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#trust me bro i am literally the last person to cross the line when i get emotional (usually excited sometimes angry or horny)
craycraybluejay · 3 months
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yeah yeah you hate me I'm an evil disgusting perverted manwhore we have each other blocked everywhere blah blah but I know you still jerk off to me and I know it makes you hate yourself a bit because you don't have the strength to accept the darker parts of your desire. but you can't help yourself and I take pleasure in the knowledge.
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ladyartemesia · 3 years
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All I Want For Christmas is You
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Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader
Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...
Genre: Comedy • Fluff  • Smut
Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers
Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx  • @underthejoon • @yeojaa​ • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi
Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •
Acknowledgements:
To @ppersonna​ (Lindy) @underthejoon​ (Fal) and @xjoonchildx​ (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.
To @untaemedqueen​ (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you. 
To @hobi-gif​ for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor. 
To @lemonjoonah​ as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar. 
Please Picture This Taehyung:
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“No.”
“Yes.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”
“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”
Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow. 
“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”
The man in question shifted uncomfortably.
“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”
“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”
Taehyung’s jaw dropped. 
“You RECORDED IT?!”
Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”
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“He did WHAT?!”
Your mother winced. 
“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”
“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”
Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite. 
“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”
Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them. 
“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”
The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough. 
“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered. 
“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”
Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back. 
You would play along with their humiliating schemes. 
For now.
“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me? 
For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous. 
��Kim Taehyung.”
You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa. 
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“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”
The man in question could barely restrain his grin. 
“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”
“I could pay you more.”
“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”
“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”
“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”
If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.
“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”
“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”
Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.
“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”
Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 
“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?” 
“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”
The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin. 
However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways. 
Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children. 
Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend. 
In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).  
Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder. 
The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another. 
“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds. 
He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face. 
“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”
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Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before. 
He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus. 
That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs. 
In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard. 
But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous. 
A woman. 
Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it. 
Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone. 
Because the sight of you could make a man desperate. 
Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens. 
His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high. 
“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”
And just like that the brat was back. 
Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you. 
“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen. 
Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears. 
“Of course not,” he chuckled.
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The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage. 
Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees. 
You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served. 
“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”
“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation. 
“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”
“Harkins?”
“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”
Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste. 
“Okay... What about Kang?” 
“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.” 
“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”
“She was about to grab your ass.”
Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.
“She’s eighty-five!”
“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”
“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed. 
“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”
Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation. 
“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly. 
You shrugged. 
“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”
“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”
The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit. 
Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties. 
“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”
“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”
“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”
Taehyung crossed his arms smugly. 
“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.” 
“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.” 
A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 
“I can think of several women who might disagree.”
He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before- 
“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”
“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily. 
“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”
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It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom. 
It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi. 
The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you. 
“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan. 
“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”
Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response. 
It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson. 
“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”
Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus. 
Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung. 
“It would be my pleasure.”
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“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. 
An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man. 
“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket. 
Jungkook picked up on the second ring. 
“Sir?”
“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”
“You want me to what?!” 
“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver. 
Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him. 
1 New Message from: Jungkook
Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch? 
Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts. 
You picked up on the fourth ring. 
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”
“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”
“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”
“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”
The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker. 
“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”
He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened. 
“Are you alone?”
You snorted. 
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
Taehyung saw red. 
“I’m coming over.”
There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages. 
“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”
“With who?!”
“With myself, you idiot!”
“Prove it!”
“Fine! I will!”
The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again. 
1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 
He almost choked on his tongue. 
You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.  
At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…
A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie. 
You were exquisite. 
A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it. 
Desire. 
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Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny. 
1 New Message from: Kim Grinch 
I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh. 
Your head tilted in confusion. 
There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-
Oh NO.
You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true. 
… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie. 
Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming. 
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“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”
Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers. 
“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”
“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”
“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned. 
“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”
Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them. 
PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA
WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS
NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION 
“The Park Angel?” 
“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled. 
“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”
As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand. 
“This is a flaming disaster.”
“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”
“Which one was that?!” 
“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”
Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation. 
“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”
“She has. Twice.”
“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”
“No.”
“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”
“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”
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After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child. 
By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).
You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively. 
Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream. 
Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing. 
Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape. 
“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet. 
Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-
He peeked again.
I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits. 
“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked. 
The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.
You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz. 
The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee. 
