#it's the only one that even tried. even showed up to the competition. even remotely

[thatwitchrevan]

It's not even just that I like Cloak and Dagger because I do or that it has better characterization than most of the MCU franchise put together because it does but honestly FATWS could lose against absolutely anything in the canon, it could be knocked over by the lightest breeze, it is such an utter waste of a show that She Hulk probably beats it in some way but I refuse to watch to find out. Putting it against Cloak and Dagger literally should be absolute murder and yet.

#honestly the only disney marvel series that could ever hold a candle to pre disney ones is moon knight okay #it's the only one that even tried. even showed up to the competition. even remotely #moon knight was good #for some wild reason disney decided to actually write a script for that one and that one only #also the netflix and other series aren't immune to stupid shit!!! #i hated jessica jones season two despite season one being absolutely gold! #defenders was honestly silly! #i will still not watch iron fist! #and runaways got so unbearably goofy in the finale arc #they would still absolutely kick fatws' ass without breaking a single tiny bead of a sweat

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Of course I've heard the new Hozier EP...

|| Too Sweet ||

Frank Castle x reader

It's the blood wet on your skin that does it. His blood. It smears and taints you as you pull the knot tight and cut the final stitch free by the soft light of your bedside lamp.

He screws his eyes closed for a few seconds but when he opens them again you're still there, carefully cleaning the wound, wiping the blood away trying not to make it sting as if that kind of soft pain is remotely worse than what he's already endured on his grisley crusade. It's almost ridiculous, how gentle you are despite everything. How even in the early hours, you welcome him without question in to your home, your bed, your arms.

Somehow, you're able to lift the heavy weight of all his past and future and hold him in the clear simplicity of now.

You're putting away the bandages and needles, and now, as you apply the soothing salve of your kisses on his dirty, battle-worn skin, Frank can't cope. He doesn't deserve the honesty in your love. You give and he takes and yeah, he tries his damndest to give it back, but what he's got is charred, broken, and corrupted. It doesn't match. Its been so long since he's had something close to that, and he's only seeing this for the first time like some kind of fucked up epiphany.

He pinches the thick bridge of his nose as if waking from a nightmare, but it's the opposite.

Your eyes search for the problem, another thing for you to fix with your gentle touch and he can't stand it.

"Don't need to do this." He says, head shaking slowly from side to side as you meet him with a puzzled look.

"Frank, I'm not letting you run around bleeding out-"

"No, that's just it. You don't need this kinda shit from me. You've got your own life and things to care of. You don’t need this, dont need me."

He's acting like a spooked dog. You don't know where all this fear has come from so suddenly. You place your hand on his face, cupping his jaw and making him see that you mean what you say, not for one second letting him cower away and hide.

"What if I do need you, huh? You ever think about that? What I want?" You ask him.

Frank still struggles to meet your eyes. "I-I ain't no good, sweetheart... I've done things I ain't proud of, things you shouldn't even know about.'

"But I do know about them, and look, Frank, look! I'm still here with you."

"It ain't right though, layin' that kind of shit at your door."

To hell with that, you think.

"I know it ain't a competition, but I can be just as nasty. I can roll around in the dirt and get my hands dirty if I need to, you know that. C'mon Frank, I'm no princess."

"It ain't all that-"

"Then what? Do you want out?"

If he did, you definitely hadn't see this coming.

"No, 'course not."

"Then tell me."

He hesitates.

"You're too sweet f'me." He finally says quietly.

You can't help but laugh.

"Frank Castle, the day I'm too sweet for you will be the day I stop drinking coffee. And that's never just in case it isn't clear."

You catch the slight ghost of a smile picking up the edge of his mouth.

"I'm serious." You say.

You swing your leg over his, settling in his lap and hooking your arms around his neck. You'll make sure he gets the message alright.

"Let me show just how sweet I am..."

~ Please reblog if you liked my writing! Thank you 💕

#frank castle x reader #frank castle angst #frank castle fluff #ficlet

[kazemi-archive]

The Longest We've Ever Gone

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x Reader WC: ~0.7k     Genre: angst Summary: growing up with the miya twins always meant you were basically raised with them, attached at the hip. sure, you fought, but it has never been this bad. CW: none here really

Prev Part —  Masterlist — Next Part

It was finally getting to that point. The point where you were wondering if you were wrong. If it was time to give up your pride.

Growing up with the Miya twins may have given you a good portion of your personality. Your stubbornness, your competitiveness, your intense need to outlast not only others but your own limits too. Growing up with the Miya twins may have also given you a bit of attachment issues to them.

You were basically raised beside them, from the age of six on, you’d never gone more than a few days without seeing them. The only exception had been when your sister had dragged you away for a small vacation when you were in middle school. Less than a week and you’d started lamenting the unfairness before the car was even packed to leave.

Well, that was the only exception until now.

A week and a half.

10 days.

That was how long it had been since the double date that went up in flames. That was how long it had been since you and Atsumu had spoken. That was the longest time you’d ever gone without seeing him, without talking to him.

Your pride was keeping you from going to him first, but it was slowly losing to the hurt, the feeling of loss at not being able to go to him. The mourning feeling of stopping yourself from dialing his number when you got a bad grade on a paper, or from calling him when you can’t sleep at night. He was always up later than Osamu, had been since you were kids.

Your heart always ached about that too, late at night and remembering the first night you felt closer to him than Osamu. Osamu always got your secrets, kept them tight to his chest. But Atsumu had you in the middle of the night, sleepy confessions of insecurities and weakness, reassurances passed through heads on shoulders and arms around waists, shared blankets and carrying you back to bed.

You wanted to scream, to cry, to protest what had been your fault in the first place. Yet it was still something you weren’t quite ready to admit to yourself. Instead you sat on the small couch in your dorm, stabbing your spoon into the tub of ice cream. Your tv glow kept your room lit as it played the end credits of your latest episode on Netflix. You groaned when the screen turned dark asking the question you hated the most.

Are you still watching?

You rolled your eyes and fought with your blanket trying to locate the controller so you could slam your thumb down on the ‘yes’ button. “Stupid Netflix.” You grumbled as you tossed the remote away again, your tv lighting up with the opening sequence of another episode. You hummed along to the theme song of your show as you shoved another spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. You were halfway through that bite when the lock on your dorm door twisted. You glared at the light from the hallway as the door opened and crinkled your nose at the intruder.

“Are ya just mopin’ in the dark?” Osamu knocked his knuckles against your legs, pushing them off the couch as he sat where they just were. You huffed in response, not giving him a response. “Yer cryin’.” He thumbed the drying wet spots on your cheek and you grumbled as you spooned another bite.

“M’not.”

“Ya were.” He countered. “Still haven’t talked t’him?”

“It’s the longest we’ve ever gone, Miysam.” You mumbled, knees pulling closer to yourself as you stared off at the TV.

“I know.” He ruffles your hair lightly, affectionately, as he tries to get you to open up. “One of ya s’gonna have t’talk to the other.”

“Doesn’t have t’be me though.” You shut down his gentle prying in one swift comment. You’ve been doing it for days. Moping over it but not letting him help. He sighs as he takes in the shadow of your form created by the flicker of the TV glow. He knows it’s killing his brother as much as it kills you, this lack of communication between the two of you isn’t something any of you ever remember having to deal with and it was tearing all of you apart.

TAGLIST : OPEN (send an ask) @the-last-shiv @iluv-ace

#𓇻 Liberosis

[defectivegembrain]

I hate when people seem to misunderstand Troy and Abed's relationship as being actually like what Vice Dean Laybourne tried to make them think it was. He didn't understand them, he understood just enough to present a simplified, stereotypical version of what they have. Like yes Abed was initially a little inconsiderate in his response to Troy, but honestly as an autistic person, I understand very well the frustration of having something planned out, being very focused on it, having an agreement with someone, and then they suddenly want to change it. People exaggerate how stubborn he was, he was literally about to give in before Laybourne manipulated him.

And he actually does that quite a lot. In the initial buildup of their friendship, he does things like take cues from Troy's behaviour and try to "mess with" him, because that's what Troy teaches him friends do. He's trying to connect on Troy's level. He plays basketball with him, engaging in interests he doesn't necessarily share, he tolerates Troy's competitiveness and lets him win the race to make him happy. It's Troy who has to get past the attitude that friends only do things for him and not the other way round.

And he does learn to be a good friend, but the idea that Abed doesn't show up for him just as much is bizarre. In Epidemiology, he's insistent that if only one of them survives, it should be Troy. He listens and supports him with the AC repair vs plumbing thing, and it is Troy who decides that he just wants to watch tv with him. When Troy goes to the AC repair school, Abed doesn't try to talk him out of it, even though he's devastated. He's upset when Troy and Britta get together, but he doesn't put that on Troy himself.

He listens to Troy about the impersonator thing, despite deep fears of being controlled, and honestly seems more concerned about their friendship than his own safety. He goes along with the body swap bit at a moment's notice, goes to a restaurant he previously said he couldn't go to, puts up with the waiter badmouthing one of his favourite movies, and breaks up with Britta for Troy. When he's so upset about Troy leaving that he hallucinates lava, he jumps into said lava in order to let him go.

And I especially hate when people, just like Laybourne, use the Inspector Spacetime thing to argue that their relationship is unequal. Like sorry, in other instances, Abed is more than willing to play the villain (Kickpuncher, Alien) or love interest (Kickpuncher) or sidekick (their shadow puppets) to Troy's hero. They do Bert and Ernie, who are equal partners. When they do Calvin and Hobbes, yes he's Calvin, but that's notably something only Troy has expressed an interest in him doing before.

Yeah Inspector Spacetime is a more frequent thing for them, but it's pretty clear that's a really special character for Abed. In Virtual Systems Analysis we can see him use the character to express how he's different from other people. Which, yeah, an autistic person connecting with what is essentially the Doctor...go figure.

Like, look at when he lists characters he thinks are like him: "Data or Johnny 5 or Mork or HAL or K.I.T.T. Or K9 or Woodstock and/or Snoopy. Spock goes without saying." None of those are human. Several robots. Most are not the main character. One is an antagonist. It's probably not often that Abed feels this deep a connection to a character who is undeniably the hero, and while not human, still shows human characteristics. And there's no way Troy is unaware of that.

And by the way, Troy never seems remotely unhappy about playing Constable Reggie until Laybourne talks him into it. And never again afterwards. In fact, when Abed is full on trying to act "normal" at Shirley's wedding rehearsal, Troy talks him into playing Inspector Spacetime...with this ridiculously tender look of love on his face.

It's just...it's a severe mischaracterisation of them both, articulated by a clearly manipulative character, and it bothers me when I see people fall for it.

#here's the essay #community #nbc community #troy barnes #abed nadir #trobed

[sorikkung]

what goes on in neverland. ⇝ ch. 7: fighting, flighting, and so many feelings

word count: 16k

pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (skz, tbz and atz, check masterlist for more details)

genre: e2l, f2l, smut, fluff and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will

au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny

warnings: extremely dubiously consensual voyeurism, humiliation kink, very brief hyung/oppa kink, feminisation kink, breeding kink but probably not in the way that you think.

a/n: just a reminder that these characters aren't meant to be super great people. they're a little fucked on purpose. also, not proofread at all, not even once, just needed it done. full a/n at the end. glad to be back! c:

tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

prev | masterlist | next

“Do it again.”

This is starting to feel a little like déjà vu.

“I did it perfectly that time, what are you talking about—”

“Just do it again!” Eric snaps, pressing play on the music and not giving you much of a choice. As you go through the complex part of the routine he had given you, he barks orders to your other bandmates getting distracted behind you. “You guys should be practicing too! You have all of night time and every other day to make out, can you not focus on practice now that it matters more than ever?”

The air inside feels stuffy with all the sweat and exertion, but god forbid this man gives anyone a break. How his own body managed to keep up with the strain he’s putting it and all of yours through is far beyond your comprehension. You contemplate if he’d be able to keep going after you throw a large rock at him.

“Eric,” Kevin whines, leaning on his knees to catch his breath and wiping the sweat from his brow as Eric tries to pull the two boyfriends off each other. “Can’t you take it a little easy on us? Not all of us are used to dancing for hours and hours on end, or even dancing at all. At least let us have breaks when you’re focusing on someone else. Which you’re not even doing! Look, he just did it again!”

You ponder the type of rock you should throw at him. Maybe pelting him with tiny pebbles would be even more of an annoyance. Maybe you should stick to a big one and go straight for the bruises on his legs that still linger from how hard he went and continues to go on the pole.

Eric whips around to look at you in your ending pose, and twirls his finger at you in a motion to repeat. “Do it again, I didn’t see it.”

Or, maybe you’ll just find the heaviest rock you can find and drop it on his head. Hopefully the worst it’ll do is a mild concussion.

“Yeah, cause you’re too busy being a dick to everyone!” you quip at him, eyes flaring. “Eric, we gave you this position because we wanted to show you we’re still taking the competition seriously and that we still value your opinion and trust in your leadership, not for you to walk all over us and push us too hard because you’re still salty that we fucked the guys making you insecure! Get over yourself! If you want to take this stage sooo seriously, maybe take into consideration the physical state of your team! We’re all about to collapse!”

“For someone who trusts in my leadership, you sure aren’t following it all that well,” he grumbles in response, rewinding the track. “One more time, just you. Or do they not train you hard enough at the Prism?”

You roll your eyes at the fucking audacity, because that is not even remotely the same and he knows it. “No, because they’re more concerned about our sex appeal than our pole technique, Wooyoung and I train ourselves to have fun — you should try it sometime!”

He doesn’t grace that with a response, turning the song on again, and you decide to cooperate only to throw all your remaining energy into the routine, making it as extra as you can muster — facial expressions, powerful moves, dramatically thrusting your whole body into it like it was the actual stage, so there’d be absolutely no way Eric could nitpick on you any more.

Or so you thought.

“You overdid it.”

“Get fucked, Eric!”

You straight up scream in his face, pushed far past your limit and sick of his shit. You have been trying so hard for him. All for him. You made sure he was okay with it before even signing up for the competition, you trained him in pole and choreographed him a role routine and night at your job just so he could impress them, you fucked his ex with him just so he could prove a point, you got thrown over a table for it and continued defending his honour and all you get in repayment is him being a total asswipe because he can’t handle what you do with your spare time.

“Are you fucking serious right now—“

“Alright, enough!” Sunwoo bellows, loud enough to make poor San flinch, stepping between you and grabbing each of you by the collar. “Either make out and make up, or fuck off till you calm down. I’ve just about had it with all the arguing and bossing around. We’re all taking a break and I am not taking no for an answer!”

Sunwoo is the type to get fired up just as easily as Eric is, if not more, so you all know how to handle him when he gets set off; but there’s something different this time. His tone cements the decision as final, and Eric must feel it too because he finally stops arguing and storms off.

The rest of you watch him leave, and as soon as he’s out the door, you all slump in relief to the floor. It’s done. Day one of Eric’s Nightmare Bootcamp is finally done.

“Fucking finally,” Sunwoo mutters, lying still for a moment before being the first to get up and start collecting his things. “My entire body aches. Apparently this place has hot springs? I think I’ll go check them out.”

“I’m way too hot and sweaty for that,” you sigh as the others start getting up to join him, “Lowkey tempted to take an ice bath instead. Or go chill in the lake, or something.”

“I’ll join you,” San pipes up, hanging the sweaty towel he was using to wipe his face around the back of his neck. “The lake sounds great right now.”

Sunwoo shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

It was Eric’ idea to put the camp in boot camp, bringing up his extended family's holiday house in the woods that only ever gets used twice a year. It’s a ridiculous waste of money and housing as far as any of you are concerned, but  at least Eric was smart enough to mould himself a spare key before he went no-contact with them. Granted, he then immediately lost said key while moving apartments, but as soon as you brought up the idea of a boot camp he turned the whole damn apartment upside down searching for it, only to realise it had been hot-glued to his battle jacket this whole time as a decoration along with other spare keys you had gathered for diy purposes.

The place is nice, awfully scenic – not quite mountainous, but hilly enough for the cliff the lodge is on to make for a gorgeous view overlooking the lake, estuary and ocean — secluded, and cosy. Now that Eric actually has a key to the place, next time you come here you hope it’s on calmer terms, with more time to check out all the hike trails and rock pools by the beach, but for today, aimlessly floating in a lake to sooth your sore muscles sounds perfectly ideal.

San’s bare ass is a pretty welcome sight, too.

“A cheeky skinny dip, huh?” you muse aloud, “Have fun getting whatever bacteria this lake has to offer, I’m keeping my jocks on.”

“Oh please, like that’d help that much.”

“It literally would though, that’s a whole additional barrier!”

“It’s still gonna soak through though, so if it’s in the water, you’re fucked.”

“Is that why you want me naked so bad? So I can be fucked?” you tease, wading into the water with him – still slightly warm from the daylight, but no doubt quickly cooling with the setting of the sun in the horizon.

San shrugs cheekily, submerged up to his shoulders in the murky depths, ducking under the water to drench himself entirely then dramatically flip his hair back upon breaching the surface. “Maybe.”

“Horny bastard,” you huff, splashing him in the face and making him cough and splutter, only for him to splash you back twice as hard. “Pffuah— stop, stop! I’ll stop, I’m too tired for a splash fight.”

“Okay, okay,” San hums, relenting his assault to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you instead. You sigh and lean into his gentle embrace. “I was joking, anyway. I’m way too tired and sore to be doing any fucking right now.”

So are you. The more you think about it, the less the thought of getting it on seemed appealing, the ache in your muscles dragging you down like lead. The cold water was nice, though, and the reprieve of San’s warm body amongst it even nicer, so you just stay there for a whole, tucked under his chin and listening to the steady beating of his heart.

It’s exactly what you needed after such a long day. Probably what San needed too, if the way he sighs in relief into your hair is any indicator, then presses a kiss atop your head. “This is kinda romantic, isn’t it?”

“Romantic?” His tone is playful, but the conversation you had with Sunwoo still lingers on your mind. You find yourself at a loss for words. “What about it?”

San leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder and press a kiss there, invoking a shiver. It has little to do with the temperature. “The scenery, for one. This lake is beautiful. The sunset. Holding you like this. Is it not nice?”

You blink twice, trying to process what this man is saying to you. Does he mean romantic as in nice? An interesting choice of wording, that’s for sure – but maybe you’re overthinking it. You’re probably overthinking it. You’re definitely overthinking it. Had Sunwoo not said anything, you probably wouldn’t have thought twice about him saying that. Saying it so seriously, even. Though the initial question did sound like a bit of a joke, so he’s probably joking. Or something.

“No?”

You snap out of your thoughts to reply to him. “No, it is nice— it’s really nice. Just what I needed after all of... y’know.”

“After all of Eric’s bullshit?” he suggests helpfully, and you don’t need to see his little cat-like grin to know it’s there.

“You said it, not me.”

He laughs, placing his hands on your shoulders and twisting you around to face him. You don’t know how he manages to smile so blindingly after the hell he has been through today, especially as one of the few band members who had no background dancing, but he gave it his all. You admire that about him, how he’s so hard-working and so soft-hearted but in a way that he needs to be tough to be; the fact that he always remains soft under the pressure of the world trying to harden him, is toughness in its own right. A fuzzy feeling sprouts in your chest, such deep fondness, and it’s enough to ease a bit of the lingering tension. He leans in for a kiss, not quite a quick peck but nothing deeper; just a kiss for the sake of a kiss, one that lingers, then he pulls you back into his arms and pushes your face into his neck.

