take your order first,” Brandon said, proud that he had kept his voice from shaking. He then quickly escaped as soon as he took Andy’s order.

“Ahhhhh!” He half screamed as he arrived sat down.

“What is it this time?” Duncan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Mutt’s here,” Corey answered for him.

“How do y- nevermind,” Brandon cut himself off. It was just Crow’s weird intuition. “He’s here! What am I supposed to do?”

“Just go out there and treat him like your best friend. Which he is.” Jonathan said just about shoving him out of the chair. “Now go! You’re no use just sitting here moping.”

Brandon took a deep breath and went back out with a basket of fries and a milkshake. He gave Andrew a small smile as he approached him, he set down the food as Shaw smiled at him.

“Alright I’ll be right back, let me just tell Brent I’m taking my break.” He said, hands shaking slightly. He tried to walk backward towards the counter, but because this is how this day is going, he tripped. But luckily for him, or unluckily maybe, Andy had quick reflexes. And so, when he tripped and fell, Shawzy was up in two seconds and just barely caught him. One hand on his waist, the other on his shoulder. Brandon’s face immediately heated up. Andrew pulled him back up onto his feet, and Brandon was overly aware of how close he was now standing to the shorter man. Brandon started to quietly laugh, and then Andy joined in and eventually they both started laughing hysterically.

“Sit down,” Brandon said pushing Andrew back into the booth, still laughing. Then he turned to yell back to Brent. “I’m taking my break Seabs!”

“Have fun kids!” He heard Brent shout back faintly. He just scoffed then slid into the booth next to Andrew.

“Hey,” He said as he looked at Shawzy.

“Hi!” Andrew responded enthusiastically.

“So, what’s up?” Brandon asked.

“Okay, so, this morning, I dragged Corey and Alex down to the river and-” Andrew started.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t wait for this,” Brandon said as he leaned closer to Andy.

“Wait for wha-” He was cut off again as Brandon leaned in and kissed him. He paused in surprise, then started kissing back. Brandon slowly pulled away, smiling. Andrew had an adorable grin on his face and he was staring at Brandon with a loving look in his eyes.

“Thank God for Nick Leddy.” He mumbled to himself.

“What?” Andy asked.

“Oh, uh, Leddy, Sharpy, and Bollig were in here earlier, and I sort of overheard Nick say you were in love with me,” Brandon replied sheepishly. “And then the whole day was a bit of a mess ‘cause I was really nervous.”

“I’m gonna kill Nick,” Andy nearly growled out. Brandon started laughing. “What?”

“You’re just so small, and adorable.”

“We may have just kissed, but I will fight you,” Andrew replied playfully hitting him on the arm.

“Yeah, I know,” Brandon smiled.

#fics #my fics #brandon saad #andrew shaw #the mutt #manchild #shawzy #saader #hockey #nhl #6520 #diner au #diner

[jinniesxlamp]

Goodbye, Hello - Chapter 4

LIST OF CHAPTERS –> Masterlist

Surely, the scortching rays of sunlight that penetrated through every grain of sand, and the outside temperature of thirty one degrees celsius were more than enough to precipitate a gushing amount of sweat pouring endlessly out of thirty-plus bodies scattered along the beachside of Pyeongchang. 

The torturous heat stretching across the unsure filming site only gave out the least apprehension; The nerve-wracking, heart-stopping sound of each 'cut’ that was relentlessly made over twenty times in a span of five minutes; The sharp, vulturous eyes of the impatient woman standing by the director, eyeing the entire vicinity with grave intimidation. Now these...these were the big stressors.

What felt like an eternity of both verbal and non-verbal tension finally ended as the first scene was finally perfected. The heavy, displeased sigh that had come from the woman in front of the disappointing crew caused a drought in everyone’s throat; one that was enough to prevent them from speaking.

“After the fifteen minute break, gather around in one area before proceeding with the next scene” demanded the woman.

“Wae?” Asked one of the younger crew members who in return received threatening looks from his colleagues. He didn’t really have to add more insult to the injury.

If it weren’t for the phone call that basically just saved them from an hour-long sermon and what-not, that poor boy would have had his first taste of what the rest of the staff would pertain to as “it-was-nice-knowing-you” conversation with the boss.

Y/N’s POV

Everything about this day was frustrating to say the least. I was never really called in to do site visits unless bad problems occurred, which unfortunately was the case today. I came two hours early to the office to finish two stacks of paperwork, not to be sent three hours away from Seoul because of a highly disorganized filming location and incompetent staff who had to be tamed.