For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...
Taehyung was laughing. 
You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter. 
But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else. 
Something that felt an awful lot like longing. 
“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly. 
Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...
Almost. 
“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.” 
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Disaster struck at dinner. 
Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence. 
The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—
Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip. 
Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression. 
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern. 
“I-I need—” 
It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried. 
“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall. 
“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged. 
“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”
“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically. 
At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked. 
You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his. 
“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”
Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream. 
“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”
The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat. 
“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”
You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.
“Why won’t this—”
His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge. 
“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.” 
You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response. 
There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain). 
“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”
He blinked. Twice. 
“I’m sorry—What did you just—”
“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”
He gulped. 
His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.
This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—
Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed. 
(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.) 
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice. 
You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped. 
Oh.
His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away. 
Taehyung wet his lips reflexively. 
“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.” 
Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset. 
You were so warm.
So soft...
“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.” 
His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again. 
“Hold on to me.”  
You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.
If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life. 
You could almost pretend that it meant nothing. 
Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...
“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice. 
He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin. 
“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”
You drew in a final steadying breath. 
“Do it.”
He nodded. 
“One… Two… Three—”
Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once. 
Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset. 
The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets. 
And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest. 
It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—
“... Is… everything alright here?”
You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you. 
Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this. 
He gulped again. 
“I can explain.” 
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It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles. 
Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen. 
Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars. 
Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define. 
Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring. 
His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful. 
Just like you.
He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves. 
Lies.
… and pitifully transparent ones at that. 
Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation. 
The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation. 
1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 
I made it home safely. 
Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions. 
To: Park Gremlin
I require proof… like last time. 
He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief. 
You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung. 
And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-
The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response. 
His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-
And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.
At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle… 
same mirror.
Yet this time, the reflection was quite different. 
The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow. 
He wanted to rip them off with his teeth. 
 “Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”
Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen. 
1 New Message from: Kim Grinch
Green is my favorite color. 
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“WHERE IS HE—”
Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him. 
Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper. 
“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”
Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through. 
“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”
Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare. 
“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”
Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest. 
KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL
FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION
NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE 
PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE
He winced a bit at that last one. 
“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”
Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him. 
“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”
“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante. 
Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner. 
“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”
Taehyung sighed heavily. 
“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”
“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?” 
“WHAT?!” 
“NO! Mother! Oh my—”
“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”
Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation. 
“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”
Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in. 
“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!” 
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“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically. 
He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress. 
Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin. 
You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses). 
Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant. 
Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard. 
Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you. 
“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table. 
Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.
“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back. 
“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”
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The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning. 
For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit. 
Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity. 
Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess. 
It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…
“I never thought I’d see you here.”
A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you. 
“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”
The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible. 
“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”
“I avoided them.”
I avoided you. 
Milo nodded. 
“I—I figured.” 
He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”
“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”
“Excuse me.” 
You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate. 
“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.” 
You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm. 
“No—please if you just give me a minute—”
“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed. 
“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”
Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him. 
“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”
Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another. 
“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off. 
After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. 
“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”
Taehyung laughed. 
“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.” 
You grinned. 
“I’d forgotten about that.”
“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.” 
(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.) 
“I wish I could forget about Milo.”
“... Are you still in love with him?” 
The words tasted like ash in his mouth. 
“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”
Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing. 
“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”
you. 
You cleared your throat. 
“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”
Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way. 
“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”
Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort. 
“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”
Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him. 
“I should kill him.”
You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself. 
“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”
“He has good instincts.”
“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”
“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”
It would be so easy to care for you. 
“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”
You nodded. 
“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”
The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it. 
“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”
“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”
“... Like you?” 
The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed. 
Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak- 
“What’s going on, guys?”
You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you. 
Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet. 
“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”
Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately. 
“Where is he?”
“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.” 
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The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. 
The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines. 
Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them. 
His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it... 
“You look like a vampire.”
Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were. 
You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame. 
If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel. 
Still…
Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass. 
“I think I’m offended.”
“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”
Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. 
“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”
You shrugged playfully. 
“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”
A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before... 
This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view. 
Lord have mercy. 
“Of course not,” he coughed. 
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“You’re what?!”
You rolled your eyes.
Tonight had been going rather well. 
The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...
Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event. 
“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”
“Does your brother know about this?!”
“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails. 
“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”
“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”
You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest. 