San’s always been like this, so it really shouldn’t be as flustering as it is. After all, he’s the reason your band started being as touchy with each other as they are now – from kissing the homies goodnight. He’s just overly affectionate like that. Has his heart always beat this fast when you did, though?

Has yours?

You wonder if he can hear it.

You think about how easy it would be to tell him you love him right now. The words could just roll off your tongue; I love you. Things wouldn’t have to change. San would probably just be happy to hear it, say it back, and kiss you breathless. Yet, something about that thought makes your words get caught in your throat. It would be so simple. Too simple, even, because what would he mean, when he says it back? What would you mean?

“Do you want us to be more than friends?”

San’s skin feels even hotter to touch, or maybe that’s just you. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him, lips drawn into a slight pout, and it makes you feel like eating sandpaper, so you pull him back in and bury your face in his broad chest once more. You have always been weak for San’s pout, even if you’re the one making him do it on purpose because it’s just so cute. You know Wooyoung does it for the same reason, he’s said so, and you never miss the way his eyes crinkle with glee when it works. For Wooyoung, bothering his loved ones is his life’s greatest joy, and there’s nothing quite like the glow of a man in his element. You can picture him smiling at San like that right now, calling him a baby and calling you whipped.

“Do you want to date us? Be romantic with us, tell us those three words you’ve been too scared to say for too long, take us on dates that are explicitly dates, call us yours? Is that what you want?”

You kiss him, and nothing more, over and over again, until you finally stop thinking. He picks you up for your legs to wrap around his waist, weight supported by the water around you. He doesn’t ask questions nor complain, only pulling you in closer, and when you feel him harden against you, there’s no pressure to address it.

When that only makes each kiss feel even more intimate somehow, it starts to dawn on the edges of your mind that you may be well and truly fucked.

After three days of more torture, you have just about reached your limit. You thought Eric would have calmed down after the initial fight, but it seemed to instead just put him on edge the whole time – you and the others quickly realise he is not about to pull that stick out of his ass until you get that win against Stray Kids, and if the next round is still in another three days, then to hell with all of you in the meantime.

Usually, you would just fuck it out. Shockingly, having an outlet for all the pent-up frustration does wonders for trying to sort out problems, but you can tell it’s different this time; even if Eric did let you sleep with him, you aren’t entirely sure he would calm down completely. Still, selfishly enough, you could do with it for the release on your end, as your other physical outlet being dance is no longer cathartic when it’s the cause of half your frustration.

At this point you would have just grabbed one of the other members after practice, but morale is at an all-time low and everyone just seems tired. Eric has always been the energizer of the group, and you realise just how much you all relied on him now that he’s no longer filling that role. Even Wooyoung and Sunwoo’s attempts at joking around and lightening the mood have been falling a little flat, and you can see the toll it’s taking on them too. Tension lingers in the air even when you are not fighting, and as nice as the view of the Sohn’s lakeview lodge is, all you’ve wanted to do since you’ve arrived is get out.

The reception isn’t the best out in the woods, so you find yourself climbing one of the tall, sturdy trees by the lodge to see who you can call. Not necessarily for a booty call, maybe sort of a booty call, but more importantly just someone to talk to who isn’t your band; though you quickly realise how few people you actually talk to outside of your band. Most are friends or acquaintances from within the industry, and the last thing you need right now is to spread gossip about your own band to the event organisers, or worse, your competitors – but as you scroll through your messages, something about the latter sticks out to you.

You call Lino.

The idea is not your best one, you have to admit, but you’re definitely intrigued to find out what kind of metaphorical ditch you will wind up waking up in by doing this. Your last interactions with Lino made it very clear the way he operates – it’s a trade-off. He is not beyond gossiping about his own team, so if you pry well enough, you can get something juicy – the caveat being, he remembers everything you say as well, and will use it against you. Which only makes this idea even worse the more you think about it, since it would not take much for him to smell blood in the water and something like a fight among your band would be far too easy to prey on, but you already pressed call.

You are not exactly known for your good life decisions.

“Hello?”

The voice that picks up is already a lot warmer and richer than Lino’s light and airy voice, which raises every alarm all at once, but it’s definitely not a recognisable enough voice to match a face to. One of the other lost kids, that much you can tell, but that’s it.

“He…llo? This isn’t Lino.”

A laugh filters through the receiver. “No, it’s not. I stole his phone and he still hasn’t noticed yet.”

Whoever this is, you like him already, you decide. That’s the kind of mischief you can get behind.

“Wow. And who might this be? Another stray kid?”

A tongue click. “That’s right. Makes me wonder why my beloved hyung is getting a call from the enemy.”

The reference to you as an enemy has you not knowing how to feel about it. The same term has left your lips about them on more than one occasion, but perhaps part of you has always been aware of how one-sided your feud with them really is, though, you suppose with your tendency to meddle and pick fights, that’s been quickly fixing itself. You can acknowledge you have been creating drama, but to hell with it, you think. You’ve meant every damn word you’ve said this whole time.

“Heh. Well that’s for me to know and you to wonder, hmm? What makes you think I’d tell you? I don’t even know who you are.”

You hear the ping of him turning his camera on, and pull your phone back from your ear to see a familiar enough face staring back at you. Now the fact that you didn’t recognise him from his voice alone is almost embarrassing – that rich baritone carries their songs, and you’ve done enough internet stalking all of them to know the rest by face now.

“Ah. You’re Seungmin, right?” You switch on your own camera and fix your hair in a way you hope seems nonchalant, but you know it’s a poor attempt to hide the absolute wreck you must look like right now, covered in sweat and hair sticking out in every which direction. “I don’t think we’ve ever actually talked.”

“No, you’ve been a bit too busy digging into my bandmates– are you in a fucking tree?”

You instinctively glance behind you, as if not expecting a tree to be there, when you are, in fact, quite literally, sitting in a tree. The movement is so fast you wobble a bit on the branch you perched on, but it holds steady, and you regain your balance quick enough.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m in a tree. Long story.”

“I got time.” Seungmin’s expression remains unreadable as he pulls the strings of his hoodie and flops backward onto presumably his bed, possibly Lino’s or god knows who else’s, and gets comfortable. “Why you in a tree?”

“Why do you care? I called Lino, not you.”

He rolls his eyes, then flicks the phone camera loud enough to make an audible thwack as if he just flicked your forehead. “No shit you called Lino, this is his phone. But I’m bored, a little nosy, and a shockingly good listener, so I’ve been told, so indulge me a little. If you’re not going to tell me why you called Lino, at least tell me why you’re in a tree, I’m curious now.”

“You’re more interested as to why I’m in a tree than to why I called Lino?”

“Mmm, maybe equally as interested. I just figure you wouldn’t tell me why you called Lino even if I did pry, but I’m gonna just assume it’s a booty call.”

You snort. He’s a little more right than you want him to be, but you don’t know if you want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that yet.

“Well, the short version is that the reception out here is dogshit, so I climbed a tree.” You flip the camera and show him how high up you are, and nearly drop the damn thing however many feet below to a tragic death among the pinecones.

“Woah, nice view!” You flip the camera back around to your face to grin a little smugly. “Surely you don’t live out there in the woods, do you?”

“Ah, no, just out here for, uh… boot camp. Decided we needed to start taking practice more seriously since we have some actual competition this year, so we took the week off work and fucked off to one of the guys’ holiday homes.” You deliberately leave out the part where it’s kind of sort of technically trespassing, despite how curious you are to hear his reaction to it. “Hence. Tree.”

Seungmin nods along, cutely playing with the hoodie drawstrings and pulling them up past his chin with the hand not holding his phone. You’d think he was on FaceTime with someone a lot closer than a near stranger, but you suppose his cute charms just come naturally to him. “Damn, respect. We’ve more or less been doing the same this whole time, but more of us are unemployed than not, so, at least we don’t need to worry too much about taking time off work. Well, in Innie and I’s cases it’s taking time off classes, but, he barely shows up to classes anymore anyway.”

“Y’all studying?” Now that you think about it, you don’t know much about the group’s personal lives beyond Felix and Chan – Felix, obviously from knowing him through Eric since he was still doing his tattoo apprenticeship, and Chan’s digital presence informed you he did music full-time, selling the beats he doesn’t use himself. You remember their friend Jisung being a DJ at parties, and saw him doing music online as well, Changbin too but with less of a presence – but none of them were big enough to explain the ridiculous budget Stray Kids stages have been having. Either the few employed members are raking in dough, or someone comes from money, and you bet your meagre savings on the latter.

“Yeah, I’m studying music, vocals mostly. Also composing, music industry, music history, photography and videography, and Japanese as an elective ‘cause it’s fun.”

“Jesus,” you exhale, “That’s… a lot.”

He chuckles, pulling his hoodie back down to hide his face less. Even in its entirety, you can’t read any of it. “Yeah, it’s good fun.”

You expect him to elaborate on that more, but he doesn’t, making you crinkle your nose. “What about the others? You all students or?”

Seungmin shakes his head. “Nah, just me and Innie, he’s also studying music performance. The rachas – our production line, that is, Chan, Changbin, and Hannie – they all do music pretty much full-time, except Changbin who is also a part-timer at a gym. Personal trainer. Lino’s a viral sensation on YouTube for making cat videos, it’s shockingly enough to pay rent. I’m sure you already know what Lix does, and Hyunjin, well, apparently you know about that too.”

You snicker. “Funnily enough, we found out that one completely on accident.”

“You’d have had to,” Seungmin says slowly with a knowing grin, “We make sure to keep those profiles completely separate.”

Whatever other sentences your mind tried to come up with quickly fizzle out as you process his choice of wording.

“We?”

He laughs, light and melodic, and his face shines with such cutesy innocence you are shocked to hear him allude to engaging in creating such content. “Yeah, we. How do you think he sets up the camera and everything while tied up like that?”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the realisation that Seungmin was the rigger from the one stream you caught, and remembering how intricate the ropework was, you find a sudden deep respect for him blooming as a craftsman.

“Wait, you’re his rigger?”

“I’m his boyfriend, but yeah, his rigger too. So, sorry if I piss you off at the competition and you can’t suck my dick about it, it’s a real tragedy.”

He practically just handed you a formal invitation to think about his dick, so you rip it out of his hands with a sly smirk. “Aw, why not? That’s never stopped Mingi or Wooyoung. You could tie me up all pretty, too.”

Not that it’s a particularly good idea to let a practical stranger tie you up in a full-body rope harness, but you don’t expect him to actually get to that point, more so just teasing the idea. While you definitely expected some sort of reaction, the quirk of his brow and beat of silence is certainly more than you bargained for.

“Y’know, I’m starting to wonder if at this point you just want the whole band as notches on your belt.”

Were you anyone else, that might have even stung, but you shrug it off in earnest.

“Maybe I do. But truthfully, it’s like, ninety-percent more to do with the fact that each and every one of you are smoking hot. Like, I may be cocky and hypersexual, but even I have standards, and you all more than exceed them, so sue me for shooting my shot.”

His eyes widen slightly at that, and you wonder if he doesn’t get told how good looking he is that often. Granted, his face is a lot softer and sweeter compared to the more visually striking faces of his bandmates, but he’s still incredibly handsome by every means of the word. The likelihood of your assumption quickly decreases when he follows it up.

“I can respect that. I am quite a catch, aren’t I?”

You snort, not prepared for his response. “Yeah, I’d say so. So, if you and your prettyboy boyfriend are ever looking to spice things up, feel free to call. On or off camera.”

“Damn, you’re bold.” He chuckles again in what seems to be mild disbelief, to which, he really should have known better, but you suppose you can let it slide on the account that he’s never interacted with you personally until now. “I’ve haven’t had that conversation with him yet, but don’t get your hopes up. He’s quite the possessive type.”

The dopey smile and fond tilt of his head when he says that tells you that he doesn’t really mind that one bit.

“Aw, shame. I was already thinking about all the fun we could get up to together!”

It’s not as sarcastic as you make it sound with your sing-song tone; having already wanted to give Hyunjin hell since that first stream, and almost but not quite regrettably, more after, the thought of teaming up with someone as seemingly sly as Seungmin, to do a number on him was beyond appealing, but you suppose you can’t always win them all. It’s only then what a relevant thought hits you.

“Wait, but what about him and San?”

“Ah.” He at least doesn’t seem surprised to hear about it, so you’re glad you at least didn’t just throw San under the bus with that one. “Hence the yet on the conversation. I don’t know. We were all arguing, tensions were high, he and San grabbed each other by the shirt, he looked at me before he kissed San and right after, too. It felt like he was asking for permission, so I just… I don’t know. It’s not something I’d really thought much about till then, but I was curious. I can’t say it felt right, but I kind of just wanted to watch and see what happened anyway? I probably should have said something to stop them, but I just shrugged and nodded at him, let him decide if he wants to do that. Think I was angrier about it than I thought I was, but with everything going on I couldn’t really isolate that feeling yet. So I just kept arguing.”

At the mention of all the arguing, you’re coldly reminded that the very man you are talking to, probably said some really nasty things about you and the people you care most about, but you shove that aside for now. As aggressive as you tend to be, the long week prior just has you tired of arguing with just about fucking everyone, and you don’t know if you like that that says about you.

As if the situation between the bands couldn’t get any messier, yet more relationships get tangled in the web of drama. You always wonder why people cling so hard to the concept of monogamy when another alternative presents itself, but you suppose it’s easier to avoid the work it takes to communicate with people that much when you can just expect someone to avoid making you feel bad by default. At least this time you aren’t the one at the centre of it, but either way you can’t take all the blame when it takes two to tango in the first place.

“Oh jeez, that’s messy. And you haven’t talked about it at all? It’s been days, dude, why not?”

“Why do you care?” he huffs with a laugh, dryly throwing your own words back at you.

“I’m bored, nosy, and a shockingly good listener,” you retort right back at him. “Indulge me a little, sticking my nose into other people’s drama is a great distraction from my own. Plus, an outsider’s perspective might even be useful, who knows?”

Seungmin’s lips flatten into a line, staring up at the ceiling past the camera and debating it internally before rolling onto his side with a sigh. He looks so cozy, wrapped up in his hoodie and now snuggled up to a big fluffy pillow he rests on, his other hand propping up his phone to give you the perspective of two close friends talking at a sleepover, and not rival strangers, just one of which sitting atop a random ass tree.

“I feel like I’ll regret this, but, well, suppose you’re the only one I can talk to who doesn’t know either of us well enough to be biased, so… sure. Though there’s not much to be biased about actually. I don’t think. Basically he just… I thought he was gonna talk about it afterward, but instead he just ended up getting noticeably more possessive… like, needs to be clinging to me at all times, glaring at everyone else who tries, referring to me as his boyfriend more than usual. I’m not sure what’s up with that, since he’s the one who slept with San, but we’ve been too busy and stressed with practice to really have a chance to talk about it yet.”

“Ah.” You nod along, figuring that they must be taking the competition just as serious as your band is to come up with such show-stopping stages, so you relate to the stress that would probably make it a bad time to have such a conversation. “That’s rough. How do you feel about it all, though?”

Seungmin has to stop and think about it for a moment, shoving his face deeper into his fluffy pillow and looking down at the sheets instead of his phone screen. “I… I think I’m more upset that he’s acting so strangely about it than the fact that he did it in the first place. Makes it look like he feels guilty about doing it and is tryna be extra possessive to make up for it, or something, which… means he must’ve felt like he was doing something wrong when he did it. I don’t think it’s technically cheating, because he did pause to check in with me and he wasn’t trying to hide anything, but… we probably should’ve actually talked about it first.”

“Yeah, you can say that part again,” you huff. “Shockingly, sitting down and talking about your issues tends to solve them. Most of the time.”

He seems to be able to read through your tight-lipped expression, looking back up at the camera again.

“Something tells me the drama you’re distracting yourself from with mine, wasn’t solved that easily.”

“Yeah, well.” You pause, trying to think of how much you would be willing to share with the other team, considering you have no idea if Seungmin is the type to run his mouth or not. “It… yeah. Not that easy this time, unfortunately. Our plan B – or, plan A, sometimes, honestly – is usually to just. Fuck out all our emotions then talk about it calmly. But this time the hurt person decided to revoke that, well, technically he said he wouldn’t bottom for us anymore so maybe that still is on the table, but it just feels different. I don’t think he wants to go about it like that this time, and our other attempt didn’t work either and just made us even more tired and wired and I’m reaching my limit with these guys. Probably would do me some good to take a drive back into town, but I’m not sure what I’d do there. Work a shift at the Prism, maybe try go home with a stranger? I dunno. I’m not as keen on hooking up with strangers anymore, they don’t always like the same things I like and usually aren’t as down to sit down and talk about it beforehand so its just mid. But my other physical outlet has always been dancing, which, is all I’ve been doing lately and half of why I’m so frustrated.”

He nods along much like you did, humming at certain points to indicate his attention. “Right. So you just want an outlet for all that frustration, huh?”

“Basically. Or maybe just a break. Who knows.”

“I like boxing as an outlet,” he suggests helpfully, “Helps to print out the face of whoever you’re pissed at on a punching bag.”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” you hum, already thinking of which photo of Eric you should print out. You aren’t sure if Seungmin is extending an invitation or not, but either way it’s a good suggestion. You decide to throw out a line, just in case, and see what he does. “Doesn’t punching something over and over get kinda boring, though? Suppose that’s what you get a sparring partner for though.”

“Does fucking someone over and over get boring?” He asks cheekily, and you certainly were not ready for that response, so you splutter.

“Does- no, of course it doesn’t get boring. Not when your partners are hot and good at what they’re doing and – lets just say, we spice things up enough to keep things exciting.”

“Like what, jacking off to Hyunjin’s streams?”

“I guess, yeah. Among more exciting things. You’re not the only rigger around, y’know.”

Seungmin smiles and runs a hand through his hair, exposing his forehead more, which frames his features a lot differently; you start to get a glimpse of what you think Hyunjin sees before his streams in the was he grins so deviously at you. “Are you trying to one-up me?”

“In what, being a kinky freak?” you snort, not really seeing how even this is meant to be a competition, even if it did, admittedly, kind of feel like it. Just talking to any of the Stray Kids at all seems to draw out your competitive streak. “I mean, I reckon I’d have a fair run at topping it, but I’m not gonna pretend I’m the kinkiest degenerate in town. That’s Wooyoung for sure.”

He laughs and it’s shockingly melodic, which is a little unfair to all the people who laugh like they’re dying. “Really? Now that’s be interesting, who has the more questionable Pornhub search history, Wooyoung or Hannie…”

“Wow, way to rat out your own,” you chuckle, and you find yourself really enjoying your interactions with this Seungmin guy. He seems pretty alright so far. “Found him stumbling out of my apartment last week when I got home after the last round. Sunwoo sure did a number on him.”

“Yup, and he hasn’t shut up about it since,” Seungmin drawls with what seems like a rather fond eyeroll. “I think he saw God that night. Changbin is pissed about it. Thinks he’s stooping too low, or something. I wonder what he’ll think about you and Chan?”

Static sounds play in your brain until you can catch up with him. “He doesn’t know about me and Chan? You know about me and Chan?”

“Uh, yeah, genius, you were both at each other’s throats last we saw you and then you were both gone. Not rocket science. Chan isn’t blabbing, if that’s what you’re worried about. Though I kind of wish he would. How was it? I hear he’s a real romantic, but I have my bets on him being quite the tease.”