Somedays I wish I wasn’t the problem fixer. 

The young boy who had the audacity to answer back in that tone made me twitch another nerve, lucky for him Chairman Byeon had called, again. 

“Yeoboseyo, Chairman Byeon” a heavy, displeasing yet predictable sigh was the first thing I could hear. What is it this time.

—

Yoongi’s POV

Two weeks. That’s how long it has been since we’ve started airing Champion Trainee Season 2, a talent show featuring trainees from agencies all over South Korea who competed for the title of “Champion Trainee”. Each season focused on different aspects talent-wise. Season 1, which aired over a year ago was in search for the best vocals among the younger ones. This season’s focus was rap, and that’s exactly the reason why I’m here. Why we’re all here.

Today was supposed to go by fast, or so we thought. In the two weeks-span, everything seemed to be in place, no disputes, no technical errors, nothing. Not a single problem was encountered. But today, the air that circulated around the vicinity was different. Maybe too different. Something was wrong.

Everyone was doing what they were expected to do; the stylists were in one corner, preparing the attires, some of the noonas were ironing while some were fiddling with the clothing. All the camera directors were also huddled in their stations, coordinating with the script writers and producers. The lights men and sounds personnel were doing their usual duties as well. It seems like a normal day to us, but we all know it wasn’t on their end.

“Museun il-iya?” All heads turned to Monsta x’s Jooheon who seemed to have noticed the oddness that was going around.

“Jinjja! I thought it was me. You feel it too right??” Jumped Got7′s Bambam announcing his own similar feelings.

“Why is everyone acting weird? It’s like they’re all nervous or something” Hwasa, who had been turning her head from all directions joined into the conversation as well.

Now that everyone had brought it up, the harder it was to ignore the little things that felt somewhat off, especially now that we’re barely just sitting backstage on our seats, waiting for the show to start.

“I think they lost something important” Lisa, who had just returned from walking around the studio joined into the discussion we were having.

“I heard one of the producers talking on the Phone with Park In Jung, she said something about a License” Chaeyoung, who was tailing Lisa continued, chewing on the manggae she had most likely grabbed from the snackbar

“License? Geuge mwoji?”

“It must be their License to Operate.” I said, answering Jooheon who had an even more puzzled look on his face.

“Oh! That would make sense. I would be nervous too if I had lost that thing” said Loco.

“What does that mean, Oppa?” Asked Hwasa

“It means that we’re illegally operating right now if they lost that thing.” Sounded an unfamiliar voice, making all of us to turn back to its direction.

“Ehhh?!” Bambam, who clearly was starting to get nervous about the whole situation yelped.

“But don’t worry, someone is coming in to take care of it. I just thought we would let all of you know.” The young man, who we later on learned was one of the producers gave us a reassuring nod.

After introducing himself as Im Daehan, he right away told us about how Park In Jung couldn’t come in today due to a same-day meeting he had all the way in Jeju Island. Hence, adding more difficulty for the staff to fix the current issue.

“Is that why everyone seems so restless? Because In Jung isn’t here and the License incident?” Hwasa who seemed to be the most curious about this whole situation inquired some more.

Somehow, her comment seemed to force out a heavy sigh from Daehan. One that sparked more interest from all of us.

“I want to believe it is....but it’s not, actually.” The young producer smirked, eyebrows raised, hand behind his neck, massaging it in distress.

“What do you mean?” Jooheon questioned.

Before anyone else could make another sound, the noticeable change in Daehan’s facial expression was enough to catch our attention.

“You’ll see why” he said as he ran forward to where the door was, greeting the body that had just walked in.

A woman. I could barely picture her face, the mix of both darkness and random beams of light made it difficult for me to see anything clearly from a distance. But what I did notice though, was the change in behavior of everyone else inside the room. Everyone, except us seven. Jaws clenching, throats drying, mouths shut and bodies stiffenning—like statues. So this was the reason.

It’s her.

Who was this woman?

Allowing my sense of sight to adjust without force, I started to see clearly after a few blinks. She wore a baby blue sundress that flowed until her knees, revealing milky white skin below it. Closer, I thought. I was curious to know who she was.

The next five steps she took already gave me a sustainable view of her neckline, revealed through a decent v-cut on the midline of her chest. Until they made a stop by the well-lit snackbar that stood only eight feet from where we were, the rest of her features were still slightly unclear. Slowly, they began unblurring.

Long, brown hair—strong, furrowed brows—eyes that could demand authority towards anything it met—stern, but soft-looking peach pink lips that remained still and quiet.