“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”
“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”
Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd. 
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“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”
Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”
“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”
His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.” 
“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”
Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go. 
“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!” 
Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend. 
After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.
Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars. 
Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.) 
Then it was your turn. 
“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”
“Ten thousand.”
Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief. 
Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay. 
“Eleven thousand.”
“Twelve thousand.”
“Fifteen.”
“Sixteen thousand dollars.”
“Seventeen thousand.”
“Eighteen.”
Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach. 
“Twenty thousand.”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“Thirty thousand!”
At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was. 
Milo.
Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray. 
“Forty thousand.”
Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink. 
You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest. 
No. 
Milo was still bidding. 
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
Not her. 
“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.
She’s mine. 
Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet. 
“One hundred thousand dollars!” 
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The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening. 
Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you. 
The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation. 
And hope. 
Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company. 
His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey. 
You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—
Yet you never dared hope for it. 
However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship. 
For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction. 
Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…
But he didn’t need to buy your heart. 
It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 
He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it. 
The next move was yours and you intended to make it. 
“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts. 
Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern. 
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”
“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“Do you want to see?” 
Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours. 
You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—
Then he nodded...
And you both were lost. 
Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra. 
Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely. 
“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one. 
He bit back a moan. 
“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 
You nodded. 
“Kiss it better.”
Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch. 
This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago. 
He knew he shouldn’t—
but he could never deny you. 
“Of course.”
You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it. 
It was for you. 
He wanted you. 
Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving. 
Touch me… please. 
Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath. 
Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank. 
“Taehyung—“ you moaned. 
Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.
Sweet merciful heavens. 
Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill. 
You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno. 
The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls. 
“T-Tae—”
Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—
He was marking you. 
And you wanted it. 
Oh how you wanted it. 
Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.
“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled. 
You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast. 
“Speak up.”  
“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.” 
“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”
Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—
“Madame. We’ve arrived.”
The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice. 
Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands. 
Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed. 
Did we just...
You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse. 
1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈
I need to know you made it safely to your room. 
You grinned. 
Greedy boy. 
Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.
Taehyung growled in frustration. 
She would be a tease. 
To: Angel 🤬🥵😅
I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease. 
He shook his head. 
I have officially gone insane. 
The phone buzzed again. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Well… We can’t have that can we… 
Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture. 
Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe. 
The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast. 
He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.
To: Angel 🤬🥵😅
That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel
The screen lit up again almost immediately. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...
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Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.
“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”
Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa. 
“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”
“I need to talk to him now.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”
Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child. 
“I know he’s up there.”
Jungkook grinned. 
“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”
“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs. 
Jungkook took another long pull of his drink. 
“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”
“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”
The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him. 
A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph. 
“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”
“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”
Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him. 
“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”
He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back. 
“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”
“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”
Jimin scowled and crossed his arms. 
“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”
“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”
Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead. 
“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”
“Oh… Well.”
Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed. 
“He has to come down eventually.”
“One would think.”
The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains. 
"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!" 
Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air. 
“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”
“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”
Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce. 
“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”
Jimin stopped struggling. 
“Oh?”
Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket. 
“He’s gone, sir.”
“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”
“However…”
“... However?”
“I had to give him your spa passes.”
“YOU DID WHAT?!”
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“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes. 
“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”
“It’s complimentary, sir.”
The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear. 
Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable? 
“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”
Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast. 
“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt. 
Jungkook bit his lip.
“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”
The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp. 
Both men winced. 
“I think that was your grandmother’s.”
Taehyung sighed. 
“I admit there have been… some developments.”
Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details. 
“... Such as?”
Taehyung gulped. 
“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”
“There may have been? Are you not sure?”
Taehyung colored guiltily. 
“Well—”
“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”
“Absolutely not.”
Jungkook grinned. 
“That’s what I thought.”
Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand. 
“Things have… escalated a bit.”
“Escalated how?”
I licked her tit in the back of a limo.
“Physically.”
It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face. 
“That’s… shocking.”
“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled. 
A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.
“So what are you going to do, sir?”
Taehyung was silent for a long moment. 
“I honestly have no idea.”
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Watching you walk toward him was an experience.  
Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed. 
Your dress tonight was deadly. 
It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg. 
Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long. 
Oh help. 
Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say. 
So he didn’t say anything at all. 
Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—
And you tolerated that for about three minutes. 
“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”
The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation. 
Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline. 
“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”
“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”
Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that. 
She is definitely trying to kill me. 
“Should I be worried?”
Now it was your turn to grin. 
“I guess we’ll find out.”
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The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately. 
But it was well worth the price of admission.
Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion. 
It was like stepping into a fairytale. 
Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking. 
You were breathtaking.  
“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”
The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago. 
“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”
Your eyes widened. 
“N-nephew?”
Taehyung shrugged. 
“I don’t really talk about it much.” 
The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness. 
“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”
“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”
“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”
You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away. 
The Governor just shook his head and laughed. 
“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”
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Everywhere you looked there was beauty. 
Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening. 
All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...
Until she showed up. 
“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”
Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels. 
“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”
“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”
Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman. 
Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.
“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”
Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner. 
“Yes. Of course. This is—”
“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”
“His date,” you deadpanned. 
“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”
“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”
Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned. 
“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”
Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word. 
Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back. 
“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”
Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow. 
“Some other time perhaps.” 
Aubrey pouted prettily. 
“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”
Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look. 
“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”
“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”
“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you. 
“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly. 
“Aubrey... Listen I—”
She cut him off with a finger to his lips.
“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”
He grinned. 
“Never.”
The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.
“What a shame.”
Then she strolled off with a rueful smile. 
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“You know what I don’t understand?”
You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous. 
“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”
The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction. 
Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.
“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”
Oh he’s good. 
You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully. 
“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”
Yoongi sighed and shook his head. 
“Couldn’t be me.”
You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it. 
Alas. 
You tilted your head speculatively. 
Surely there was no need to brush away good company...
After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me. 
“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”
Yoongi held out his hand. 
“I’d be delighted.”
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Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.  
Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you
—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi. 
It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels. 
Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play. 
Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile. 
“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”
Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. 
“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”
“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”
You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine
“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching. 
Oh boy. 
Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him). 
You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily. 
This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate. 
You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move. 
Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 
You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink. 
Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid. 
“Are you alright?”
His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence. 
You glared. 
“Just fine, thank you.”
A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.  
On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”
You nodded sharply. 
Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second. 
Yet you made no move to stop him. 
You should have. 
You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—
But you didn’t. 
So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing. 
You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties. 
“T-Taehyung—” 
“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).
“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.
You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork. 
However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head
“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.” 
Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this. 
You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot. 
Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness. 
“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”
Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment. 
Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.
It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering. 
“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb. 
At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. 
“Ms. Park, are you well?”
Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy. 
“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”
“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”
Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.
Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive. 
There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it. 
“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there. 
Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking). 
When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—
just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt. 
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Emotions were a funny thing. 
They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior… 
And occasionally eroded your common sense. 
Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects. 
His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor. 
His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown. 
His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said. 
It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious. 
Frustration—
I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!
Rage—  
Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now. 
Jealousy—
You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same. 
But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing. 
You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life. 
He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...
But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you. 
Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man. 
Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple. 
And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—
Emotion became action.
“Mind if I cut in?”
It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms. 
“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”
“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”
Your mouth dropped open. 
“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”
Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”
Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him. 
“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”
The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again. 
“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”
“I did!”
“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”
“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”
“But—”
“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”
“You didn’t come after me!”
“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”
“Really? Well what else did she grab?”
Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become. 
People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open. 
Well that’s great. 
Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.
“What are you doing?”
“Continuing this discussion in private.”
“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides. 
“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”
Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod. 
The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls. 
After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy. 
You almost giggled when you got a look inside. 
On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.
However—
The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors. 
Reflection suite indeed. 
The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.
“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”
“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”
“Then why did you take us here?”
“Because you were shouting—”
“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”
Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours. 
He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things. 
But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost. 
He had to kiss you then. 
You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more. 
The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need. 
Finally. 
Everything was him. 
Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn. 
“Taehyung—”
His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—
Not that he was prepared to be polite about it. 
“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”
Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.
Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him. 
But not today. 
The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.
“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.
“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure. 
“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—” 
He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.
It was so so good. 
“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”
If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife. 
But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication. 
“Yes!” you sobbed.
The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.
Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss. 
“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”
His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed. 
“You’ve been saying that for years.” 
“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed. 
Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.
“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear. 
“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it. 
Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.
“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”
His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered. 
“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”
The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening. 
After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you. 
“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin. 
Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”
The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart. 
“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.
“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”
You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.
“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him. 
You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.
“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?” 
Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off. 
You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing. 
Almost. 
"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”
Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything. 
"Please—" you whispered.
"Please who?" 
Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate. 
"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily. 
He grinned. 
“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”
Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit. 
Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were. 
Underneath a giant mirror. 
The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-
And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction. 
It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life. 
Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face. 
Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core. 
“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”
The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart. 
The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—
You shattered. 
And the force of it nearly bent your back in half. 
Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face. 
The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high. 
Then he was kissing you again. 
It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.
You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more. 
Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure. 
“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.
You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space. 
He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency. 
It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.
“Of course,” you muttered. 
The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.
“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”
“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” 
“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft. 
After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching. 
“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered. 
You gasped against him and he smiled. 
“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”
You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him. 
“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?” 
His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper. 
“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”
Your mouth actually watered with anticipation. 
The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you. 
Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response. 
After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward. 
“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”
His praise was addictive. 
You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him. 
It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it. 
Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—
Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss. 
Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.
“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal. 
The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response. 
“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”
You did. 
You wanted it so so bad. 
“Please.”
Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance. 
“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”
“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”
He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him. 
Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust. 
There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm. 
Then your world caught fire. 
Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes. 
Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—
Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name. 
The feel of him was indescribable. 
You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality. 
He was bloomin’ magnificent. 
Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal. 
“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”
“Yes—”
Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.
He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close. 
You were his. 
And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more. 
Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.
He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—
This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors. 
And now… he couldn’t look away. 
The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.
Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass. 
“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”
Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness. 
“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.
“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind. 
The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it. 
Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound. 
Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen. 
He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.   
“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.” 
Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed. 
“Tae! Ah-ahh!”
The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—
“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”
Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.
And then you flew apart. 
Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed. 
“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”
“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust. 
“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”
“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed. 
“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him. 
Then he met your gaze in the mirror again. 
“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.” 
The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.
“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else. 
His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision. 
"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”
The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped. 
He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release. 
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“KIM TAEHYUNG!”
The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.  
His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—
The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash. 
“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”
Then he frowned. 
“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”
Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin. 
“Kendra.”
Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—
And insanely gorgeous. 
Taehyung groaned. 
Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance. 
To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.
KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion. 
One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass. 
“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”
“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”
“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”
“I’ll kill you.”
“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin. 
“Why should I wait?!”
“Because—”
“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”
“The situation is just not that simple.” 
“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”
“Admittedly not my finest hour.”
“So you tell me right now—”
“But you don’t understand it’s—”
“—Why the hell would I wait?!”
“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”
For a moment there was absolute silence. 
Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding. 
“Really?”
Jimin’s mouth fell open. 
Taehyung groaned again. 
“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.
“Are you really in love with me?”
“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!” 
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked. 
“That’s not the same thing!”
“It is for me!”
A radiant smile lit up your face. 
“I’m in love with you too.”
Taehyung’s expression softened. 
“Angel I—”
Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.
“Oh! No no no—Come on!”
He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. 
“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 
Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling. 
“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”
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Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. 
This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day. 
If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.
I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.
6K notes · View notes
asteriismos · 4 years
Text
get lucky - richie tozier
warning(s) : innapropriate relationship, stepbrother! richie tozier, hate sex, smut, richie being an annoying stepbrother, college! losers, for some reason all the losers are in california i dont know 
words : 3.6k
request(s) :
If you don’t have anything against step-bro fics can I pls request stepbro Richie smut that ends with them getting caught😳👀
hate sex smut imagine with richie pleaseee?🥺🤧
you hated how much your mother was in love with wentworth tozier. and you hated it so much that you were dreading summer break, because over winter break the two of them had gotten married and it was the first fucking time you even met the man. wentworth was a dentist, which was oh so evident by the way that he literally stared at your teeth the second he greeted you, but he seemed nice enough. 
even though you met him the night before they were tying the knot in their relationship. your mother has never been the best with giving you information on her life, which you didn’t really mind considering you were off in college worrying about college things. 
but the worst thing about your mothers marriage to wentworth was not the fact that her last name was now tozier ( which you questioned was even a real last name or not ) or the fact that now you had to get to know an older man that wasn’t your dad. it came in the form of your new stepbrother, richie tozier. 