“You spend this much time thinking about what your homies are like in bed?”

The no-hesitation response sends Seungmin’s eyebrows shooting upward for a split-second, and a slightly twisted sense of satisfaction fills you at being the one to have a gotcha moment with that one, rather than being on the other end. You don’t like the realisation that more than one person has tried to call you out for that. You try not to think about it.

“Just… curious, I guess. It just comes up in conversation sometimes! It’s not that weird. You can tell me. I’m sure I can nag it out of him later, anyway.”

“Last time I shared anything juicy with a stray kid, he used it against me,” you hum, sounding less hurt and more amused at whatever he’s playing at. “Surely I get something just as interesting in return, as a guarantee, of sorts?”

Seungmin thinks about it, stroking his chin through a comically big sweater paw. “Not sure what kind of dirt I could give you. My boyfriend’s cock and hole is on the internet for everyone to see, you can gage a pretty good guess of what we get up to behind the screen based on what he does on the screen. I don’t really have much to hide.”

“Dirt on the others, then? You mentioned Han’s search history…”

“Ah, our Jisungie,” Seungmin coos, a smile taking over his face again at the mention of his bandmate. “Suppose I could throw him under the bus a little more. I think he’d like it if I did, honestly. Humiliation kink n’all that. Not that he’d admit it. But he doesn’t have to, it’s written all over him and the guys he likes. Hell, the girls too. If you teased him about it, it’d probably make his dick hard.”

“Really now? Oh, now that is so enticing… how bad is he gonna kill you for that one?”

“Really bad,” Seungmin chortles, muffling his laugh behind his sweater paw. “He gets worked up pretty easily, but cools down just as quick, only to fire up again as soon as you prod him. We used to fight a lot, when the band first got together, but I think we’re past that now. Since meeting you guys, though, it’s like his diss track era all over again… it’s been fun how angry he’s gotten over it all, and now he’s just angry at how good Sunwoo was in bed. It’s so cute. Seeing him get all competitive is also cute. He gets flustered easily, but then he’s surprisingly witty. Cocky, too. Haven’t seen that side of him offstage since he was still beefing with Hyunjin.”

He clearly has no idea how much material he is giving you to work with, probably thinking the humiliation kink was the meat of the information, but you absolutely soak up the details on how this man reacts to things. You won’t be caught off guard, not by him or anyone else on that team, and you are increasingly confident that the next round will absolutely rip them a new one.

“Is that so… alright, I’ll bite. Chan… is a lot crueller than he seems. But I can see how he’d be the romantic type in any other situation… I think I bring out his mean side, though. It’s pretty fun,” you muse, to avoid saying it’s pretty hot instead. “He’s very… patient. Frustratingly so. Not as much of a pushover as I thought he’d be.”

“You’re being awfully vague on purpose,” Seungmin points out blankly, “so I’m going to assume it was hot as fuck and he fucked you so good you’re ashamed to admit it.”

You really don’t like how fucking perceptive he is, you decide.

“Well, I’d definitely go with him another round.” You try to sound nonchalant as you shrug and act unbothered, because if your assumptions are right, he will go running to Chan as soon as you hang up the phone. “Next time though, it’ll be at my place on my terms. We’ll see how long he lasts.”

You hear the filtered sound of the door opening, and Seungmin stiffens, but grins. “I’ve heard all I need to hear. Lino just got home though, so I gotta dip– DM me if you wanna spar sometime. I think it’ll be fun to punch you.”

“Hey!”

He hangs up, and you’re left sitting in a tree with more questions than you have answers for. Your body aches as you make your way down the tree to head back for dinner, then practice, then sleep, then even more practice, and you wonder if you’ll have time to drive back into the city to try boxing somewhere in between. Probably not.

You get the feeling this won’t be the last of your interactions with Seungmin regardless.

Arms wrap around your waist from behind, suddenly finding yourself pressed back against someone’s firm chest. You look down at his hands, listen for the scuffles of the others’ feet on the dance floor of the practice room and voices talking, then chuck out a guess without turning to look at the mirror.

“Sunwoo?”

“Gotcha.” He pulls you back, out of the room into the sunlight and the refreshingly cool breeze of the woods. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you. We literally live together!”

“Yeah, that makes it really fucking easy to tell when someone’s avoiding you.”

Have you been avoiding him? It definitely has not been a conscious attempt to do so, but you suppose the urge to avoid his intense gaze has probably resulted in you avoiding him somewhat altogether. You aren’t sure what to tell him.

“I haven’t been trying to avoid you,” you mumble, slumping back into his embrace so he has to practically hold your entire body weight, leaning back on the outside wall of the rec room. “But I guess I’ve been doing it unintentionally. I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.”

“It’s okay,” Sunwoo hums, resting his chin on your head. “You gonna tell me why, or nah?”

“I think you know why,” you mutter, glad for how he holds you from behind so you can stare out at the scenery around you rather than have to meet his eye.

“Humour me.”

“I don’t think I will, Sunwoo,” you sigh, exhausted from this game of cat and mouse you’ve been playing. “There’s just. A lot going on, right now. I’m tired. Stressed and tired.”

He accepts your subject change gracefully, hugging you tighter and humming in agreement. “I could tell. We all are, but you seem to be taking this all the worst after Eric.”

You snort. “Really? So why aren’t you comforting Eric about it, then?”

“You saw how he is. I don’t think he wants comfort from any of us except Kevin until we bring home another win.”

“I really thought this would help him,” you confess, voice small. It makes you ache a little. “It seemed like the perfect idea. Give him a sense of control and respect and trust in us again, focus on our art, kick some ass. I just didn’t expect him to kick ours.”

He chuckles, and you feel it rumble in his chest against your back. Grounding. “Yeah, me neither. That’s why I’m leaving that one to Kevin and coming to you instead.”

“Well, thanks.” You twist around in his arms to give him an appreciative peck to the lips, then immediately twist back around towards the scenery at how just seeing his face up that close again made your heartbeat faster. His presence feels so much more intense since that conversation, which is likely why you ended up being so avoidant.

“Turn around and look at me.”

“Huh?” You do, withholding the urge to visibly gulp at the way he smirks down at you and cups your cheek.

“You’re really cute when you’re too flustered to look me in the eye. Have you been having feeeelings about me?” he teases, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and fizzling out the last coherent thought you had in your brain.

“It’s– It’s a feeling alright,” you stammer, trying so hard not to shy away from his gaze. “One of them, for sure.”

“Mm, I wonder which one,” he presses further, leaning in to dust kisses along your jawline, stopping at your neck just to breathe over it. “But you don’t even know that for yourself yet, do you?”

You shiver, clutching tightly at his hips. “I– I don’t know. Everything has been so insane lately and I don’t wanna add to all that at such a stressful time for everyone, y’know?”

He pulls back with a sympathetic smile and strokes your hair. “This is the most stressed I’ve seen you in a while. Been waiting for you to ask me or the others to help you do something about it, but you haven’t. Why?”

Perceptive as ever, Sunwoo sees right through you like fucking glass. To a point where it would be almost humiliating if it weren’t exactly what you needed a lot of the time. “Because everyone is tired and sore and needing to be in tip-top shape if we’re gonna endure any more of Eric’s boot camp hell. This is the kind of frustration I’d take out on Wooyoung that’d have him sitting on a bag of frozen peas and calling out of work for the night.”

“Ooh,” Sunwoo chuckles with a smirk, “that frustrated, huh? Well, I don’t enjoy pain that much, but I can fuck the frustration out of you if you want—”

“Tempting as that sounds,” you muse aloud with a click of your tongue, “I don’t wanna put your body through any more stress than Eric already is. You’re not a dancer, you must be sore all over.”

“I am,” Sunwoo confesses, “But I don’t need to exert myself. C’mon, you needa de-stess.”

“Sunwoo…” A smile is already tugging at your lips however, and you both know you don’t have it in you to deny him.

“C’mon.” He has a cheeky grin as he waddles you down the hill with him back towards the lodge, ushering you to his room. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

He’s confident. He always is, never failing to lure you in and get you where he wants. If that happens to be his bed, then in his bed you will be, trapped in his embrace on the edge of the bed, right in front of a full-length mirror. Sunwoo is a bit vain like that, or perhaps just voyeuristic. Probably just voyeuristic, if the way he left the bedroom door wide open is any indicator, but such isn’t uncommon when it’s only the band around. This time, at least, the lodge seems empty.

Sunwoo takes his time kissing along your neck and trailing his hands along your body, under your clothes, and you sigh and lean back against him, letting your eyes flutter shut and focus on the feeling of his plush lips and calloused guitarist’s fingers. There’s no rush. You know he could do this all day, and it has you relaxing into it so much you jolt and gasp when he bites down on your neck just as hard as you like it. The dark chuckle he lets out at your whine is telling; he has you right where he wants you, playing your body like a fiddle.

He turns your head towards him and pulls you into a heated kiss, slow yet eager, savouring every brush of lips and taste of tongue. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world and he wants to spend all of it just feeling you against him, your lips on his lips and your skin under his palms and his hardness against your back when he pulls you closer.

A hand slips down your pants but not past your underwear, simply cupping you there, idly teasing as he proceeds to kiss you, and you find yourself subtly shifting your hips up into his touch for more pressure. You know if you tried to egg him on any further he’d pull away immediately, so your keep your hands firmly planted on his thighs encasing yours, giving them an encouraging squeeze.

“Want more, baby?” he breathes into your ear, the air making you shiver.

“Please.” You don’t have the energy for his teasing, or any of the usual back and forth. You’ve had enough of that lately, and at least with Sunwoo, you don’t feel too embarrassed to beg. “Just touch me.”

“Your wish is my command, prince.”

His hand finally slips into your underwear and touches you where you need him most, gathering your wetness on his fingers and slowly circling your clit. Too slow. It does it’s intended purpose of riling you up, but you don’t need to be even more riled up right now, you need to let off steam—

“Relax,” he murmurs when your hips buck up more into him. “Just focus on feeling all of it, okay? You’re gonna tire yourself out quickly if you’re that eager.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, slipping a finger into you and replacing its spot on your clit with his thumb.

“Sunwoo, please,” you beg again, and you see him smirk down at himself in the mirror. That little shit. He’s enjoying your desperation a little too much for someone who claims he just wants you to relax. “I need more.”

“Well, shit,” Sunwoo hisses, slipping a second finger in and finally quickening the pace and pressure of his fingers, your body singing under his onslaught. “When you ask that prettily, how am I supposed to deny you, mm?”

Your head falls onto his shoulder, just in perfect range for him to start sucking on it again, no doubt on his way to leave a very visible mark behind. “Y-You don’t,” you manage to gasp out, and he smirks against your skin.

“Don’t get too used to it, prince. You might find me feeling a lot more cruel another day.”

You want to groan out, I know, but his fingers working their magic don’t let you, and you honestly welcome the way it makes your mind go blank, watching him through the mirror looking so focused and so into making you feel good, completely ignoring himself. Your eyes flutter shut just as you are interrupted by his phone ringing.

“Motherfucker—”

“Shhh.”

He doesn’t remove his hand from between your legs as he uses his other one to grab his phone from his pocket and answer it, lazily drawing circles on you with his thumb while grinning at you in the mirror. You know you’re trapped now, because you can’t quite recognise the muffled voice on the other line, and if it’s someone important, possibly even related to the band, you can’t risk ruining it for him by making a sound.

“Oh? No, I’m not busy,” he lies smugly, making direct eye contact with you while he says it and slipping in another finger. “Why, I didn’t expect you to call so soon. Missing me already?”

Your eyebrows raise at that comment, noticing the flirty lilt in his voice and trying to figure out who the fuck he would be talking to like that. It doesn’t sound like any of your bandmates, giving he wasn’t expecting the call, unless it was maybe Eric? You mouth him the question, but he pointedly ignores you and resumes curling his fingers in you so deliciously you have to bite your lip to stay quiet.

“That’s so pathetic it’s cute,” he giggles, and now you’re even more curious. There’s no way it would be Eric, not in the mood he’s been in, you think he would punch something if anyone tried to call him pathetic right now. “Oh, you poor little thing. I’m out of town right now, so you’re stuck there on your own.” He clicks his tongue at the other person’s reply. “I meant I wasn’t too busy to hear how you’re touching yourself for me and the things you’re thinking about me in explicit detail, so do go on.”

You widen your eyes again, pulse thrumming with the excitement of how dirty it all is, and with Sunwoo’s movements quickening you only hope that whoever’s on the other end of the line can’t hear your breathing quicken with it. Or maybe you hope they do.

He suddenly stops as the other person keeps talking, and next thing you know he’s propping his phone up between his face and shoulder and pulling at your pants. When you start to shimmy them off, he reaches for his own, pulling them down just enough to let his cock spring free, already dribbling precum.

“What am I doing? What do you think I’m doing, cutie? I’m taking my cock out. You sound so fucking delicious for me, baby.”

You don’t need to be told what to do, shifting back to meet him and hovering over his length, earning a hiss from him as he leans back and lets you rub the tip against your entrance. “Yeah? You gonna take me?” he pants into the phone, meeting your eye in the mirror as he says it. You sink down on him all at once and the moan he lets out is a guttural one. “Fuck, good boy.”

You hear a whine on the other end and it’s so tempting to just snatch the phone out of his hand and put it on speaker, let you in on the action too, but it doesn’t take long for him to practically read your mind and do it himself.

“Oh? You want to show me? Let me see your cute little cock then, princess.”

“Fuck,” the voice on the other end whimpers, broken and airy, and it becomes a video call request that he accepts with only audio on his end first. You aren’t sure who you were expecting to see, but when the screen comes up with the same man who you met stumbling out of your apartment last week, leaning back on the bed with cock in hand, ass plugged with a pretty pink gem, and a thin sheen of sweat sticking a few strands of his long, silky hair to his face.

“Mmm, so pretty for me, Jisung-ah,” he coos, voice shaky from how you slowly move up and down on him – or try to, but he stops you with his free hand and gives you a stern look you know is because he wanted you not to do any of the work. “You like showing off for me?”

He nods profusely, fucking his fist and scrambling down to reach for the plug to fuck it into his hole too. “Love it, love your eyes on me, fuck, wanna see you too, please, I bet you look so hot right now hyung…”

As far as you know, the two of them are the same age, and you suppose that’s why the honourific brings such a smug look to Sunwoo’s face. “’Hyung’? Not wanting to be my pretty little princess anymore, hmm?”

Jisung whines again even more needily, the lighting in his room is dim through the closed curtains but just enough evening sunlight peeks through to reflect off the wetness oozing from his tip as he lazily strokes it. “A-Ah, c’mon, please…”

“Please what?”

He shifts around on the bed a bit with his eyes squeezed shut, pulling an arm over his face to hide in his elbow while he mumbles, “Please, oppa.”

“That’s a good little girl,” Sunwoo rasps lowly, the praise making Jisung’s ministrations quicker, and you have to bite your hand to muffle a laugh at the sheer humiliation of it all, and just how easy it was. How perfectly pathetic. “Want me to put on a show for you?”

You know the real question he’s asking and to whom; do you want him to see us like this? You nod at him through the mirror and tap the camera icon for him, pointing the camera ahead so you he could see you both.

“Good thing you caught me at such a good time, then. You have such a good show to enjoy.”

Jisung freezes up, eye blowing wide at where his phone is propped up on something in front of him, and for a second you think he’s going to dive for it to hang up but instead he throws his head back so hard against the headboard you think it would have hurt, gasping and whimpering as he comes all over his fist, hips thrashing wildly and thick ropes of white painting his slutty little muscle tee, even from where it’s pulled up over his abs.

“What the– what the– what the fuck, Sunwoo!” he whines, still frantically jerking his cock and twitching violently at the overstim, burying his cute little face in his arm again, too embarrassed to face you himself but not too embarrassed to cum to it. Or maybe it was the embarrassment that made him cum in the first place. “You– you said you weren’t busy–“

“I never said I was alone, baby. Besides, we weren’t busy. Were we, prince? Just hangin’ out, right?”

“No, not busy. Just relaxing.” You flash a smarmy grin right back at him, grinding down on his cock with an over-exaggerated sigh, throwing your head back onto his shoulder again and spreading your legs to make sure Jisung was getting a nice view. After all, he deserves a treat for the humiliation the two of you just put him through.

“You– You’re a dick,” Jisung pants out, slowly pulling his arm away to pull his boxers back on. “Can’t believe you made me say that in front of him–“

“You love my dick,” Sunwoo sassed him back, passing you the phone so he could grab your hips and take over, pulling you up and thrusting up into you slowly. “Needa split you open on it again. Maybe they can watch. Don’t worry, they didn’t hear our whole conversation, only the video call – I’m sure he’d love to see it for himself instead, though.”

You moan, rubbing yourself as Sunwoo bounces you up and down and trying to keep the camera steady, “Oh, fuck I sure would. Would you be my good little girl, too?”

“You’re both so mean,” he complains again, and you find yourself quite liking the little pout on his face when he does it. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away, however, reaching forward to grab his phone from whatever it was propped up on his bed to get a better look. “Fuck… you look so hot like that though…”

Showing off a little more, you pull yourself off Sunwoo so Jisung could see his cock in all it’s glory, thick and veiny and oh-so-picturesque, and simply rub your pussy against it, both gasping when your clit and his head collide.

“Fuck, hold on,” Sunwoo mutters, reaching down to his luggage on the floor and rummaging for a bit before pulling out a sleek bullet vibe and turning it on, pressing it to your dick and slipping back inside. You both groan, as Sunwoo angles the vibe so he could feel its vibrations against his shaft too, and starts fucking into you with reckless abandon. “Shit, baby, so good–“

“Hah– thought you said you wouldn’t exert yourself– woah, slow down, I can’t keep the camera steady,” you huff, Sunwoo reluctantly obliging and taking the phone away to prop it up on the dresser and change it to the front facing camera towards the bed, pulling you back down with him and bending you over.

“Fuck that,” he growls, all his patience from before melted away with every rough snap of his hips, “I’m gonna fuck all that stress outta you, I’m gonna fuck you into this mattress even if it fucking kills me tomorrow.”

You are reduces to cries instead of words as he does exactly that – frankly you have no idea where all this energy comes from after a long day of dancing, but you figure he won’t have his usual stamina this time – craning your head over your should to peek at his phone on the dresser, where Jisung watches with his lip pulled between his teeth and an obvious shaking from below the screen.

“Let us see,” you gasp out, eyes rolling back into your head as Sunwoo angles his hips just right and makes you see stars, but you force yourself to focus on the screen just enough to see him lift his phone higher and reveal him stroking his cock again, still covered in cum, cutely small in his hand.

“Y-You guys are so fucking hot it’s unfair,” he sighs, body twitching hard enough to shake the camera with every other movement. “Can’t believe you fuck raw too. Do you cum inside? Can I see it? Please, wanna see him dripping, fuck, wish that was me.”

“Yeah? Wish this was you, huh?” Sunwoo pulls you up on your knees with a firm yank on your hair, pulling a moan from you, and you don’t have much of a choice but to let him use you as he wants as he fills you up so fucking good. “Want me to cum in your ass and knock you up, huh? Want me to breed your cute little hole? Ooh, he clenched around me at that, I didn’t know you liked that one, prince.”

You whine a little in embarrassment, but mostly hold it together. “Y-Yeah well, it’s a new one,” you mutter, grasping for anything to ground you as Sunwoo keeps you propped up, but as soon as he lets you back down to lean on the mattress again, the vibe is back between your legs and you whimper.