That’s all there was to picture. That’s all I thought there was...until I noticed something familiar. In fact, too familiar. A white gold pendant dangled along her neck, glistening from the perfect contrast of her pale, white skin. I’ve seen this pendant before.

Years ago. Five years ago.

It can’t be. Can it?

“Oh. Isn’t that the lady that came on the first day?” Suddenly my moment of hysteria paused, turning to where Chaeyoung was.

“It’s Y/N.” Scoffed Jooheon, smirking as his arms folded across his chest.

That name.

Just when that started to resonate inside my head over and over, a certain scene from weeks ago flashed before my memory. It was when I was going over the show guide that I had encountered that name.

So it is her.

Y/N’s POV

Within a six hour time frame, a total of seventy three people have drained me of all my energy that could’ve sufficed for another ten hours. First I was sent to Pyeongchang to fix one site’s problem, and not even an hour after I had gotten there I was sent back to Seoul to cover for In Jung to fix another site’s problem.

Taking a tremendously deep, exhausted breath, I wanted to scream inside this small, secluded room where I spent almost an hour and a half making phone calls to secure another copy of the License to Operate in this vicinity.

“Naega michingeoya” I whispered to myself, rubbing my face with both my hands, pushing my hair back afterwards.

Leaning back on my chair, I rested my sight on the piece of bundled paper that sat right in front of me. It was a list of names for everyone involved in this project.

“Come in” I said calmly as I heard a knock on the door. It was Soojin.

“Y/N, a few people want to see you. Can I bring them in here?” Peeking her head over the small opening made by the door, she asked.

I nodded carelessly. While waiting for ‘them’ to enter, my gaze shifted back to the bundle of paper. Sliding it towards my direction, I began flipping over the pages, going over names I’m already familiar with until I heard another knock on my door.

“Come in” I said, eyes still fixed on the sheet I was reading.

“Annyeonghaseyo”

Said a voice that was too ecstatic for my day. Paying almost no attention to the visitors, I continued to scan over the list that had four more names to be read.

Then, my heart stopped.

Min Yoongi (방 탄 선 연 단)

“Hello” said another voice.

“How have you been?”

In that moment, I felt everything around me slowing down hearing only the very distinct noises—the ticking of the wall clock, roars of heavy machines from outside, and the shuffling of papers that I was holding, the rest were muffles and murmurs. 

There was an unusual weight that pulled my head down, unwilling to meet the eyes of the person right in front of me. But I managed to fight the feeling.

“Hello” I said with feign confidence.

How long has it been? Three? Four? Five?

Five years.

I could still remember vividly the last time I had met those eyes, the feelings it had brought me until the very last goodbye. Surprisingly, the memory appeared as though they were fresh that I remember every second of it. All of it but the feeling. My heart no longer recognizes anything from his blank eyes. No hurt nor anger, and especially not love. Nothing. 

“Jugiyo” 

Sounded another set of voice, it was Soojin.

“The attorney is here to see you.”

“Oh, grae. I can see him.” 

“Joesonghabnida, there’s an important matter I need to accommodate. I hope you understand” looking at both Jooheon and Yoongi, I apologized before having Soojin escort them outside.

Yoongi’s POV

Eventually the day had ended even after the midday plight. The rest of the day was spent on a chair, commentating, scoring and applauding the contestants. Something that didn’t really require physical efforts, causing me to ask myself: Why am I always tired at the end of the day?

Walking myself to the parking lot as soon as I had bid goodbye and said my thank yous to the staff and crew, the only thought that lingered inside my head was a hot pot of kimchi jjigae on the center of our dining room table with steam running towards the ceiling. It was our fifth year anniversary today. The boys are at home, waiting for me to finish so we can have dinner together. As soon as the thought of stew faded, replaced with those boys’ faces, I heard a loud ring coming from my left pocket.

“Are you on your way?” 

“Oh. I’ll be there in ten minutes”

“Arasso. Drive safe!” 

I had gotten to the parking lot right after I ended the call with Jin hyung. Halfway through opening the door of my black Audi, I started hearing resounding footsteps that potentially came from a pair of high heels. But of course, it wasn’t that that delayed me from entering my vehicle. It was the voice that came with it.

“De, Chief Byeon. De. We have the new copy. De. I’ll work on it in the morning.”

Leaning my back on the cold metal of my door with both hands tucked inside my pockets, I watched as she ransacked her purse, struggling to find what I assumed to be her car keys while she answered her phone that she clipped between her ears and her shoulders. Tossing her purse and the rest of what she was carrying into the passenger’s seat, I attempted to initiate another conversation before she entered her own car.