if there was one nice thing you could say about richie ( and trust me, for you that was hard ), it was that he could be funny. key word ‘could’. but it wasn’t funny when he would pick at every single thing that you did, constantly teased you for all the little things. it pissed you off more than you could even explain. you swore that you were so close to punching him in the face at the little reception after the tiny wedding, when he kept pushing your buttons for no goddamn reason.
you’re such a prude y/n!
do you ever stop complaining?
richie had already drove you up the fucking walls after one night of being graced with his presence, and you had absolutely no idea how you were going to handle an entire summer with him. 
you lived in california, you had all your life. so it was natural for you to apply to colleges there or around there, not that money was really an issue because your mother worked for a very large law firm and made a lot of money. that’s why you were able to stay at the dorms for school, not seeing your mother except for when you were there for holidays. your childhome was big, but it now felt considerably small now that your new family members moved in. 
it seemed like everywhere you went in your house, richie ended up there, talking to you and breaking the peace between you two constantly. 
that’s why you made it your mission to avoid him as much as possible. you had dealt with boys like this before, if you just didn’t give them any attention, they would get bored and go off to do different things. 
except richie didn’t seem to be getting the memo, the lack of attention made him just seek out for it even more than before. 
 today was one of those instances, where you were sitting out by the side of the pool alone. your mother and wentworth were in one of the rooms upstairs painting it to make it a new office space for her. the color was some ugly green color and when wentworth asked if you wanted to help, you shook your head and said pass. sunbathing sounded better than trying to get along with your new family. 
your eyes scanned over the words of your book. you had promised your friend ( who was an english major ) that you’d read it, even though it was a little weird. it was lolita by vladimir nabokov, about some guy who fell in love with a younger girl. 
“an erotic novel, nice.”
you glanced up from your book to be met with richie, eyes through his glasses staring right at yours. they trailed down to your lips, and then down farther, but he quickly composed himself and looked instead at the book, motioning to it. 
you scoffed. “not really. it’s honestly weird as hell.” your eyes went back to reading the words, hoping that he would get the memo that you didn’t want to talk to him and he would go away. 
but he didn’t, or at least if he did he dismissed it, pulling off his shirt and setting it down on the beach chair next to yours. from behind your sunglasses, you watched him strip down into just his swim trunks, thanking god that the sunglasses shielded your eyes from his vision. he couldn’t see that you were borderline checking him out. 
it was wrong. you were convinced that there was a special place in hell for people who thought that their step siblings were hot, but nonetheless you still did it anyways. 
now he was talking, but because of your staring you didn’t catch the first part of what he was saying. richie’s mouth was moving and all you were thinking about were his lips trailing down . . .
“ . . . if you wanted to go with me?” richie finished, giving you a confused look when all you gave back was a blank stare. your brain tried to figure out what he had said before you tuned in, or try and make up an excuse about why you weren’t listening. you figured that telling the truth about you checking him out and thinking about him eating you out for hours. 
you pushed your sunglasses up to your voice and squinted at him, “what’d you say?”
richie gave you yet another confused look, shaking his head and saying, “i asked if you wanted to go to this frat party that me and some of my friends are going to.”
“why would i do that with you?”
richie laughed. “i literally just explained that. did you go braindead for a whole minute? my dad and your mom want to have a night to themselves tonight at the house and want us gone. do i need to elaborate or can you read through the lines?”
you cringed outwardly and inwardly, shaking your head. “no, i get it. gross, okay yeah fine whatever i’ll go.” you’d do whatever you needed to do to get out of the house to not have to deal with whatever your parents got up to.
-
the music blared loudly in your ears as you walked into the rather large frat house. you looked around at the people in the entrance way, seeing that there was a mixture of boys and girls, and definitely a lot of people here. it would be hard to keep track of everyone in the group that you came with. 
richie picked up three other people that apparently have been his friends since childhood. you felt incredibly out of place as they all talked to each other in the car, you kept your arms crossed in front of your chest and basically pouted in the passengers seat of your stepbrothers car. even though you had agreed to go to this thing, you were still mad that you were going with richie. or were you?
“can you at least try not to act like such a prude while we’re here? jesus y/n you look like someone killed your cat,” richie said, jokingly poking the small of your back. you yelped, jumping forward and glaring at him. 
you felt a hand on your shoulder. “hey! lay off richie, god.” his friend beverly, who had firey red hair and seemed to be the only girl in their little group, said. she pulled you close to her by the side and gave you a kind smile. “don’t let him get under your skin, y/n, if you can believe it, he teases the people he loves.” 