“Cuuute, see, you’re not the only one who has embarrassing kinks, Jisung, looks like both of you wanna be all knocked up, hm? Want me to put a baby in you, baby?”

“No,” you rasp, ignoring the way his words send a wave of heat down south anyway. “Wanna put a baby in him.” You point towards the camera, and Jisung whines so erotically you think he would do just as well on cam as Hyunjin or San would.

“That’s so fucking hot fuck– please, please, please, breed me, knock me up, both of you, fuck…” He’s fucking the a dildo in his ass now, so frantically it keeps slipping out, “Need you both inside me, fuck, get me pregnant…”

The two of you chuckle at how far gone he is, willing to say all these embarrassing things so openly to the same people he spent so long arguing with the other week, that bitter resentment warped into something else entirely and were you not getting your brains fucked out you would want to ask Sunwoo how the fuck he did it, but he seems intent on not giving you the chance to form a proper sentence.

“Fuck– yes– shit I think I’m gonna–“ your breathing quickens, your core tightens, and one strangled groan from Sunwoo behind you and another few perfectly angled snaps of his hips sends you falling over the edge, the high pulsing through you like electricity.

“That’s it baby, thaaat’s it, fuck you’re so pretty when you cum for me,” Sunwoo mutters, bending over you and tilting your head to steal a kiss as he follows you over, moaning against your lips as he paints your walls white.

Jisung is still panting and fucking himself with his toy while the two of you catch your breath, and the sheer agony on his face is so fucking delightful you find yourself wanting to be so much meaner to him if given the chance.

“No, no, please,” he begs, “don’t stop yet, ahh, I’m close, please.”

He sure seems to love the show, so it’s a good thing you and Sunwoo both love to perform.

“Babe, move with me, lemme get the camera–“

You and Sunwoo both awkwardly shuffle to the edge of the bed where Sunwoo can reach his phone again, taking it off the dresser and flipping the camera back to the front so he can give your little voyeur on the phone a close-up view of where your bodies meet.

“Oh, fuck–“

“Don’t look away for even a second, baby. You don’t wanna miss a second of this.”

Sunwoo slowly pulls himself out, shiny and wet and covered in you, and when you clench down around nothing, he has a perfect shot of his cum dripping from your hole. The sounds Jisung is making on the other end of the line are beyond gone, fucked out and on the brink, and when Sunwoo collects his dripping cum on his fingers and pushes them back inside you, you hear his voice crack.

“Fuck–! Cum- Cumming- fuck…!”

“That’s a good girl.” He puts the phone back in front of you so you both can enjoy the sight of Jisung spilling another load all over his chest, not even touching his cock as he simply milks his prostate with the toy inside him. Sunwoo is even mean enough to take screenshots, and you grin at him, “Send those to me.”

It takes him a long moment to recover from the intensity of his orgasm, chest heaving, covered in sweat and his own mess, but the most dazed smile takes over his features as he covers half his face in disbelief.

“Fuck,” he exhales, picking the camera back up to hover above his face, “You guys are the hottest fucking… most insufferably horrible people I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow at him playfully, “Sounds like you like it, though.”

“Yeah, well,” he rolls his eyes, “Unfortunately for me that’s kinda my type. Dick hard one moment, wanting to punch you through a wall the next.”

“Don’t worry, I think Changbin already did the latter part for you!” Sunwoo chips in helpfully, so you elbow him in the shoulder. “See you on the battlefield next time, cutie.”

Jisung snorts, and you see him slipping out of his dick-drunk trance. “Is it really a battle or is it a slaughter?” He catches his tongue between cheekily at that, and you feel heat flare up of a familiarly ambiguous kind.

“We’ll make it a slaughter by the time we’re done with you,” you vow, and Sunwoo has to put a hand on your shoulder to remind you to save it and not get too heated. “You aren’t ready for what we have in store for the next round.”

“More provoking lyrics and slutty outfits? I think I can take it. Yes, innuendo intended, I could and would take you both – now I gotta get cleaned up, so. See ya later.”

It takes a second for you to recover from the whiplash of him bouncing between cocky and confident, and needy and pathetic, back and forth between only a few sentences, but you are quickly starting to understand what Seungmin meant about him. You exchange glances with Sunwoo and shrug.

“Still stressed out?”

“His switch-up at the end wasn’t that good for my stress levels, but I think I’m mostly alright,” you laugh, and Sunwoo laughs with you, then raises a suggestive brow.

“Sit on my face about it?”

“God, you’re the best. I’m gonna suck your soul out your dick about it.”

Eric looks up and all he can see is Felix looking down at him.

He wants to punch a fucking hole in the wall, shatter glass, snap something in half. He does not delude himself into thinking he is not an angry kind of person; he is, and he knows it. Still, lately he finds his nerves have been grated even more than usual, and he’d be a fool to not know why – it’s Felix. Of course it’s Felix. He just didn’t think it’d get him like this.

They broke up on good terms. That’s what he keeps drilling into his own head, over and over like he would forget otherwise. It was a mutual agreement; they weren’t working out. Eric wanted to see Felix a lot more than Felix could see him, and Felix didn’t want Eric to feel like he was constantly being put on the backburner, so they broke up. Figured that it just was the right person, wrong time.

Right person, wrong time.

He keeps telling himself that, over and over, as he goes through the choreography again, and again, and again, long after the rest of the band got sick of his shit and left him in the makeshift studio. He wants to punch the mirror hard enough to shatter it.

Right person, wrong time.

He regrets how much he held onto the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he could wait for him. Maybe there could be a right time, if he was patient. Like a fucking fool, he hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time he held him, kissed him, or touched him again. And it wasn’t – so why does it feel like it only made it worse? Felix was exactly like he remembered, only with more tattoos and piercings, dark hair, a sharper jawline, broader shoulders, and a bit more attitude. But he was still Felix, he was still his Felix, still the Felix who crumbles for someone with lots of confidence, who can’t lie, still the Felix who pokes his tongue in his cheek when he’s riled up, his Felix who’s breath hitches when someone leans in close, who gulps when he’s nervous, who’s voice jumps up in pitch when he gets filled up-

“Missed me that much?”

He keeps playing that night over and over. The song plays again, he twists and turns and jumps and hits, but all he can see is Felix and you all over him. He missed him. He missed him so fucking badly, when he really did think he had moved on. He has you now, he has the band, and that was more than enough for him – he even stopped dating because whatever it is you guys have going on was always just so much better. Hell, even if Felix came crawling back to him on his hands and knees to apologise and asked to get back together again, Eric doesn’t even think he would say yes. Not if it meant giving up what you guys have.

He still fucking misses him.

The choreography is intense. He pops, locks, perfects his body line, practices his flip, lands on one knee just a bit too wobbly for comfort; but while the music still plays, the energetic and intense trap beat Kevin made just for him, he doesn’t get back up. He falls forward, hands on the polished wooden floors, and cringes as it comes back wet – it’s only then when he realises he’s crying. He’s crying onto the floor of his dance studio while his kick-ass battle song plays and he just feels so fucking pathetic, because why is he even crying over this? Why is he crying over someone who was never truly his? Why is he even crying over someone who didn’t even really wrong him?

Not until now, at least. Not in their relationship. Unless the reason he was so busy back then was because he was making another dance crew with his other friends and he decided he would rather give up Force and Eric along with it, like Eric suspects, when if he wanted to sing and rap that badly he knows Eric would have let him join the runaways. He’d even fit with their namesake too, having ditched his family home in the middle of the night as soon as he turned eighteen; he knew Eric would have loved to have him here.

But of course, he was too busy. Not too busy for Stray Kids, just too busy for Force, and too busy for him. As they always were. As everyone always fucking is. History has a habit of repeating itself until you learn your lesson but he just does not understand the lesson needing to be learnt – what does he need to do to make them stay? What does he need to do to be someone’s first priority, to not be constantly brushed aside? What does he need to do to be worthy of the kind of intense devotion he gives everyone he cares about? Eric supposes that was always his weakness; loving more than he was ever loved back. Everyone would love him, but not nearly as much as he loved them, when push came to shove. Everyone except you and the band.

What he just doesn’t get, is why you guys just can’t get that. You seemed to understand enough that coming to participate in a band contest as a glorified dance crew – a dance crew, like the one he left – with his cool new friends when he knew how important the competition was to you guys, was a cold fucking move at worst and a nonsensical one at best. They insulted you, punched you in the fucking face, insulted your work, and you just go and suck their dicks about it? Go and suck Felix’s dick about it? You know what he means to him. You know he isn’t over him. But it seems like just about fucking everybody is willing to bend over backwards for the golden boy and his pretty freckles and award-winning smile that Eric fell for so long ago.

“Fuck. Fucking fuck!”

Eric knows exactly why you like him so much. He knows because he still fucking likes him. He knows because when he smirks at you like that, and he still wants to kiss him too. He still remembers how soft his lips are, and that they taste like caramel because he’s always drinking those sickeningly sweet excuses for coffees that might as well be milkshakes. But he just can’t do it. He can’t just kiss him like they’re still in love when he is coming and taking over everything that was ever fucking important to him. Everything he still cares about. Dance, music, you, his friends. But it doesn’t include him anymore, it never was fucking about him. Not anymore, it’s never about him anymore. Even now, at his family’s holiday house, leading his supposed dance boot camp, the rest of you are in the lodge playing board games without him because you said you needed a break and he’s been pushing you too hard.

If he can keep going, why can’t you? Why is he the only one taking this seriously? What happened to trusting him? You said you let him lead this week so he can see that you trust and value his input, but you guys just aren’t listening.

More than anything, he just wants to go home. He’s tired, mentally and physically, and he just wants things to go back to the way things were before the battle. Home, not the apartment, but in a cuddle puddle with the six of you when none of you are mad at each other, staring at the ceiling while the starry sky projector you bought lights up the room with colour.

But he knows better than to think you will agree to back out now. Hell, as much as he wants to, he wouldn’t let you, either; the controversy has put both you and your rival band in the spotlight like never before, and if you all want to achieve your dreams of being able to do music as a career and tour the world, you need this. He needs this. He’ll be damned if his shady ex-boyfriend gets in the way of that.

No more distractions, he decides, getting up and wiping away his tears. One more time, from the top.

“Eric?”

When he looks toward the doorway and sees the solemn expression Kevin gives him, holding a plate of freshly cooked food in hand, he feels whatever wall he just built up come crumbling down instantly. “Kevin…”

Kevin must be able to tell that he was just crying, because he sets down tonight’s meal on the pool table pushed aside to make room, and sweeps Eric into a crushing hug, which, for Kevin, isn’t the most common of gestures. Eric hugs him back and buries his face in his neck, not wanting to look at him. Not wanting to say anything. Not even wanting to hear anything. Kevin speaks anyway.

“We’re all really worried about you, y’know?”

“Not really,” Eric sniffles, and he hates how pathetic it sounds. “No one’s listening to me.”

Kevin tuts and pulls back slightly to frown at him, but Eric doesn’t look up. He can’t bear to meet his eyes. “Eric, we’re not listening because you’re being unreasonable. The week’s deadline doesn’t suddenly give our bodies any more endurance than they already have. We’re not all built like you!”

“I’m sick of fighting, Kev,” Eric sighs, and Kevin runs a hand through his hair soothingly.

“Then don’t fight. How about we go eat and head to bed early? It’s been a long day.”

Eric wants to argue again, despite just saying he is sick of arguing. He does not want to be coddled like an angry toddler throwing a tantrum, but that’s exactly how he feels; unheard, begrudgingly comforted just so he can calm down and go back to normal. He thinks he wants things to go back to normal more than the rest of you combined. Normal, back when it didn’t feel like all his bandmates were looking so far down at him like everyone else.

He bites his tongue and redirects it.

“How about I eat you instead? To de-stress, of course.”

Please let me have this, Eric pleads silently, hidden poorly behind a weak smirk. He grabs Kevin’s hips and starts tugging him towards the couch pushed up to the side of the room. Let me have you, let me feel you.

Kevin sees his request for what it is; a plea for intimacy, more than sex. A plea for trust, connection.

He sees it for what it is, and with a small sigh, grabs his face and connects their lips.

By the time you and Sunwoo finish cleaning up and re-gaining the feeling in your legs, a bonfire is crackling outside, while Wooyoung and Mingi are manning a fragrant barbecue. Eric being there is a welcome sight – just the fact that he is no longer cooping himself up inside the practice room or his room is already promising, but him being around the rest of the band willingly is even better. You turn to smile at Sunwoo and he’s already smiling back at you – he’s probably thinking the same thing.

“Well look who finally–“ You are cut off by Sunwoo stepping past you and shoving you roughly in the side to sit down next to Eric on a log and clap a hand on his shoulder.

“Glad to see you back, bro.”

Eric smiles.

You can’t even complain at the shove as it was completely called for; Sunwoo is right, what Eric needs now is probably not your usual attitude and instead more gentle appreciation, so you follow his lead and sit on his other side, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Sorry. Missed you.”

He doesn’t seem to need the clarification on what you meant, giving that you have been seeing each other most of every day the whole week, but he returns your peck with a quiet thanks and goes back to staring into the dancing flames.

You have half the mind to leave him alone, since he clearly does not feel like talking, but you figured that if he really wanted to be left alone, he would be in his room or the makeshift studio again, so his decision to be here around you all was deliberate. So you stay next to him, pressed shoulder to shoulder just to give him that grounding point of contact – you’re there. You’re with him, next to him. If he wants to speak, he can, but if he doesn’t, you’ll still be there anyway.

He leans his head on your shoulder, and you feel your heart soar. He’s leaning on you. Both figuratively and literally, he’s leaning on you, he’s allowing himself to be soft with you even if he might still be mad at you. You wrap an arm around his shoulders and press another kiss to the top of his head, to let him know you heard him, even if he didn’t say anything. You hear him.

Sunwoo gets up to grab his food when Wooyoung calls that dinner’s ready, but Eric doesn’t move, and you won’t either until he does, but you give his shoulder a little squeeze.

“You gonna eat anything?”

“Not hungry.”

“Eric…”

“I’ll eat later, I promise,” he insists, taking your free hand in his and playing with it gently, intertwining your fingers. “Just… not right now.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, not wanting to find any more reasons to disagree with him for now. “What do you want to do right now, then?”

He has to think about it, still playing with your hands as he does, and it’s cute how it seems to soothe him somewhat. “I want… to talk this out, or whatever. I’m tired of being angry. I just. Don’t really know how to start.”

You look over his shoulder to gesture to the others to come in, and you all find yourselves seated on the log by the bonfire or the dirt in front of it, not wanting to be any further from Eric than necessary. “Start wherever you feel like, baby. We’re listening.”

He sighs, then tries to gather the words to start, then sighs again even louder. He lets go of your hand to drop his head into his own.

“I don’t know. I’m just, I’m tired, I’m upset, I miss Felix, I don’t want to miss Felix, I’m angry at him for doing this to me, I’m angry that you’re taking such an interest in him, I’m scared of being replaced, and I feel so fucking inferior about everything I ever had any confidence in and I just want it all to stop.”

“Okay, that’s a good start,” you encourage him, stroking his back rhythmically while he let it all out. “I had a feeling it was something along those lines.”

“It’s alright to be scared and angry,” Mingi pipes up helpfully, leaning over to give Eric a reassuring head pat.

“Felix did do you pretty dirty,” Wooyoung adds, to which the others nod.

Eric sighs again, running his hands through his hair. “I’m scared,” he repeats. “I’m scared we’ll lose. And I don’t know how I’ll handle that if we do. Because that’d be… feels almost fucking symbolic, in a way, of him just. Ruining everything I worked towards. That’s why I keep drilling you guys and being even more of a perfectionist than usual and – god, they’re fucking perfect. They’re incredible performers. I still don’t think their act should be allowed as a band but they’re so fucking good at what they do I can’t help but think we can’t really compete.”

“But we can!” San chimes in, shifting closer to make sure Eric is looking at him. “Prior to this week I didn’t even know how to dance beyond a few TikTok challenges, now I’m doing choreography you made for a dance crew! Half of you guys are practically professionals, and this might be one of the best songs Kevin’s produced yet, and the lyrics–“

“Have some more faith in us,” you interrupt, a little too enthusiastic, “we’re fucking good at what we do, too. We won last year for a reason, remember? This stage is absolutely gonna blow their socks off.”

“It’s not you guys I’m really worried about,” Eric admits quietly, still refusing to look any of you in the eye. He doesn’t need to. You already see his real feelings written all over him.

“You’re worried you might fuck up the whole thing.”

His silence is the only confirmation you need.

“Oh, Eric.” You pull him in for a tighter hug, which everyone else joins in until you are all awkwardly hunched over on the log and almost fall over, making you all giggle. “You’re not going to fuck up anything, okay? You’re going to be the star of the show.”

“I don’t know… I don’t think my choreography can match theirs. I’m mostly trained in hip-hop, but Hyunjin adds a contemporary twist to theirs, and Lino has such insane body control and–“

“And you have a swagger onstage that they could only dream of,” Kevin finishes, leaning over to put a finger to Eric’s lips, and he finally looks up from the ground to meet him. “Do you really think band judges are going to be looking for mixtures of dance genres and technical precision? They’re here for the music and they’re here for the spectacle. I’m pretty sure the reason why Stray Kids are getting as far as they are, is more to do with their production quality, live vocals, and stage presence. Are you really gonna doubt us on those fronts? This isn’t a dance tournament.”

Eric doesn’t have a response for that, playing with his own hands as he processes it all, so you take one into your own so he could go back to fidgeting with yours if he so desired.

“You’re right, I can’t doubt your guys’ songs and vocals like that. That wouldn’t be fair. Suppose it also wasn’t fair how hard I pushed your bodies, too.”

“Or your own,” Wooyoung reminds him, getting up to grab a now-cool plate of food to bring back to him and plop it in his lap. “You don’t need to be so hard on yourself, either. Whether or not we win the next round, which I have in good confidence that we will, we are still incredible fucking performers. Stray cats can’t take that from us. It’s not like we can really lose – everyone else in the competition has been an absolute non-event, dude. No one’s talking about them. We’re basically guaranteed second place at the very least, and that’s still a win.”

Eric pokes at the meat on his plate with his fork, trying to muster up the appetite. “I don’t want to be second place to anyone. Not anymore.”

You realise what he really means by that, and he doesn’t mean the competition at all. It was never about the battle, it was about the war – the ongoing war raging in his head of his own self-worth and the way his past threatens it. How he can never be certain that he won’t have to fight for his right to exist, his right to be loved – and you get it. You really do. So deeply, even, that you have bonded over it in the past, and that is exactly how you know that he will stick by you till the bitter end, and you just wish he could feel the same. You sigh and massage the back of his neck.

“Eric, sweetheart, you could never be replaced. Not by Felix, not by the homeless children, not by anyone. We wouldn’t be here right now if you could!”

He seems to only shrink in size as he curls up and munches on his food. “Why are you so obsessed with Felix, then?”

He turns to you.

“Obsessed? With Felix?” It strikes you as a little odd. “What do you mean obsessed with him? He hurt you, Eric. I can’t forgive him for that. You know how ride or die I am for the people I care about and the six of you are at the absolute top of that list. I’m fucking around with him because I want him to feel as small and pathetic as he’s made you feel, and I want it to fucking haunt him how he can’t help but think of it when it’s just him and his right hand. I want to drive him insane until he realises he fumbled the best thing to ever happen to him.”