“How are you? You didn’t get the chance to answer me earlier”

I could tell she was completely unaware of me being here as she stopped halfway into stepping her foot in. 

“This is unexpected for the both of us. I’m surprised to meet you here as you are to see me. Am I right?” I asked again as she seemed to ignore my previous question.

“Andwae. I knew I’d see you again sometime soon. The industry is small, after all. But you on the other hand....never in your whole life would you have imagined our paths crossing again this way.” 

An amused grunt, along with a usual smirk was my only response upon detecting the masked chicness and sarcasm between her syllables. 

“As your friend for many years, may I at least know how you’re doing?” Again, I asked, making a third attempt.

“Friend?” she grunted back, something that actually caught my attention.

“If this was based on my own preference, then no, you may not know how I’m doing--”

She continued, not even sparing me a glance.

“--I hope you don’t confuse our past affairs with the present, we are not friends.”

Astounded with the words that were spiking out of her, I couldn’t cease myself to stop and look at her with brows furrowed. I have never, ever experienced this with this woman before. This woman who I’ve known for many, many years and was even intimately involved with for a reasonable time being. 

“--but since it’s been a long time since last we’ve seen each other, consider this as a gift--”

“--I’m doing very well, Min Yoongi”

Once again she started to step inside her car, leaving me completely unnerved. And then, before closer shutting the door, she turned to me with an unfamiliar look on her face. I could no longer picture the same woman I once knew, this wasn’t her anymore.

“Goodbye.” she said, confidently.

I watched as she took off in a silver BMW X1, disappearing from the first corner towards the exit.

“Goodbye.” I said, five years ago.

“Goodbye.” She said, five years later.

Who would’ve thought that that foolish word would only mean ‘We’ll see each other again.’

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #min yoongi #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #min yoongi fluff #bts suga #lee jooheon #monstax #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x fluff #monsta x angst #monsta x smut #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

[lifeiszestyy]

*the last time i felt This Heated and Angry about a fictional character was probably professor umbridge and?? like that’s a villain. and the reason i was mad was because i’ve always been a very idealistic child, “treat people the way you want to be treated,” etc, so as a 14-year-old or whenever that book came out, i was infuriated about everything that is umbridge’s character, bc hashtag can’t relate to being a binch that’s ok with emotionally harming other people

*and since then i’ve come across a lot of other villains and antagonists with varying motivations and degrees of ridiculousness... and honestly?? depictions of fascist villains are written as more sympathetic than this stupid, stupid character. because sometimes writers will be like “here’s my villain that commits mass genocide but his wife died so please sympathize with him” and it’s like eww, no, not again... so you kind of become numb to those types of villains bc writers keep wanting their audiences to sympathize with shitty people bc ~~you could turn out that way if you choose the wrong path~~ or whatever

*but this character is presented as a coworker of the protagonist so you kind of hope she’ll become more of an ally, but then as she gets more and more paranoid and nosy, she actually turns into an antagonist. she’s not a villain, but she’s used as a device, as a means of acting against the main character. and she’s presented as an ordinary person who’s easily swayed by public opinion and whatever everyone else thinks, and she thinks that whatever her beliefs are are pure and absolute, but the truth is that she isn’t capable of reflection and critical thinking, she can’t make decisions on her own, she refuses to take responsibility for her actions (pretending she didn’t lead a murderer to kill a coworker’s family member and pretending that nothing is ever her fault ever and still having the fucking audacity to hold herself on a higher moral ground than everyone around her) and aNYWAY...

*i think what infuriates me about her is that she has all the qualities of a villain, but she isn’t a villain, she’s presented as an ordinary (ie boring) person, and she’s never held accountable for her actions. at least, she isn’t written as being sympathetic but it still!! gets me fucked up my dudes

*there are moments where it almost seems like she’s gonna have a revelation and then she takes like 500 steps back into dumbass territory.

*sksksk i just had a revelation that if i bring this up with my friends, they’re gonna blame her shitty behavior on the fact that the character is a woman, as if this fictional character had actual autonomy and wasn’t written by a man. the point of her character is that anyone could become this much of a dumbass because her whole character is supposed to represent “an ordinary person who tries to do the right thing but only under narrow circumstances”... an ordinary person who thinks that they’re in complete control of their emotions and could never be swayed by other opinions except that they’re Always being swayed by other opinions lmaooooooo

*tldr im big mad and i should take a nap before going out tonight -_-

#zest bloggin #// #/// #//// #///// #murder mention /