“no thanks,” you joked, walking beside her with the rest of the group following to the kitchen to get drinks. you took one of the red solo cups and took a sip of the concoction in there. it tasted like strong beer, maybe a hint of vodka? it was all masked with a cherry aftertaste. it surprisingly wasn’t bad for something made at a frat. 
they all followed suit, one of the members of your tiny group ( who’s name you learned to be stanley ) cringed after just one sip of the drink. you couldn’t help but laugh, giving him a cocky smile. “can’t hold your alcohol stanley?”
richie pushed into your line of vision, “no, he’s just a wuss.” stanley squinted at your stepbrother and pushed him in the shoulder lightly. “am not, beep beep richie.” 
you cocked your head to the side in confusion at the saying. beverly, stan, and mike all just laughed. richie did not, instead he huffed and stood there like a pouty child. the saying seemed to shut him up, maybe you’d have to use that on richie so he would shut the fuck up once in a while when he was annoying you. 
the party raged on, more and more people started to pour their way into the large house. you found a place on the dancefloor with beverly, dancing with her to the loud upbeat music that played. every once in a while mike would come over and dance with you two and you would smile and laugh with your newfound friends. richie would come over once in a while, make some snarky comment your way, then leave. 
the one person who you haven’t danced with is stanley, who was standing on the outskirts of the party. he sipped at his drink idly and ran a hand through his curls. from time to time a girl would come over to him, and he would pass them up, 
it intrigued you. 
you walked over to stanley and gave him a smile, looking around at the crowd and pointing at richie. “so why do you guys say beep beep richie?”
stan laughed, taking a sip of his drink. the smell of alcohol became that much more prevalent as some coated his lips. “when we were younger and richie would talk too much, we would all go ‘beep beep richie’ to get him to shut up. we don’t use it as much anymore because we grew out of it. but it works from time to time.”
you nodded, smirking. looking around the room, your eyes caught richie, chatting up some girl. from time to time his eyes would look across the room at you. and when he saw that you were talking to stan, he squinted through his bottle cap glasses. sticking your tongue out at him, you turned your attention back to stan. 
“do you wanna dance?”
and he didn’t get the chance to say no, because you were already pulling him out into the crowd of people dancing. you took his drink from his hand and set it down, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
you both rocked to the music, hips swaying to the beat. you turned around so that your back was facing him and reached behind you to grab his hands, putting them on your lower waist. then you made eye contact with richie, who was basically staring you down at this point, and grinded your ass into stans hips. 
you heard a gasp from behind you that was no doubt stan, but both of you were too intoxicated to really think anything of it. he instead moved his hips against you, hands running up and down your body. your eyes never left richies, watching him completely drop his drink onto the girls’ shoes he was talking to. then he was walking closer and closer to you, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you slightly away from stan. 
“what the fuck are you doing?” richie asked you, his eyes dark with anger. he looked genuinely upset, and to be honest he had no right to be. he wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t even really your brother. so if he was trying to play some sort of ‘overprotective act’ it wasn’t working. 
you just gave him a little smile. “just dancing with stan,” you slurred. “jealous much?”
richie didn’t answer, only laughing a little bit at how drunk you actually were. he gave stan a look and shrugged his shoulders, “she’s really drunk, sorry. i should get her home. can you guys find a ride?”
the rest of the night is blank in your memory. 
-
you woke up to the sound of dishes clanking downstairs in the kitchen, causing you to groan once your eyes were opening. the very obvious hangover that you were experiencing was hard not to feel.
still dressed in last nights clothes, you tried to recal what had happened last night to get you this drunk. all you could remember was drinking some kind of random drink from the party and dancing with richie’s friend stan. the rest was pretty fuzzy. 
eventually you made your way downstairs, seeing that it was richie who made the noise in the kitchen. no one was in sight. you looked at the clock and it read that it was 2 in the afternoon. some night it must’ve been.
“good morning, here’s some asprin,” richie said to you, passing over the small bottle across the kitchen counter. 
you nodded a thank you and reached to grab a glass of water. “where’s my mom?”
“beach day,” richie replied, shrugging his shoulders. “so are you and stan like a thing? because i did not see that coming.”
you groaned, “do you have to talk so much? I just woke up and i don’t need you blabbering. and so what if i like stan or not, it’s not like you’re the one to control me.”