“And Chan? You seem awfully interested in him too. And how interested he is in Felix.”

You are not sure whether to feel hurt or understanding at Eric’s accusations. You know he’s insecure and you know he needs your reassurance, but you don’t like the way he’s painting you in this whole situation. “Chan has a weak spot for Felix and it’s so easy to prey on. Why wouldn’t I? He’s the core of their group. He calls the shots and it seems like to some degree, everyone relies on him. You destabilise him, you destabilise all of them. Besides, we just have beef from leader to leader, creative to creative. I know we got invested in this whole rivalry for your sake at first, Eric, but it’s gotten pretty personal now. That doesn’t mean we’re moving past you now. It means we’re all taking them on together.”

“You make the battle of the bands sound like some huge psyop mission,” Kevin snorts, finishing off his plate. “We should just not worry about them and focus on making our performance the best we can be. I’m sure Chan and Felix and all of them will leave us alone if we just leave them be.”

“No way!”

You, Eric, Wooyoung, and Sunwoo, all pipe up at the same time, looking at Kevin incredulously.

“I don’t want to leave them alone, I want them to wish they could be us so bad,” Wooyoung huffs, crossing his arms. “C’mon, even you enjoyed putting Jupiter in their places last year. It’s fun to stick it to some bitches who deserve it!”

Kevin goes quiet, then waves his arm dismissively. “Yeah alright, whatever. Have your fun with it then, I guess.”

“Maybe I need to be having more fun with it,” Eric chuckles, poking at his dinner some more. “I mean, tag teaming him at the Prism was pretty fun. I guess I just got… really into my own head about it.”

“Attaboy,” you cheer, giving him an encouraging slap on the back, “that’s the spirit! Obviously you don’t have to fuck around with them if you don’t want to. But y’know. You can always annoy them more.”

“I think I’d rather fuck you in front of them and have them watch,” Eric throws out casually, making your eyebrows shoot up and your still aching core throb. “That’d be pretty hot. Wonder if they’d agree to it, though.”

You shrug. “I dunno Eric, we can be pretty damn convincing, I think. Maybe we should invite them to our dressing room next round. Or something. We’ll work it out. But before we get to any more plotting and scheming… how do you feel? Are you like… okay? Or at least better?”

“Better,” he nods, and you feel reassured in that he didn’t have to stop to think about it. “I don’t know. I know I was projecting my own insecurities onto you guys. And I know I was pushing you guys too far. I just needed to feel… like I held any weight here. Like I was still important to you guys.”

“Of course you’re still important to us,” Mingi breathes out, visibly saddened at the thought that Eric even had to doubt it. “I’m sorry you couldn’t feel it enough.”

“I do now, at least.” He cracks a small smile, and exchanges a knowing look with Kevin that makes you think Sunwoo was onto something when he said he’d let the keyboardist handle him. “I know that was the point of this entire trip. And I’m sorry all I used it for was to try and find ways to prove that you guys didn’t care as much as I did. I’ll stop projecting. At least, I’ll try.”

“That’s all we can ask for, Eric,” San reminds him, getting up to give him another hug. Sunwoo has to stabilise his plate so it doesn’t get shoved off his lap. “You can tell us if you’re feeling bad or insecure about things, y’know? Just please don’t get angry with us. You know we can talk things out calmly and you’re scary when you yell.”

Eric laughs at the audible pout in San’s voice without needing to see it over his shoulder. He pats him on the back affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try not to. I’m sorry again. We can take tomorrow off, I think. Enjoy the holiday house while we’re here, spend the day by the lake, maybe. It’ll be fun.”

“Sounds like exactly what we all need!” Kevin agrees, clapping his hands together. “I unironically think that our practice will be even better if we don’t practice for a day. Let our bodies catch up with it all.”

“For sure,” Wooyoung agrees, “it’s always like that. In the meantime, I think we should all take turns schlobbing your knob for being such a great dance teacher.”

That makes everyone burst out laughing, but Wooyoung simply doubles down. “What? I mean it! I’ll give you the sloppiest toppy bro, the Gluck Gluck Triple Twist–“

“I get it, I get it,” Eric howls, trying to recover from the sudden humorous outburst. “God, that gave me whiplash. Yeah, sure, if you’re offering, I won’t say no.”

“It’s whatever you want, Eric,” you tell him, leaning on his shoulder this time, “after all, this is still meant to be your trip.”

The smallest but most genuine of smiles pulls at the corners of his lips, and he presses them to your crown appreciatively. “Thanks. All of you. You guys… mean a lot to me.”

Sunwoo notices the tears glistening on his cheeks before you do, and instantly leans in to kiss them off, and before you know it, everyone is swarming him to try and express their own forms of affection to a point that’s downright comical in it’s impracticality, knocking him off the log in your onslaught of touch and kisses.

“Ahaha, alright, alright! I get it, you guys too– ahahaha, fuckin hell, you guys are too much.”

Once again you hear what he really says, and it’s loud and clear;

I love you all so much.

a/n: i feel like the apologies for the wait get more and more ironic the longer i go between updates, but i really am sorry! 2023 was a year of all time for me and i was just speedrunning life events but it's okay i think im normal now. ish. im writing again at least! i slaved over this chapter for MONTHS because i kept changing it and hating parts of it no matter what i did so i just sat down and finished it and decided i would not proofread or reread at all and just go with whatever i come up with so i can finally get this chapter DONE or else it might have just sat in my wips rotting for another year. so apologies if you notice the dip in quality, but hopefully you wont LMFAOOoo

anyway the questionnaire is still open and even more relevant than ever so any responses are so so so appreciated and help me write future chapters! feel free to fill it out more than once if you have already a while back. LMFAO. anyway. enjoy! happy new year! jskdgfkskdh

#what goes on in neverland #poly stray kids x reader #poly the boyz x reader #poly ateez x reader #stray kids smut #the boyz smut #stray kids x male reader #male reader #transmasc reader #nonbinary reader #kim sunwoo x reader #han jisung x reader #the boyz x male reader #stray kids series #the boyz series #ateez series #diverseinsertsknet #yeah im so fuckin sick of tagging honestly pls just rb i beg

[sammy-deserves-better]

Completely random headcanons made by me (a silly)

MK got banned from Club Penguin because she kept scamming people by promising to buy them memberships with their parents credit card info

Wayne and Raj broke a TV once by flinging Wii remotes into it during an intense game of Wii Sports Bowling

Julia did not go outside for 2 weeks after learning about Zayn leaving One Direction

Axel is completely oblivious to flirting at times, she also has accidental rizz (she explains how different tools work and girls think it’s hot)

Zee is super flexible and it freaks people out a lot

Chase once got to meet Jake Paul and he always mentions it in a conversation, always

Damien really got hooked onto Bill Nye the Science Guy during one ‘science’ class where the teacher just put on Bill Nye episodes

Ripper once tried to grow his hair into a mullet because he thought it was cool, immediately regretted it then shaved his entire head off because it was ‘cooler’

Priya only ever watched reality TV competition shows as a kid, never got to watch kids TV or anything like that UNLESS it was a competition show, but now she’s going back to watch a ton of classic childhood shows (and gets absolutely hooked on Power Rangers)

Millie can write super fast, but her handwriting is also kinda sloppy and a bit messy, she had to get one of those handwriting booklets as a kid and she never emotionally recovered

Caleb has watched every single episode of America’s Next Top Model because someone dared him to, he got attached to the show FAST

Nichelle is an amazing dancer, what she lacks in action skills (and skills in general), she makes up for with knowledge in so many different dance styles

Emma likes to go to a ton of different sports clubs, archery, basketball, trampolining, she thinks it’s a great way to get her worries out the way and enjoy herself

Scary Girl is an expert in dying people’s hair and is amazing at make-up, unfortunately nobody ever really wants her to do their hair and make up because well, they’re terrified of her (she loves that they’re scared)

Bowie has a secret soft spot for baking, if he has a bad day he’ll usually try and make himself something nice, and he loves to bake with Raj, even though when Raj tries to help the kitchen ends up a mess

#total drama #total drama reboot #total drama island 2023 #td mk #td axel #td julia #td bowie #td nichelle #td ripper #td priya #td raj #td chase #td emma #td scary girl #td wayne #td damien #td zee #td caleb #td millie #td spoilers #maybe #total drama 2023 #they’re my skrunklies

[jadespeedster17]

Seven Minuets

Summary: Grian wasn’t having a fun time, his current boyfriend, Richard, was starting to annoy him. He was happy Scar was here and all, if just for support through this ‘guys night’. Playing stupid games and Richard not knowing how to keep his hands to himself.

Notes: Saw a prompt from one of @bluiex anon’s, Stalker!Killer!Scar and Grian. Decided why not. More Killer... not much Stalker, it’s hinted.

Warning: Smut(ish) (heavy make out really), Stalker Behavior, Blood, Murder, Death, Romanization of very dark things, dirty talk, and cults. (Scar’s in a murder cult so yeah)

Disclaimer: Author does not in IRL think these things are even remotely okay behavior, this is a fic, it is fiction. Take the warnings to heart, and don’t be an ass.

-

It was loud, it smelled of beer, and it just wasn’t as fun as Grian had hoped. He was now seriously regretting turning down Jimmy and Tango’s offer to hang with them, Ren, Bdubs, and Cub. Even though Scar came along, that didn’t do much to stop the rise of irritation in Grian’s temper. He was just trying to enjoy the movie, with the sound of his current boyfriend doing a shots competition. 

He sighed a bit, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. Scar gave him an apologetic smile, “We can still ditch and head over to Jimmy’s, sure he’ll let us crash for the night.” he suggested, even if he tried to hide the disgust in his eyes at the group of guys.

Grian was seriously tempted, though he was too much of a kind person to just leave. Seemed rude... Rude like Richard stumbling over to him, the thick scent of cheap booze on him, making Grian’s nose wrinkle. Hands on his chest as the tipsy man kissed his neck, hands moving down.

“No Rich.” Grian said shoving his hands away, he wasn’t about to have sex in front of the others.

Richard huffed in annoyance, “Come on darling,” he grumbled, “The others wouldn’t mind at all, if you’re so upset about them watching we can head upstairs.” he told him.

Grian wrinkled up his nose, “no Richard,” more firmly than the last one, “I don’t want to, end of story.”

The other didn’t seem pleased with that, but puffed out breath letting go and getting off Grian all together. Heading back to the table, “Whatever man, come on, at least play some games.” he grumbled. Grian made a face but sighed walking over, he didn’t notice the dark glare Scar was getting Richard the whole time. 

“Seven minuets in Heaven is the name of the game.” one of the others snicker, Grian didn’t bother remembering the name. “Might help loosen up some people.” he joked, and Grian held back a glare.

“Rules are simple,” a bottle was placed on the table, “Spin the bottle, and who it lands on on your turn you go into the closet with for 7 minuets.”

Yeah, Grian knew the rules, he placed the game once before in highschool. that was how he met his friends, he and Tango ended up in the closet. Tango then confessed to him his feelings for Jimmy, and wanted Grian to play wing man. To which Grian also dragged Scar into the mess, but hey it worked, they were still happily together. Might have ended with Jimmy getting a bloody nose due to a plan gone wrong, but it still worked. 

He really is now wishing he went over to their house again. Why did he stay with Richard? Part of him guessed it was desperation. Though this was only the 4th date, the guy had been showing red flag after red flag. After tonight it was over, Grian honestly was done play this game. The man rarely respected his boundries.

He remembered venting to Scar about how Richard had tried to get his hands down his pants during the previews of the movies their last date. Richard had apologized, and promised to wait... well we see how that’s turning out. Asshole really just wanted to fuck like rabbits. 

Grian was all for sexual intimacy and a good fuck, but he also liked the romantic aspect of things. Was he weird for just liking a good make out session? Just cuddling in the night with no need for a build up? Honestly... he wished he could find guys like Scar. 

Problem was Grian was certain Scar was straight, and he didn’t want to impose on their friendship or make things awkward. Honestly he was afraid if they did date, and eventually break up, it’d be too odd to keep a friendship. He didn’t want to lose Scar as a friend, the other was also so caring, comforting, and had helped Grian through alot of issues in his life.

He snapped back into reality when Scar offered to go first. The ever present friendly smile on his face, spinning the bottle easily. Grian felt the others eyeing Scar up with drunken lust. Honestly made his skin crawl, even if Scar didn’t seem to notice or care. 

The bottle landed on Richard as some were laughing, “What are the odds the friend would end up in the closet with the boyfriend.” one heckled, Grian shrugged at Scar, he trusted the guy not to do anything. 

Scar wasn’t the type to cheat, given how he saw it hurt Grian last time.

Scar shrugged back, “Be back G.” he said cheerfully as he walked with Richard to the closet. The fact Richard didn’t protest said alot... You know what fuck it, he excused himself to the bathroom once the closet door closed. Ignoring the jeers form the 3 other men. 

He made sure to lock the door... unease in his stomach.

Picking up his cellphone he dialed Jimmy’s number and sat down on the cold floor waiting. The phone rang a few times, before it picked up, “Hey Grian!” a cheerful voice said as he could hear voices in the back of laughing and chatting. “Be right back guys, Ren don’t steal my cards.” he said and Grian had no doubt Jimmy with giving the ‘I’m watching you’ look to Ren.

“What’s up man, hows your night?” Jimmy asked him, voice as happy as ever, honestly the familiar tone made Grian relax a bit.

“Not to well.” Grian grumbled with a heavy sigh, “Jimmy, mind if me and Scar come on over? I don’t want to stay here any longer.” he asked in a smaller tone. His brown eyes staring at the ground.

A pause, “Sure G, need me to pick you up?” Jimmy asked, tone slightly worried and more serious, “Ren will no doubt come also if you feel you need him?” he suggested.

A faint smile tugged at Grian’s lips, Ren was a body builder, Richard was scared shitless of him even if he talked a big game. “Nah man, it’s just... Richard is an ass and I really don’t want to stay with him. I also don’t wanna go home tonight, just want some friends.” he admits, his voice did breka at the end. The night had been rough, and Grian was holding back tears of frustration.

“Yeah sure, tell you what, I’ll pay pal you some money, get all of us some comfort food. We’ll play cards against humanity and watch some Scooby doo tonight. You and Scar are more than welcome to stay a feww nights.” Jimmy suggested as Grian gavea  weak laugh and smile.

Sniffling a bit he made a sound of agreement, “I’ll get some pizza for the oven and ice cream then.” he suggested. “And yes I’ll get Bdubs favorite, need to keep the gremlin pleased.” he joked lightly feeling a big better when Jimmy laughed also.

“Sounds like a great time, see you in 2 hours then G, I’ll let the others know.” Jimmy promised, “We’ll be here, promise.” warmth filled he at the words as he muttered a thanks and bye. Hanging up Grian laid his head back on the wall, he felt a bit better.

Honestly he was happy to have friends like these guys, sure each one of them was in their own form of weird relationship, but none of them pressured Grian to do anything. Scar approved of each of them, though had jokingly said if any of them hurt Grian he’d hurt them. As if any of them would, Grian took some breaths to calm down, he didn’t want to walk outside looking like he’d been crying.

Meanwhile, as Grian had went to the bathroom to call Jimmy, Scar looked at Richard who was grinning down at him.

“You know your small friend is quiet the tightest cunt I’ve ever met.” Richard grumbled, “Wonder if you are?” he purred in a slurred tone. “I’ll admit you’ve got quiet the abs on you.”

Scar snorted some laughter, “I try to at least work out, makes the job easier.” he said leaning closer to Richard who was grinning at that.

“Job?” Richard echoed a bit, hand coming up to ran over Scar’s exposed chest. “Could give a shit less what you do man, I need a fix, and frankly Grian isn’t being happy about helping me out.” he scowled a bit, Then turned back to eyeing up Scar and licking his lower lip. 

A deep hum as Richard started to kiss on Scar’s neck a bit, pressing up to him, “I think you’d be interested in it.” his hand moving up Richard’s back, “I’ve never told Grian about it... though that might change soon with you here.”

Richard groaned out a bit as Scar was rubbing up his side then to his back and hair. He was also started to go lower, playing with the belt a bit and-

Sharp pain rushed through Richard’s backside, as Scar was grinning at him. Warmth ran down his back as something was yanked out. Richard stumbled back a bit as he looked at the other. Pale mask with a sinister smile looked back. In Scar’s hand was a knife, red with blood now that dripped onto the floor. “It’s not much of a job, but it works.” Scar growled, Richard tried to struggle, in his drunken haze. Though aware, his body wasn’t really wanting to work. Adrenalin trying to kick in as Scar started to stab him, covering his mouth to keep him from crying out for help.

Grian came into the room as he heard loud bangs from the closet, the other 3 had also started to notice. “Scar?’ Grian said as he went over and the door opened. He stared at Scar stepped out of the closet.

“Well he’s dead.” Scar said calmly, as Grian stared, the other was covered in blood, holding loosely in his hands a bloody knife. He was also wearing a strange mask, it was blue with white streaks and a even fanged smile.

One of the others said, “Scar that’s not funny man.” he said getting up a bit stumbly on his feet.

Scar smirked slightly, “I think it’s quiet funny.” he commented with a grin at them, “Not like anyone will miss him.”

Grian walked past Scar and over to the closet, and stared in shock at the blood running out of Richard, his eyes widen with horror, blood on his mouth and all over his chest and back. Bleeding out onto the floors, he bent down slowly and placed a hand on him shoving the guy and checking him. “He’s... he’s dead... like really dead!” he said in a higher pitched voice.

As soon as he said this, Scar moved, grabbing Kyle, the more skinny guy and slicing open his throat. “HOLY SHIT!” Mike yelled out as Kyle fell over gagging and sputtering on blood as he convulsed on the floor in pain. Possibly unable to breath as the blood filled his mouth and lungs.

Nick tried to rush at Scar, only to be over powered easily, Grian has seen Scar working out. He could easily take on Nick, who clearly was a twig from possibly doing drugs. Scar laughed  as stabbed Nick in the chest, the other struggling. Mike came to his senses and went to help, Scar looked at him and grinned as he shoved Nick into Mike. Making them both stumble.

He went over and stabbed Nick in the back a few times as the other’s weight held down Mike. He was trying to get up, calling out for help, calling out Grian’s name. Too call the cops, to do something. 

Grian felt numb though as he watched Scar toss aside Nick, and get on top of Mike, who was trying to hold back the knife from his neck. A small giggle escaping Scar’s mouth as he pushed down hard.

He watched in horror and shock as the knife buried itself into Mike’s windpipe, and he listened to the gurgling cry of pain from the guy. Scar stabbed him a few more times, once through the eye for good measure, then took a deep breath once Mike’s body went still and his gasping stopped. 

Scar stood up and looked over at Grian, then crazed look softening, “Oh.. G... you weren’t suppose to find out this early.” he whispered softly, walking over to Grian pressed up to the wall, a few feet away from Richard’s body. He was trembling as Scar closed in on him.

“Shhh,” Scar whispered, bending down to him as he petted over Grian’s cheek with bloody fingers. Lifting the blue mask with the smile away from his face. “Just breath for me my Desert Flower.” he cooed, as Grian stared at him. His heart was racing, Scar was covered in his... currently dead X’s blood and his friends.

Grian licked his lower lip, he really couldn’t be finding this hot!? He just watched Scar murder people, easily holding them down without any effort, and slicing them open, he was covered in blood! Scar shushed him again, “You know G, I’ve always liked you... I just couldn’t stand seeing that nasty piece of work there push you past your comfort zone.” he near snarled, “He tried to fuck me in that closet when I stabbed him you know, he had no respect for you whatso ever... Gosh the others were all betting on when I’d kill them for you.”

Blinking a few times Grian swallowed, “Others?” he asked Scar in a croaking tone.

A smile, soft, sweet, gentle, “Jimmy was more than tempted to come here to help me hold Richard down.” he spat Richard's name. “He didn’t like how he made you feel, and after you helped him win over Tango he feels responsible for helping you back.”

That sent Grian’s mind reeling, “What... Jimmy... is...?’ he wasn’t sure how to form a sentence right now, trying to process what Scar was saying. 

“Some call us a cult, but we aren’t... we find someone was love more than anything, we’d kill for them. Vexes is what they call us, know you’ve heard of us deary.” Scar whispered to him, hands petting Grian’s hair, leaving blood running through it. “Never thought I’d find my ‘Soulmate’ but they promised me I would... my little flower.”

The Vexes... Grian knew of them, they were a cult of murderers, the news say they stalked someone for a while that they believe is their ‘mate’ their true mate that these beings called Vexes tell them. Wearing a mask with fanged smiles on them, only one of them had been captured, that was how this cult had been found out. And she killed herself in prison. Now killings popped up now and then...

And Scar was one of them.

Much less finding out Jimmy was also one, did Tango know? Were theri others? Were some his friends? Grian swallowed again, as he stared into Scar’s eyes, they were a deep blueish red now, swirling with bloodlust, he was talking even though Grian could barely make it out over the ringing of his ears.

“I’ll call Jimmy to get him to come help, you don’t have to worry about setting the scene deary, I know how-” he cut off as Grian’s fingers reached out, and brushed over the blood that made it under the mask. Scar stared now, his voice drawing quiet as he watched Grian stare at him. Feeling the warmth of the blood under his fingers, Scar’s faint breathing, and calloused fingers on his own cheek.

Then as quick as ever Grian rushed forward pressing his lips to Scar’s own. The knife did clatter to the floor as Grian was on top of Scar, gripping the other’s hair as he pulled back only for seconds to breath between each kiss. Scar then pulled off and started to bite at Grian’s neck. 

“o-Ow.” Grian said lightly as teeth made contact, pressing against Scar.

Scar pulled back, “You okay?” he asked as Grian nodded to him, pushing him down to keep going. Somehow Grian had ended up on the floor with Scar on top of him, biting at his neck and leaving hickeys as he did so. Grian letting out small gasps of pain and Scar making sure he’s okay between the ones that hurt. 

After a while of this Grian was panting a bit, looking at Scar, fuck he wanted to continue but, “I think we need to wait to keep going once this is taken care of.” he breathed out, some blood in his hair as Richard’s blood hand been pooling to them and was now sticking to his hair and red sweater. 

He was also covered in blood from Scar’s hands on his body and face. Scar looked down at him and grinned widely, “as much as I’d love to fuck you in a puddle of blood, you’re right, messes to clean up.” he bent down and gently pressed a kiss to Grian’s forehead. “You look beautiful covered in blood my songbird.” he mumbled to him then pressed another kiss to him.

After a moment of just staring at each other Scar did let Grian stand up, “I had called Jimmy a few minuets ago, he wanted us to pick up pizzas and ice cream after I told him what happened tonight.” he said sheepishly.

Scar chuckled with a fond smile, “Good thing I pack extra clothing, I’ll call Cub here to help with the bodies and get you back to their place... Pizza and ice cream sounds lovely for tonight with friends.” 

Grian nodded in agreement as he sat back and waited while Scar called up Cub. Jimmy also showed up with some spare clothing for Grian at his place, stating that blood on his seats was nothing knew, and Tango would be driving him home while he helps Scar and Cub. He also had on a vex mask

. . .

The Drive back was silent for the first half, as Grian shifted, Tango gave him a sheepish smile, “Well... at least we don’t have to keep secrets any longer.” he joked lightly as Grian did give a small laugh at that.

A pause and Tango sighed, “I’ll listen Grian, if you have anything on your mind.” he offered. “I know I was reeling when I found out a few months back.” he offered to his friend

Grian shifted a bit, then groaned, “Tango I just made out with a killer who is also my best friend, and he just killed 4 people in front of me.” he hide his face in his hands, and gods he loved every minuet of it. Scar had been forceful, but gentle at the same time. Checking on him through the intense make out session they hand. He had some impressive bruises and bite marks on his neck. “And fuck Tango, he’s in a cult too!”

Tango did laugh a bit at Grian’s reaction, “Well you took it better than I did or even Ren’s last lover... who tried to call the cops on Ren.” he grimaced, honestly Grian wasn’t shocked.  Ren’s last guy was found dead a year back... and it seems Grian now knew why. “Bdubs thought it was cool, so guess there is that. I fainted when I caught Jimmy stabbing my Ex.” he said sheepishly.

The passenger stared at his friend as Tango let out another laugh, “Yeah, woke up in Jimmy’s place as he explained everything. Confessing his love for me over and over, what he’d do for me, the peoples he’s killed for me. Honestly, bit much at first, but it ended in sex so... cant’ say your reaction was any better than mine.” he joked.

A pause as Grian looked back out the window, “Never would have guessed.” he commented casually.

“Dude same.” Tango laughed, “Like Cubby being in a cult? That submissive boy?” he grinned as Grian laughed also. “But Jimmy explained a bit, Vexes are supposedly a creature they give Blood and Sex to in return for powers. Not sure how true it is, but he fully believes his life became better. The same he joined he met you, and I suddenly asked you for help in confessing my love to him.

“Jimmy is fully convinced this, and frankly I’m in too deep to do anything against him... not that I’d want to, I love him too much.” Tango sighed heavily, and looked over at Grian for a moment, “I promise G, you’re not alone in this.”

They started to pull up to the house as Tango parked the car, “Come on, Ren and Bdubs are inside and got you a hot bath ran. Take all the time you need, we can talk more once you get out... Scar and them might be a while as they’re also gonna pick up the food.”

Nodding, Grian got out with Tango to get this blood off him, it was starting to harden and flake. And a hot bath sounded great, even if his neck and collar bone felt tender. He was thankful that Ren just greeted him like normal sitting on the couch with Bdubs, they seemed to have paused their card game. 

Grian left to the bathroom while Tango told the two he was taking it slow. He had alot to think about, licking his swollen lips. For a moment he tasted the blood on them, thinking back to Scar on top of him, biting down into his neck.

He took a deep breath... he’d have alot of questions for that idiot when he got back.

-

This took on a life of it’s own, and honestly kind of want to do more with his idea. Going into more stories of the Vex Cult of Killers. Maybe something a bit more NSFW with Scar and Grian. Cub pretty much flirts with everyone in the friend group, confident whore, we love him. Most make Tango a vex, but I decided to spice it up and make it Jimmy this time.

Spelling errors and grammar can’t be bothered right now, I’m too tired to care and it is 8am.

You guys want more, just let me know.

#vex!scar #Vex!cub #goodtimeswithscar #grian #jimmy #tango #cub #renthedog #bdubs #tw dark themes #tw killing #tw blood #tw dark romantization #tw dark #tw smut #tw death #tw dirty talk #tw cults #scarian #rancher duo

[bigkingxl0]

NEW FIC: BODYBUILDING

The creaking highlighted his waddling steps into the kitchen. The same path he took every hour or so, hands cradling the warm bulge of his gut, hungry for more. All those years ago, he'd had no soft dough to hold. But that was years ago. He fished two beers out of the fridge and emptied them into his belly, feeling it expand under his pudgy fingertips. He returned with an armful of snacks, but by the time he managed to start his stream, they were gone.

He flexed for his fans, but his arms grew tired from holding up the thick ring of fat sagging where his bicep hid. He smacked his gut and let loose a rolling belch for the camera. He could barely move under the weight of his food, and the more he moved, the gassier he got. Not that he cared. 

"It all started in that gym!" Chet slurred, head spinning from the combo of weed, pounds of food, and alcohol. He laughed at the photo.

The Chet in the photo flexed in front of the squat rack. It had been shot on a polaroid in a gym that no longer stood, not far from the CUNY campus where he'd studied Personal Training.

His life had been going perfectly. Right out of college he made a name for himself. Although the gym he worked for was fresh, it showed potential -- and so didn't Chet. He too was fresh, his mind was sharp and he was damn good at his job. By design his only hobby was training hard. Obsessively tracking macros and calories. He ate right, never cheated, and cranked away day and night, exercising his body. Lifting heavy, then heavier. He’d won his fair share of "natural" competitions, his name had value in the right circles. He loved that his body put him in the spotlight: Exactly why he needed the self-gratuitous photo taken.

"Chet's happy place!" His gym rat buddies had joked.

He ended up with his pictures in magazines and on websites. He racked up a social media following. He trained a dozen and one Hollywood stars, and catapulted into fitness fame. Chet found his new happy place -- alongside a well-paying spot as the face of the best new fitness brand.

Now, he looked like a slob, half naked body surrounded by a pile of plates and filth. Lifting weights had become lifting the remote. He tweaked his swollen nipples and flexed again, the effort making him fart. He breathed it in, getting worked up and squeezing another out for good measure.

Embiggn had come to him with an offer he couldn't refuse. He had been getting bored of the rat race. He won often, and made money, but it was dull. For a long time he toyed with the idea of starting his own guru brand, and for no good intentions. The company knew he was perfect for their brand: he was a vain, egocentric meathead that needed to get bigger by any means necessary. He took their sponsorship and ran with it, shilling out Embiggn programs and equipment and gym memberships and sponsored nutritionists. He was the biggest face in fitness, and Embiggn grew to become the best selling fitness brand in the US. Sex sells, but sex appeal sells better. Chet and his brand had millions of fans worldwide, and he was plastered all over their merch.

"And now the new life-changing product from... from my one and only sponsor... Embiggn!" he said, like he didn't know what the words meant.

It was the ultimate fitness device, according to Embiggn. It looked like a large crate-like box, marked with the trendy logo and fitted with a touch screen. All you had to do was open the lid and punch in the serial code. After many brain dead tries, Chet managed to enter the short code, and the device sprang to life. It wasn't terribly loud, but very flashy and overdesigned. It moved mechanically at first, then seamlessly slid under him for his "workout", then dispensed several electrodes and simple instructions.

With a clearer head he would have felt ridiculous, but not then. He'd been the perfect beta tester, watching hours and hours of videos training him to be a mindless pig without even knowing. Hours spent gorging, lounging, and growing while he was convinced nothing had changed.

He leaned back into the couch, feeling the prods of the self-assembling parts. Two cold cups suctioned onto his swollen nipples, six electrodes adhered to his stomach, and two to his temple.

"Ready?" A soft voice asked him.

"Hell yea-mmmmph!” The machine had hardly waited for his confirmation. A tube snaked down his throat and pumped his gut full of lard. He moaned around the tube, feeling his already swollen body swell more with every pump. Chet didn't feel bloated; he just felt hungrier and hungrier. Eagerly he sucked the mix down, and as he sucked, his mind withered more and more. 

It had specifically been programmed for his brain — decades of user profiles in their database. They knew more about him than he did. It knew his need to get bigger, and it would help him acquire the level of fitness he wanted. Embiggn hadn't lied. They had formulated each machine to reach into the depths and create perfection. The seat cradled him no matter how much his ballooning body shifted. The machine tugged at his sensitive chest, and milked his cock, all the while pouring pure fat down his throat. Chet realized, dimly, that he'd never felt better in his whole life. And like that, his life was reduced to the machine.

After years of eating up the material on the Embiggn apps, in his mind, he was just as buff as he'd always been. He didn't need an Embiggn brand VR headset to see his body getting stronger instead of fatter, but it had certainly helped. That paired with the spent years eating up the fattening "health supplements" and food around him. 

Desperately he sucked at the tube. He needed more. His wide ass blew right through his tarp like shorts. His tight skin glistened with sweat, his breathing quick and shallow. Between his elephantine thighs, the machine quickened its pace. He thought that his overfilling might end at orgasm, but when he finished three containers to no mercy, he truly gave up. Helplessly he sucked down the fattening cocktail--not that he had much choice--and the last shred of humanity he'd had was lost. A bubbling fart slipped from his ass, and he shot his load. The machine deemed this to be enough pleasure, and relinquished him. The machinery repackaged itself to charge, leaving Chet propped on a couch too fragile to support his weight. It splintered beneath him in pieces, but he was too dazed to notice. 

It was quite a feat of engineering they had managed. As long as he streamed on an Embiggn platform, his image would be one of yesteryear. The Embiggn AI generated a perfect likeness of him, only with his beefy tanned body, and not his hoggish form. When he flexed his cellulite, his digital muscles bulged. Instead of his gut hanging out of his custom Embiggn Personal Trainer tee, his shredded muscles filled it out. Any dopamine spike detected by the program would beef up his digital self even bigger, and bigger they had grown.

It was a new age. The program had changed his life for sure. If he hadn't glossed over his contracts, he'd have known what he signed up for. But no one ever read the contract, the suits at Embiggn knew that. They marketed their ultra fattening, brain melting products as uber-healthy supplements decorated with fitness gods, while the fitness gods that took it became uncontrollably obese, and Chet was no different. Then they provided them with the ultimate distraction, a fantasy world of fame that kept the pigs docile, distracted, and addicted. 

And like sheep, the masses would follow. More people would pick up Embiggn -- through word of mouth, through flashy advertisement, through the millions of bots pumping out positive info. Then it wouldn't just be gym bros made to be massive hogs. In fact, according to the spreadsheets, nearly 45% of all traditional gym goers had given up a physical location for an Embiggn package. That number climbed exponentially every single quarter, and with the release of their New Year's Resolution package, the future looked even fatter.

Chet ended his stream in which his viewers had watched a massively strong man reach his new personal best. In some way, he really had. Three tubs of Embiggn Gainer pumped into his ruined body, three pounds of pure fat gained in one session. He sighed, content with his crippling obesity. After all, he could see he was still the shredded muscle God of his dreams. He smiled for the camera, sluggishly flexing and farting.

His cock ached from overstimulation, but he teased his nipples anyway, drool spilling out of his mouth. He liked being dumb and fat, even if he had no idea that he was. It made his tiny cock hard, and made him cum. And he liked that a lot. Too bad he was too wide to reach the little chub hidden under his massive fat pad. And even if he were to try, all that lard wobbling would tire him right out. Chet needed the Embiggn machine. 

Dependency. That was the future too.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

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#wg fic #my writing #sara2444 #gainer fiction #bhm #slob #gas #linktree

[mamashenanigans]

SURPRISE I come baring KudoxYoichi fruit!!!

Yes! This is the first scene from the next chapter of Urges!

This second chapter is all about Yoichi meeting Kudo and Bruce, but the majority of it will be from AFO’s perspective. This first scene is the only one from Yoichi’s perspective this chapter or, at least, that’s the current plan. Who knows with me, though. I might end up doing a back and forth perspective for this chapter. I’m still feeling it out. Regardless, Kudo and Bruce are brought into the picture and AFO isn’t too thrilled about sharing his brother nor watching him want to give to these complete strangers. Cue awkward first meetings, horror from Kudo and Bruce, and an inevitable “bring your boyfriend to family dinner” scene that will either be hilarious or downright creepy!

This first scene is quite cute and therefore includes a meet cute, but keep in mind what kind of writer I am! Once it switches to AFO, things are going to get weird and creepy.

Anywhooooo, read it below and let me know what you think! If you haven’t read Urges, please do and maybe leave a kudo and/or comment to help me get through my day of grooming dogs. There are only so many times you can shave a doggy butthole before you need a little cheering up! 😝

(The first time I tried to post this, my tumblr app decided to make me look like a fool and double pasted. This is a new post)

“Ugh!”

Yoichi dropped his overflowing basket to the floor as he scoured through the products on the shelves. This particular grocer was a favorite of his as it didn’t just stock Japanese necessities, but also ingredients from other countries. When it opened, he had been over the moon, bugging his brother incessantly about how amazing the selection is.

Per usual, Big Brother was more concerned about how the haul would help him and didn’t care much for Yoichi’s fervent ramblings over his love for the place. The younger twin couldn’t help his excitement nor the chance to tease his brother over the elder most likely never setting foot in the place. That always earned him a hard scowl or a shove to the shoulder. Normally both.

He’d tell himself that it wasn’t his fault his brother rarely deigned to leave the house unless it involved business, but that would be partly a lie. Okay, maybe an entire lie. He sorta, probably, definitely was the cause for his twin’s physicality at this point, however, Yoichi didn’t like to dwell on it especially now that the brothers had come to an understanding about the needs of the other.

Still, this grocery run had become exhausting.

The night prior, the twins had been watching a cooking competition show. Actually, Yoichi had been binging different food related shows all day now that most pre-meta streaming services had finally returned.

Big Brother had started teasing him early in the day, but his annoyance grew every time he found Yoichi glued to the screen, eyes huge, and papers with recipe ideas strewn across the coffee table and couch. The older brother eventually picked up his smaller twin(he didn’t even bother using a meta ability) and took him into the kitchen, setting him on his feet and dramatically motioning to all the advanced appliances.

“How about you pretend you’re on a cooking show and make me something to eat!”

After sticking his tongue out at his brother’s retreating back, Yoichi had hollered, “I totally could be on a cooking show and I’d win!”

His brother’s deep voice answered, “We all have dreams we’ll never attain, dear brother!”

Yoichi was already yawning once they had sat down to eat their frustration-induced dinner, but perked up when he found a new competition show. He almost broke the remote with how hard and quickly he mashed the buttons, and he could feel his brother roll his eyes.

“Really? You aren’t tired of this drivel?”

”Never!”

Once they were done eating, well, once Yoichi was done eating, he couldn’t stop himself from excitedly talking about all the recipes he would love to make.

And that was his first mistake.

His brother grinned at him and pulled Yoichi in close; their eyes locked.

”Hmm, I heard you say a certain dish I would just love to enjoy tomorrow night. If you can make it.”

Yoichi glared at his brother and sat up straight. He crossed his arms. “I can make anything, Big Brother!”

”Oh, really? Then I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making me Tonkatsu ramen!”

Yoichi’s eyes bugged out and he stuttered, “Wh-what?! You, you, dammit, you know I never cut corners! What the hell! That’s going to take me, take me—”

”All. Day.” Big Brother pulled back and held his stomach as he let out a boisterous laugh. Yoichi seethed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

”Please, we’ve always been together. You know damn well when I’m kidding. I’m just helping you realize your dream of being on ‘what’s his face’s show!”

”That face is THE Gordon Ramsey and you know that!”

Big Brother tutted and flapped his fingers. “Yes, yes, the British one that yells. I must admit I respect his gumption. Went right back to that Hell show before America even got back on its feet.”

”It’s Hell’s Kitchen. You know that.”

”Mmmhmm.”

”Ahhhh,” Yoichi screeched and pulled at his hair, “the only way I can do it right is to go right now and get everything! You know it takes over a day, don’t you? I’m going to have to have the broth cooking tonight, it has to stay on the stove overnight, cook more during the day, then it—ugh! Big Brother, I swear, if I didn’t know, explicitly from you saying it all the time, that you’d ‘stop death from taking me’, I’d think you want me to keel over!”

Big Brother just stared at him, a humor twinkling in his eyes and an annoying grin on his face. “Well, I have faith in you, my little twin.”

Yoichi jumped to his feet, gave his brother one last glare, and then grabbed his things. His muttering didn’t subside even after he left and especially when his brother called out, “Don’t take forever and bring me something sweet back!”

Even though Yoichi had returned as fast as he could, his brother still complained he was gone too long. It didn’t help matters that he decided to state as such when Yoichi was still standing in the hall with his arms full of grocery bags and his white locks in a state of disarray.

His rush ended up biting him in the ass the next day once he realized he had completely forgotten the pork belly for the chashu. Luckily, it didn’t take anywhere near as long as the rest of the meal to prepare, but that meant he was now back at the store to buy it. However, Yoichi wasn’t one to ever just buy one thing. Perhaps it was him being spoiled by his brother’s money or his mind working in overdrive to come up with more ways to give. All he knew was that he was fairly certain he was out of paprika. And onion powder. And…maybe 3, or 5, or more ingredients.

Before he knew it, his basket was so full that he felt heavily encumbered. With it on the floor now, he was able to more expertly parse through the delicate glass bottles that lined the shelves.

“Where is it? There it is! No, no, that one doesn’t look good. Is there another brand? I wonder…”

Unbeknownst to Yoichi, another customer had taken to looking through the snacks nearby, which ended up being quite fruitoutus when—

“Oh, shit!”

One of the expensive glass bottles fell from the shelf and Yoichi embarrassingly missed catching it twice before it was caught by a calloused hand.

“Yo, may want to be a little more careful.”

Yoichi hastily grabbed the bottle from the stranger and went to apologize (maybe a bow or two?) but went rigid once he finally set eyes on the man that had saved him from having to profusely apologize to the store owner.

“Um, I…I” Yoichi didn’t have words. He couldn’t say he had felt this emotion before that was blossoming in his chest. It wasn’t like when his urges took over, but definitely danced with the feeling he’d have when taking advantage of the plethora of options on the internet. The kind he was always ready to hide from his brother’s discerning eyes with a quick switch to another window on his laptop.

The man that had saved him from public embarrassment gave him a questioning look. His hair was spiked and a lovely shade of orange. His eyes were red (like Big Brother’s) but not quite the same shade nor intensity, and his skin spoke of a life of hard work. The stranger’s clothes looked like they were chosen in a rush and Yoichi easily found every tear and stain.

He was nothing like the men he enjoyed pleasuring himself to in the dead of night after sneaking out of his and his brother’s shared bed.

Ruggedly handsome. Yes, that’s what he was.

“Uh, you okay there, champ?”

”Oh, uh, yeah, yeah! I’m just dandy!”

”Ah…huh.”

Crap! Yoichi! You are ruining this!

”I, uh, sorry! I just haven’t, um, seen you here before!”

”So, you keep a record of everyone that shops here?”

Yoichi’s face went red and he hurriedly shook his head ‘no’.

“Whoa, there! I’m just kidding!”

”Yes! I just meant that, well, I come here a lot. And by a lot I mean, like, almost everyday, so I was just a little surprised is all…”

”Right. Anyway, it looks like you owe me now. Saved you from having to deal with that grumpy old guy at the front.”

”I heard that, you hooligan!” A gruff voice spoke over the loudspeaker.

”Damn. This place is really nice, isn’t it? Even has a good ‘ol timer to watch me on the cameras like a damn hawk.”

Yoichi laughed and not in a cute way like he wanted. It came out more like it would from his brother.

His brother. Well, that killed the mood.

”Um, thanks for being my hero!”

Good one, Yoichi. Great job. Totally not stupid.

“Heh. Hero, aye? Never heard that one before. Just call me Kudo.”

Yoichi felt a warmth grow within him and not where he’d normally feel his urges. No, much lower.

“I’m, uh, Yoichi.”

”Well, Yoichi, it was good to meet you, but I’d prefer the next time to not include almost destroying pricey merchandise, okay?”

Next time?!

”Yo, Kudo!” A blue haired man near the front with his hair pulled back called out.

Kudo turned slightly to look at him and Yoichi noticed how the other man cocked his head at a stranger checking out. Maybe another friend?

”Well, looks like I need to be going.” Kudo put back the bag of snacks he was holding and turned to leave, but Yoichi stopped him. “Why did you put that back? I can help if you need it! I’ll buy it for you!” The words flew out of his mouth before his brain could catch up. He wasn’t especially adept at speaking with people other than Big Brother. It had always been just them and surviving, but even now that they were comfortable and no longer had to scrap on the streets, Yoichi never had ventured far with finding friends.

“Uh, yeah, no, dude. It’s all good. Something came up, that’s all. Maybe I’ll see you around again, who knows?”

Kudo walked away towards the blue-haired man and they exchanged some words then followed the stranger that had just paid out the door.

“You two better buy something next time! I’m running a business! Not a hostel!” The old man behind the counter yelled.

Yoichi stood there for a few minutes mulling over the strange encounter he just went through.

Oh, god! He just had a meet-cute! His closed smile took over his face and he was partly convinced little hearts must be bursting around his head.

There would definitely be a “next time” as the handsome, not-quite-put-together clothes wearing, orange haired man named Kudo said.

Yoichi’s phone went off interrupting his semi-lustful thoughts. He took a peak and groaned. A text from his Big Brother on the screen.

BigBro: “What the hell is taking you so long? Weren’t you just getting pork? What’s going on—”

Yoichi growled and put his phone back in his pocket.

Great. Of course, his Big Brother would be the one to kill this amazing mood he was having.

But still…

Next time.

#all for one #afo #yoichi shigaraki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha afo #bnha yoichi #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #my fanfiction #second user kudou #mha kudo #kudoichi #mha kudou #bnha kudou #third one for all holder #MHA Bruce #bnha Bruce #yoichi x kudou #ichinii

[whattraintracks]

16. Dance Competition - The Next Mutation

In this essay, I will perform a totally impartial review of select TNM episodes to prove Raph could win a dance competition.

Dancing - "Turtles' Night Out"

Remember when Mikey threw a costume party rave to raise money for endangered animals? No? Probably for the best. All you need to know is that Mikey hosts an all-night rave and makes the other turtles help him with it. They even dance, so let's judge them for it. I mean, on it.

Mikey is a simple but good dancer. Follows the beat well enough and goes with the flow. Mostly simple arm moves, some recognisable stuff, all well executed. I gather he has the most dance experience of the five. And! He does all this while DJing. Could be interesting to watch him show off.

Venus does not dance. Does carry Mace. Good for her.

Leo's moves mostly consist of shadowboxing, kicking, and whatnot. Tries to dance like a normal person and just looks awkward. Bless his heart, he does not know what to do with his limbs. One gal does compliment his moves, though, and they dance together.

Donnie, at first, seems to know what he's doing but also ends up pseudo-fighting or maybe doing aerobics. And he just keeps kicking. There are casualties. Despite this, the ladies are very impressed by him, and he and Leo perform a fun move together, finishing with a classic high foot.

Last but not least, Raph, The Bouncer (his words, he’s so silly I love him). He bops, sways, and hums along to the music, triple threat. Does very little actual dancing, but since this is March for Raph, we should let him win anyway.

Kidding. We obviously don't have enough data to determine he's the winner, so let's score them all out of four here and do the same for their skateboarding and sparring skills.

Scores: Mikey 4/4, Donnie 3/4, Leo 2/4, Raph 1/4, Venus 0/4

Skateboarding - "Unchain My Heart, Part 1"

This is an activity that contains skills related to dancing, right? Yes? Maybe? Alright. Leo and Raph stand out to me as the better skateboarders. Raph trumps Leo because his tricks are cooler, and his lines are funnier. Mikey does well, but not as many tricks as Leo and Raph, who also get more airtime. Venus likely has much less experience than the guys but holds her own. Donnie is dead last since he only stands on his remote-controlled skateboard. Skilled engineer? Yes. Skilled skateboarder? Apparently not.

Scores: Raph 4/4, Leo 3/4, Mikey 2/4, Venus 1/4, Donnie 0/4

Sparring - "Sewer Crash," "Like Brothers," and "Truth or Consequences"

Let's narrow this down to one-on-one spars with Raph, just because.

Raph and Donnie: The particular spar I'm thinking about might be unfair to Donnie, who is being hypnotised at night and not sleeping, but it’s less sparring and more showing off anyway. Raph looks very cool in this scene. Point to Raph.

Raph and Mikey: Raph pretty casually blocks Mikey's attacks and quickly gets him in a hold. Point to Raph.

Raph and Leo: So evenly matched they can fight all day without a definitive winner. Leo is victorious in one episode because he is sufficiently pissed off and spiteful. Raph, in other episodes, overwhelms him with pure strength. Solid tie.

Raph and Venus: She can and does kick his butt, but he's quick to return the favor. He has better technique and more experience that she makes up for with unorthodox methods and magic. Tie.

Scores: Raph 4/4, Leo 4/4, Venus 4/4, Donnie 2/4, Mikey 2/4

Outcomes

After formally and scientifically analysing random scenes with absolutely no bias toward a certain turtle, I've determined the following outcomes for a dance competition. In third place, with 5 points each, we have the ever-lovable Donnie and Venus. Mikey takes second with 8 points, probably lower than he could be because he's too busy daydreaming about what abominations he could be whipping up in the kitchen. And with 9 points, Raph would win . . . and tie with Leo. Tough tortillas, bud. Even in a hypothetical competition rigged in your favor, you're still stuck with him.

--------------------------

Bonus: silly photos of them on a rank podium.

#march for raph #this was really fun to think about #raphael splinterson #donatello splinterson #michelangelo splinterson #leonardo splinterson #venus de milo #the next mutation #tmnt #whattrainofthought

[lover-of-skellies]

If someone asked about og sans, why not og papyrus? :D Gotta love that skeledude <3

Classic Papyrus gets a smooch-ability rating of 10! He’s probably never been smooched before, so kisses with him could be a bit awkward at first, but he’d be the type of get flustered and maybe give a little embarrassed chuckle over it, as opposed to being upset or lashing out

1) Is Paps’ mouth dangerous? Absolutely not. He’s got some big teeth, sure, but they’re all flat. There’s nothing jagged or sharp anywhere in sight, so I’d say he gets 2 points for this

2) Would he bite, and is he aggressive? I can’t see him ever being a biter. If he did, it’d probably be an accidental nip, and he’d be eternally apologizing for it. The only time I think I’ve seen him be even remotely aggressive is when he’s goofing off with Undyne or when he’s getting (playfully) competitive over something, but in ordinary circumstances, nope, there’s not a single fiber of his being that’s aggressive in an “I’m trying to hurt/scare you” kind of way. 2 points for being a sweetheart

3) Are there any health hazards for the smoocher? From what I can tell, nope, he’s perfectly safe. Yeah, his magic is a thing to factor in, but he has good enough control over it for me to believe that there’s little to no chance that he’d ever unintentionally hurt someone with it. He could easily do it if he wanted to, but we all know he’s too nice for that. 2 points for not being the embodiment of a hazard

4) Does he have a sympathetic backstory? Honestly… I hesitate to say yes, because while he lacks a mother or father, Sans raised him and took care of everything financial. All Papyrus really had to do was stay out of trouble. He takes cooking lessons from Undyne and does all this training, trying to show her that he can be in the royal guard one day, but Undyne won’t tell him that she doesn’t think he could do it. Hence why she’s trying to teach him how to cook instead. It’s unfair to him that she’s not being 100% upfront, and also that Sans doesn’t seem completely open and willing to communicate certain things either, so while I do feel just a little bit bad for him, I don’t think he necessarily has endured as much as some of the other characters I’ve rated have. He doesn’t have to worry about money or his and Sans’ house, I’m pretty sure he has no knowledge of the resets, and even if he could be killed over and over in various genocide runs, he wouldn’t remember it. So very reluctantly, I’d say he gets a 0 for the lack of a sympathetic backstory

5) Does he deserve a smooch? He continuously trains his hardest to become part of the royal guard, he tries his best to get better at cooking, and he tries to come up with the best puzzles. He wants to prove that he’s capable, although no one around him seems to get that, unfortunately. Then if the player/Frisk chooses to go the genocide route with things, he’s one of the few characters who’s ready to approach with open arms and a sad smile, willing to give you another chance if you decide that you’re ready to stop and be a better person. He places his life on the line, despite probably being very scared, to try to talk you out of hurting anyone else. I don’t know about anyone else, but when I read through his dialogue in the genocide route for the first time in the moments that led up to his death, I actually cried. So yes, I’d say he’s completely deserving of a smooch, so there’s another 2 points

6) Is he cute or cool? He is both, frankly. He’s a cutie in the sense that he’s so sweet and considerate, he’s funny, and there’s things people have noticed that seem to suggest that he’s always very careful not to hurt Frisk/the player. He’s a gentle giant with an unconventional fashion sense and a unique sense of humor. Then for coolness,, look at him and tell me he’s not. He’s a little bit of a tryhard, but he means well. 2 points for this area, too

In total, Classic Paps gets a rating of 10. He lacks experience with smooching so kissing him with be a little bit clumsy, and I’m sure he’d be flustered and blushy for days afterward, but he’s sweet, so he wouldn’t be upset. If anything, a surprise smooch would just catch him off guard, but that’s it

#anon #asks #classic papyrus #the great papyrus #smoochability rating

[blued-waffle]

These Eeveelutions have been STUCK in my head for way too long. Time to release them.

Character info beneath

--------------------------------------------------

EV

Nickname:

Even

Stats:

Nature: Naive

Ability: Adaptability

Level: 16

Moveset:

Tackle

Tail Whip

Baby-Doll Eyes

Description: A young eevee that wanna make friends. After hearing about how the first dusk lycanroc was discovered, he wanna be the first of a new type eeveelution.

--------------------------------------------------

Erif

Nickname: -

Stats:

Nature: Timid

Ability: Flash Fire

Level: 100 + EV Training

Moveset:

Flamethrower

Smog

Quick Attack

Dig

Description: A competitively-trained flareon that reach a high ranking with an element of surprise. Even though he's a fire type, he can't handle any heat and prefer frozen treat instead.

--------------------------------------------------

Russet

Nickname:

Russ

Big Potato

Fish 'n' Chip

Stats:

Nature: Adamant

Ability: Hydration

Level: 26

Moveset:

Charm

Hyper Voice

Scald

Alluring Voice

Description: A musically talented vaporeon with a spice tolerance of the sun. Performs under the moniker of "Fish 'n' Chip". Has too many hobbies. Is an unaware menace to society. You should never mention a certain piece of text around him.

--------------------------------------------------

Swiss

Nickname: -

Stats:

Nature: Modest

Ability: Quick Feet

Level: 45

Moveset:

Covet

Agility

Volt Switch

Rest

Description: A kalosian jolteon with a rich heritage. Knows how to set tables, wine taste, held parties, bartend, and the sort. The sin of gluttony towards cheese. Sucks at understanding idioms.

--------------------------------------------------

Studio

Nickname:

O

⭕_ (Pronounced "Circle")

_coward

Stats:

Nature: Timid

Ability: Synchronize

Level: 7

Moveset:

Tackle

Flash

Hyper Beam

Description: An umbreon who is solid with words and gaming. Streams speedruns under the pseudonym of "⭕_". When playing casual, he goes by "_coward". Glows white instead of yellow or blue because he has only been exposed to fluorescent light as an eevee. Is scared of the dark. Got hyper beam by mistake.

--------------------------------------------------

ESPEON

Nickname:

Es

Stats:

Nature: Serious

Ability: Magic Bounce

Level: ???

Moveset:

Psybeam

???

???

???

Description: An odd espeon who has a cursor around its neck. It appeared in the PC one day and can't be withdrawn. It is up to something. Only show emotion to who it deems worthy. It has terrible balance. It knows lots of things.

--------------------------------------------------

Nagev

Nickname:

NAGGIN'

Stats:

Nature: Hardy

Ability: Leaf Guard

Level: 36

Moveset:

Iron Tail

Growl

Magical Leaf

Synthesis

Description: A leafeon who knows how to cook but not plate. Use Iron Tail as a knife. Looks intimidating but not. Annoyed that he can't get his hair to stand up. Allergic to beets (Makes his voice very high-pitched). A fair food fanatic. Sucks at technology (Can't operate a remote.) Scared of the cold.

--------------------------------------------------

Glazed Donut

Nickname:

Glazed

GlazyDaisy

Stats:

Nature: Gentle

Ability: Snow Cloak

Level: 82

Moveset:

Helping Hand

Ice Shard

Icicle Spear

Snowscape

Description: A shy mess of a glaceon. Likes Rom Com and Mystery books. Works at a coffee shop of a friend. Is very serious at the job. If the place is too hot the outer ice layer will melt. Captain Oblivious. The Trainer's double battle ace.

--------------------------------------------------

sYlveon

Nickname:

SYLLY

sYlv

Stats:

Nature: Quirky

Ability: Pixilate

Level: 38

Moveset:

Substitute

Light Screen

Misty Terrain

Misty Explosion

Description: An artful sylveon from somewhere odd. Acts differently before being put in the box for the first time. Tries to hard to be a menace to society. Has broken taste buds. Hates being short. Strawberry enthusiast. Has a "MAGIC PAINTBRUSH".

#art #oc #pokemon #eevee #flareon #vaporeon #jolteon #umbreon #espeon #leafeon #glaceon #sylveon #yes i do not know how to use toyhouse #Effort Value #TheHzHare Doodle

[too-destiny-panda]

Wyllvember Day 7: Free day/Father

A/N: And so, we come to the end of Wyllweek, but we are most certainly not done! The rest of Wyllvember is ahead of us, and I plan to do my best to complete it. Special thanks to the lovely @commander-yinello and tehir friend for posting the prompts of Wyllweek and for always taking the time to read my works. As always, credits for the the rest of the Wyllvember prompts go to @sagscrib, whose creativity will continue to accompany us through the rest of the month.

WC:757

Ulder Ravengard made many important decisions in his life, all with deep consequences, be it good or bad. Like when he decided to leave his hometown, leave his father’s smithy, and join the Flaming Fist instead. When his squad’s leader fell, and he had to make the difficult choice whether to retreat or make one final assault when he was a mere cadet. When he became responsible for numerous teams and had to decide which ones would be the best fit to send out on possibly deadly missions. When he decided to marry his wife, and although it was short-lived, it was the best time of his life. The only thing that made him happier than being able to call his beloved ‘his wife’ was calling her ‘the mother of his child’. That came crashing down as she whispered her weak words of love to both him and his newborn son before her life faded away and her smile froze on her lips.

From that day on, he took up the difficult and long task of fatherhood alongside his endless other responsibilities. He was firm and strict, but also did his best to make sure his son didn’t grow up with a stick up his ass. He read stories of heroes to him (the legend of Ansuur and Baldurian were re-read so many times he stopped needing the book at some point), taught how to fight, how to be kind and just, how to enjoy life. He regaled him of tales about his mother, showed him the wishing tree she never had the opportunity to show him herself. Each mistake was corrected and solved, each shenanigan his Wyll took part in was chastised with a spark of amused pride deep in his gut. He was by no means a perfect father, he knew this, often forsaking quality time for some of his duties, but he tried. And he couldn’t be prouder of the young man his son was growing up to be. In his mind, nothing Wyll Ravengard did could make him forsake him. Or at least that is what he thought.

The day he came back from Elturel to find a devil perched on his son’s shoulder, a stone eye replacing one of the original brown ones, was the day he felt at a loss for the first time since the death of his beloved. He didn’t want to believe, couldn’t believe, his son would make a pact with a devil out of selfishness, out of competitiveness or ambition. But as Wyll didn’t say a word in his own defence, as he led him to a clearing void of any indication of battle, any proof that he made a pact out of necessity rather than his own gain, doubts started to cross his mind as to the integrity of his own son’s spirit. The Grand Duke was a no-nonsense type of person. When faced with overwhelming facts pointing to something that disproved his earlier opinion, he had no choice but to make a judgement based on that knowledge. And in this case, that was banishing his son.

It was the hardest choice he has ever made. His heart shattered into million pieces as betrayal put it back together, and all he could muster was one word.

“Go.”

He could practically feel his wife’s spirit begging him to reconsider, his own soul was cursing himself for that choice. But his rational mind convinced him he had made the right choice, driven by facts and evidence. When it came to devils, one couldn’t afford to speculate. Even if it concerned the only family he had left.

This was the one choice Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard never truly, personally, recovered from. Even as the tale of the Blade of Frontiers reached him, knowing by description that it was his son, he forced himself to stop calling him anything remotely familial. Wyll’s room remained untouched, dusty, white fabrics draping over the furniture and paintings within. And Ulder’s most prized memories of his son, until very recently his everything, were locked away in a vault he resolved to never open again.

And when he was kidnapped, dragged away to the fleshy underbelly of Moonrise towers, as he kneeled in front of the monstrosity that would march on his city and as it forced a parasite into his skull, for just a moment, deep down, in a repressed part of himself he didn’t even know about, he secretly felt relief that the weight of his choices wouldn’t weigh on him any longer.

#wyllweek #wyllvember #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #ulder ravengard #blue writes

[jennycalendar]

hello!!!! things to pontificate about. angel. i would just love to hear your thoughts about angel. and the rest of the fanged four. and know that im waiting for that jennyangel fic i really am. but yes! specifically i would love to hear any thoughts you have on the dynamic of jenny/angel/darla. because i think thats just. yeah. darla created angel and angel is such a huge part of jenny's life, and just. yeah. plus the attitude darla has about her soul is so different from angel's

ok so first of all this is such a hilarious question because -- i need you to know this -- i have a jenny/spike/drusilla vamp polycule fic in the works. so just the energy of you asking me about jenny + how she'd interact with the couple in the fanged four that i am NOT currently drafting a vamp polycule fic for is SOOOO FUNNY and also so wonderful bc it gives me an opportunity to really think here! i love you for this.

long wordy answers under the cut!

my thoughts on angel. hmm. i think i am mean to him a lot on this blog but i hope everyone here knows it's out of love. i think i want to see him and jenny have a Gothic Romance that is really fucked up. i think he and cordelia rewired my brain at 14 and i've never recovered -- there's no other love story with that specific friends-to-lovers energy in the buffyverse, and i LOVE that it grows out of the people we see them grow into! i love that btvs s1 angel and cordelia are not even remotely compatible long-term but ats angel and cordelia develop this incredible friendship that blossoms into a loving connection! and actually maybe a lot of this is just how i'm not normal about angel and cordelia, ever. i think angel on btvs and angel on ats are two different characters so when i'm beating angel on btvs over the head with a stick that has nothing to do with angel on ats and i hope we all know that. world's most favorite manpire. mr. dad. sings barry manilow and wants cordelia to say she loves him as a friend and colleague. is soooo normal.

i don't spend A Lot of time thinking about the fanged four simply because, again, not my circus not my monkeys, but i have a softness for them!!! spike i have mentioned i sorta steer clear of lately, but i would literally fucking kill a man for drusilla, who is done so dirty in canon and fanon alike, and i think all the time about jenny/drusilla because they would be so insanely obsessed with each other as vampires.

and darla...hmm. i have never quite felt like i know how to capture her voice in a way that's particularly nuanced, though that's never been a problem within my writing bc she really only cameos in, like, nocturne for two seconds? i think? i'm not usually writing things set in a time/place where darla would be around so she just kinda never shows up.

iiiii think jenny's take on darla would be one of just intense crushy interest, because darla holds absolute power over the man who has held absolute power over her. like there's something super aspirational about darla to jenny. darla meanwhile would probably initially harbor a lot of resentment towards jenny, but actually getting to know her would probably have her do a complete 180. (i think darla n drusilla would both be super fucking interested in jenny, who grew up in this family surrounded by every reason to hate them and still tried to find a way to forge her own path. they'd want her in the family.)

i also think though that IF turned, IN a situation where darla's still around, jenny and darla would be in a really intense competition for control of the family dynamic that would slowly but surely transition into a really intense romantic connection. so there would be a lot of Romantic Weirdness when it comes to jenny/angel/darla because both of them want his attention, and both of them want each other's attention, and both of them think that they should be the one in charge, and the entire time they're probably both having a lot of fun with it because it's a Sexy Slightly Violent Power Struggle. also angelus likes pretending that he has the capacity to put jenny in her place and jenny likes crushing him under her heel and darla really will look at that situation and go "that is 100 percent my baby girl" (and i do mean that in a sex way.) though i wonder if in this situation drusilla and jenny might have some weird vibes a la jenny and buffy? where there's a lot of similarities and so drusilla has some Older Sister resentment, because SHE had it hard, and now mom and dad know how to parent better and the baby is just getting SPOILED, and how is THAT fair?

#asks #headcanon #basically: vamp jenny. thank u for ur time

[aquaburst3]

I'm starting my own take on Pomefiore. That means Neige is coming into play a lot more. While I seen posts saying why they enjoy him and think he's a fleshed out character, I still think he's the complete opposite.

He has almost no personality. His good personality traits are similar to the Golden Aged princesses and princes. Charming, kind, gullible and easily forgiving. There is nothing inherently wrong with this. I enjoy Cinderella. I don't mind Snow White for what she is, especially given the fact it was one of the first animated movies ever and was created at a time when male writers didn't know how to write female characters yet. The problem is that none of Neige's similar traits are examined or developed. He is as static and bland as they come. Hell, Snow White from the 30s movie is a better developed character than him! That REALLY says something...

He has done some pretty shitty things in the arc. He picked his buddies to be on his team, slamming the door on anyone else at RSA with actual talent. Instead of working on his routine, he came up with a half assed on. He relied on the dwarves' cutesiness and childlike appearance to win over the crowd, going against everything the competition stands for. Do I think Neige is a bad person for this? Absolutely not. However, like Kalim, I think he's an inconsiderate, thoughtless and selfish person, who is like a Disney prince who just skipped straight to his happy ending without earning it. Unlike Kalim who learns that how he's acting is hurting others, especially Jamil, and tries to improve himself, Neige is treated as being in the right and never learns anything, despite hurting many other people. That is anger inducing.

He's also rather dumb and gullible. He takes the drink from Vil without even questioning it.

His connection with Vil is all "tell" and no "show." We only get Vil's perspective on the situation. While I love Vil and he's one of my favourites in the game, even I admit he's extremely biased. We never get a chance to learn anything about Neige from his own words. Vil and Neige never directly interact till the climax, despite Neige being the antagonist of that arc.

The same goes for his acting ability. We're told that he's an amazing actor, but are never shown any examples other than two commercials. Let's face it. Acting in a commercial is different than in a movie or tv show.

Honestly, the canon doesn't show us anything that proves that Neige is more talented than Vil in regards to acting and singing. If anything, it seems like the exact opposite. It comes across like Neige is coasting by on only his looks.

I'm 95% sure that Yana pulled that info about Neige right outta her ass after Rook's VA received death threats from the Japanese fandom. For one, all of that info came out AFTER this incident instead of being woven in organically into the previous book. None of it was even remotely hinted at in advanced nor makes any sense when you think about it more than a few seconds. It's so tacked on that I don't even consider it canon. (Seriously, why the hell wasn't Neige taken away by Child Protective Services if he was a minor living with seven other kids, who don't seem all there? What the hell happened to his parents?)

Any opportunity to give them a deeper connection is completely dodged by the narrative. Again, why aren't they stepbrothers? It would make them resemble the original story more and have Neige's backstory make far more sense.

At the end of the day, Neige is just a cardboard cutout for Vil to sneer at and that's it. Ironically, Neige's such an underdeveloped and boring character that Vil is better Snow White analog than him, despite technically being based on the Evil Queen. Both Vil and Snow White are adaptable, capable, stern, value hard work, and want to help out other become their best selves.

Honestly, it's a damn shame. Neige could've been an interesting and fun character, but that was all dodged in favour of lazy and shitty writing. Hopefully my take on his character with his new backstory will improve him a lot, including making Neige Vil's stepbrother.

#twst negative #twst critical #aqua rambles

[turtleedovee]

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Chapter Three: I Do Love Nothing in this World

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: cursing, drug deals, (if I miss anything let me know

taglist: (send ask or message if you’d like to be added)

A/N: so i just got done watching stranger things... i’m not gonna spoil anything but i will say i was sufficiently heartbroken. i hope you all enjoy this chapter. i tried fixing the links to the chapters but something went wrong and i would probably have to delete it and then reupload it but whatever it’s fine. once i’m done i will upload all of this to ao3! hope you all enjoy :)

Snippet:

Eddie wouldn’t say that he hated (F/N), sure she was annoying, stubborn, mean, and a bit uptight, but he wouldn’t say he hated her. 

He also didn’t expect a lot of things from her either.

He didn’t expect her to be quick to catch his antics and know how to deal with them.

It only took a few days for her to catch up on whatever he tried pulling, it was scary in some cases, but also quite… thrilling?

If there was one thing he loved it was pushing her buttons, and she gave him full access.

It was the little things he would enjoy, like always being late, or obviously procrastinating the work, or even invading her personal space.

It drove her crazy.

But she caught on too fast, ruining his fun.

So on occasion he would triple her up, and he did so by occasionally showing up on time.

“Ah ha! See? 4:00 PM on the dot—” He saw her staring at the library door.

They had been at this for 3 weeks.

Tutoring Eddie Munson had become less of a grueling chore and more of a game to see who could annoy each other more first. She had grown accustomed to his antics and like the fast learner she was, learned how to get him on task before he strayed so far from the assignment it was hopeless trying to get him back.

They mostly met in the library after school, or in a secluded spot in the woods where he claimed no one else in Hawkins knew where it was.

Or so he thought.

A groan broke her train of thought, Eddie finally showed up and slumped down on the bench across from her.

“What’s wrong?” She asked listlessly.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, rolling her eyes as she looked over at the pitiful face of Eddie Munson.

“C’mon tell me what’s wrong? If you don’t you’ll never be able to focus.”

He sighed, “Ah you know me so well don’t you?” She just gave him a look, gesturing for him to go on, “Fine!” Sighing with exasperation.

“Some dickwad stole my deal.”

She cocked her head to the side, puzzled.

“I was supposed to do a deal with one of the kids from marching band— who knew right?— And when he showed up he said he, ‘got a better deal.’” She couldn’t help but crack a smile, whenever Eddie got remotely upset his nose scrunched up and he balled his fists.

Noticing her amusement at the situation he whined, “It’s not funny! I thought I was the only dealer in Hawkins, now I’ve got competition. I swear I’m gonna find out who this asshole is.” He chewed at the end of lip in thought.

“Whatever you say, are you ready to start now?”

She pushed a notebook towards him, he glanced at it, then her.

“Sure.”

                                       ————————————

Eddie wouldn’t say that he hated (F/N), sure she was annoying, stubborn, mean, and a bit uptight, but he wouldn’t say he hated her. 

He also didn’t expect a lot of things from her either.

He didn’t expect her to be quick to catch his antics and know how to deal with them.

It only took a few days for her to catch up on whatever he tried pulling, it was scary in some cases, but also quite… thrilling?

If there was one thing he loved it was pushing her buttons, and she gave him full access.

It was the little things he would enjoy, like always being late, or obviously procrastinating the work, or even invading her personal space.

It drove her crazy.

But she caught on too fast, ruining his fun.

So on occasion he would triple her up, and he did so by occasionally showing up on time.

“Ah ha! See? 4:00 PM on the dot—” He saw her staring at the library door.

                                                    CLOSED 

He glanced at her, she stared intently at the door, she always chewed on her lip whenever she was in deep thought.

After a beat, she turned around, “Well the library’s no good, don’t suppose we can go to the table in the woods today?”

He sucked in the breath through his teeth, “No can do, princess, got a deal there after this and I don’t wanna lose it to whatever shit stain is taking my customers.”

Rolling her eyes she replied, “Well where else do you suggest we go?”

Before his brain could reach his mouth he blurted out, “We could go to my place.”

She just stared at him blankly, he mentally kicked himself for suggesting such a stupid—

“Sure.”

He blinked, at first not knowing what to say, but he recovered quickly, “Wow that was quick, didn’t know you were so eager to see my humble abode.”

“And you offered quicker,” She shot back, starting to walk into the parking lot, “let’s go hotshot, we don’t got all day. And remember what I said about calling me princess.”

Again, stunned to silence, he couldn’t help but laugh.

She was something else.

                                        ————————————

If she was being quite honest with herself, she was curious to see where Eddie resided, not that she would ever tell him, it was like wanting to see a lion's den at the zoo. And while the drive to his trailer wasn’t filled with palpable tension, she sure was.

When they finally arrived the sun was inching slowly but surely under the trees, light hues of blue and purple slowly creeping their way into the sky. 

He opened the door for her, slowly walking in and she took note of the space; it was nice, cozy. Warm lights decorated the living room, things looked worn but comfortable.

“Make yourself at home.” She could sense some tension, she wasn’t sure if this was the first time someone from school had ever been inside his living space, but she could understand where he was coming from.

“Need anything?” She shook her head, “Alright well lemme get my stuff, be right back.”

He disappeared into the other room for a bit, she began looking around and noticed a bookshelf, 

“Gotta nice collection of books here Eddie.” He poked his head out for a second, smiling at what she said, “Thanks, some of those are my uncles.”

“Some Stephen King horror, The Hobbit and—” Continued scanning until something else caught her eyes

No way.

She grabbed the book and chuckled, looking over to where Eddie had headed off she walked over to him, leaning on the doorway and smirked,

“You’re a Shakespeare fan?” Holding up the book, Eddie looked up and laughed, there was not a hint of shame.

“What? Just because I’m a DnD playing metal head doesn’t mean I can’t like classic literature.” He joked.

“Oh no I’d be more surprised if you didn’t read Shakespeare,” She glanced at the cover, “Macbeth huh? Sounds about right.”

“And what does thine lady mean by all that?” He asked inquisitively.

Making her way inside his room she pushed, “Just the whole witches, spell casting, death, madness, blah blah blah. It kinda fits your whole vibe.”

“And you seem like the kind of lady to find joy in the writer's more comedic stories.”

Feigning shock, “How’d you guess?”

Groaning, Eddie made his way closer to her, “You can’t seriously tell me Shakespeare’s comedies are more iconic than his tragedies.”

“Just because they’re well known and loved doesn’t mean that his other works aren’t also masterpieces!” She sized him up, “I’d expect you of all people to understand that.”

Clutching his chest as if she really hurt him he winced playfully, “You have truly wounded me, Lady (F/N).”

“You’ll get over it.” She laughed.

Not noticing the look that Eddie gave her when he heard her laugh, his chest felt a little warmer, and suddenly he found himself unable to breathe.

Quickly trying to recover he said, “Well what comedies does the Lady (F/N) find entertaining and worth a chance at my attention.” He patted a spot next to him on his bed.

She playfully rolled her eyes, “Well there’s Midsummer—”

“Oh c’mon that one is obvious! Give me a harder one.”

Chuckling, she thought more about it, “Um, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, Merchants of Venice, Much Ado About Nothing?”

Marking them off like a checklist, Eddie listed them all on his hand, “Definite yes, no, meh, and never read it.”

She did a double take, “You haven’t read it?” Eddie shrugged innocently, “Okay when we’re done with this I’m going home and lending you my copy.”

Eddie laughed at her enthusiasm, “Well if you’re lending me a copy it’s only fair I lend you one myself.” He got up and made his way to his bookshelf.

She felt slightly colder, not realizing that she was relying on his body heat for warmth.

He shouted triumphantly when he found what he was looking for, “Antony and Cleopatra. One of— I think— his best tragedies.”

“If you’re so well versed in Shakespeare how is it possible you are struggling in English Lit.” She joked.

Waving her off dismissively, “That’s not the point— the point is: if you want me to read your silly story, then you have to read my tragic one.”

He got down on his knees, now eye level with her, hiding behind the book. She wouldn’t tell him, but she had read the story before, but she thought it was cute how he wanted her to read something he enjoyed as much as she wanted him to.

Pretending to think it over she sighed, “I guess,” gingerly taking the book and looking at its cover, “but now, we have to get to work.”

Eddie grimaced, “Dangit princess, I thought I finally fooled you.”

“Ha, you could never fool me Munson.”

He sighed, giving her a small and genuine smile, “Yeah. I know.”

                                       ————————————

She opened her locker, trying to run through what she needed to take home for work today, when she sensed a presence right next to her locker door.

However when she closed her locker, she was surprised— and slightly disappointed— that it wasn’t Eddie.

He flashed her a wad of cash, “You got stuff?”

She quickly shoved his hand down and looked around for anybody who would be looking, “Keep your voice down Miles!” Sighing she grabbed the rest of her stuff and made her way to somewhere more private, “Come with me.”

They walked to the back of the school, in between two of the buildings that were covered by the fence that led into the track field and the few trees that were littered around campus.

“Look, can we make this quick? I got places to be.” She asked impatiently.

Miles McCoy. He was one Jason Carver’s henchmen, his wild red hair and lanky figure wouldn’t have been a give away, but he wore his letterman jacket with pride and without washing it.

“Are you sure your deals are better? I was talking to a few other people and they said Munson’s—”

“Look,” she said in her sickly sweet voice, “you wouldn’t buy curdling milk, would you?”

He cringed, “No ew.”

“Exactly! Munson’s crap is old, did you know that weed doesn’t work half as well when it’s been sitting in a box for over a week?” She lied.

The best thing about doing deals with basketball players is that they weren’t the brightest in all of Hawkins.

He still looked pensive, unsure about the deal.

“If you’re not ready for this I get it,” Feigning concern for his well being, “I mean, just tell Jason that you weren’t ready for—”

“Of course I’m ready!” He puffed up his chest defiantly.

She smiled, “Well then let's do this, but first I have some rules.” He looked puzzled. 

“Number 1: You don’t know where you got this. You don’t mention me by name and you most definitely don’t tell Munson you got your weed from someone else, got it?” The sweetness in her voice long gone, now replaced with venom, “Number 2: All sales final. And Number 3: If you fail to follow rule one I will make sure you’re benched for the rest of the season, and we wouldn’t want people to question why those nimble fingers were all bruised and broken would we?” Miles looked sufficiently horrified and nodded quickly, shoving the money her way as she gave him the weed.

“Nice doing business with you.” She smiled and began to walk away when he called out to her, “Wait!”

She turned around looking bored, “What?”

He looked nervous, “So if people wanna know where to get a good deal, who do I send them to?”

Thinking about it she smirked, “I’ll see you around Miles.”

Walking away, she left Miles more confused than before, he looked at the bag, a note scribbled two words.

The Fool.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 spoilers #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #enemies to lovers