“yes I am.”
you scoffed, actually laughing at what he had said just a second ago. he thinks he can control you? as if. 
“you’re a fucking dick richie. i’m sorry you’re jealous of me dancing with stan last night. sorry you didn’t get your dick wet because of me,” you said, taking the glass of water up to your room and giving him no more of your attention.
as soon as you closed the door and set the water down, you heard the door to the room open and close again. “jesus fucking christ rich, get over it. you’re an asshole.”
“you’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” richie said to you, pushing you onto your bed and immediately coming in between your legs. his hot breath fanned your face, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips and trailing down your neck. 
teeth bit into your sensitive skin, breaking the blood capulets on your neck and creating purple splotchy marks all along it. you moaned out at the feeling, pushing your hips against his hips in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure that was falling in between your legs. 
he laughed along your skin. “needy. all for me? for your stepbrother? don’t you think that’s a little wrong, y/n?” he kissed all the way back up to your lips, your bottom lip coming in between his teeth. 
he pulled it away and let go, letting it snap back against your mouth. you whined, hands flying to the black tufts of hair on his head. richie kissed you, stifling any more whiney noises you made. 
his hands came down and pushed the end of your shirt up just enough to expose your breasts. the cold air brushed against them and you shuttered. richie palmed at them, still kissing you. his hands were big enough to fit all around your breasts, and his thumb came to pinch your nipple. 
you yelped, pulling away from him and staring daggers at him. “that hurt.” but you fed into his touch, your own body going against your mind. you involuntarily pressed your chest against his hand. 
he only chuckled, giving you that classic richie grin. 
“doesn’t look like you mind much, sweets,” he said, one of his hands going down and slipping underneath the fabric of your pants. 
richie’s fingers grazed along your clothed clit, a smirk growing on his face when his fingertips pressed harshly on the wet spot that was in them. instead of teasing you like he usually would’ve, he just hooked the fabric away, sliding his finger along your slit. 
you moaned at the contact, pulling his hair with a force that probably hurt. he didn’t seem to mind, giving his own moan while pushing one singular finger into you. 
his finger curled up in a come here motion and you almost screamed, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of knowing he had such an effect over you. he could see through your bullshit quite clearly, pushing another two fingers into you and not moving. 
richie had three fingers in you that he wasn’t moving, watching you squirm against his hand to create some kind of pleasure. but with his other hand he held your hips down, keeping you from moving at all. 
“i want to hear you beg for it.”
“for fucks sake, richie,” you said, eyes opening to look at him. 
his chest pressed against your own as he leaned in, “beg. or i’ll leave you to finger fuck yourself.”
for a moment you thought that you weren’t going to do it, mostly because of your pride and ego. the pleasure that awaited you took over though and you opened your mouth to say, “please richie. fuck me with your fingers. stretch me out. i need you.” your cheeks burned in embarrassment at your words, knowing that he would never let you live that down. 
“good girl.”
he spared not a moment more, fingers setting at an unbelievably fast pace as they pumped in and out of you. his thumb massaged figure eights on your clit and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. 
for some reason the thought of richie being your stepbrother was hotter, and made you almost even more wet. your arousal slicked the inside of your thighs while he kept his pace. 
your head arched back, feeling him hit your g spot every single time his fingers fucked into you. 
soon enough you were cumming, opening your eyes and seeing blurry vision. richie kept pumping his fingers, mouth finding home on your breasts to give you more hickies there. you didn’t know how you were going to be able to hide all of them. that fucker. 
you took a minute to catch your breath and for that moment richie wasn’t touching you at all, which made you miss his touch more than you were willing to admit. you heard the sound of pants unzipping and soon enough richie was in between your legs, this time his cock in his hands as he pumped lazily. you took no time to push your pants and panties down onto the floor.
you gave him a look when he aligned in your enterance. he was thick, which now made sense as to why he fucked you with three fingers, even though he was still way bigger than the width of three fingers. 
all you could think about was him filling you up and fucking you until you saw stars. 
richie pushed into you, groaning at the feeling of you around him, tight and wet. he couldn’t believe that he took this long to fuck you. but now all that pent up tension was coming up right now, richie was already so wound up from hearing you beg for him. 
once he bottomed out, he pulled out, pushing back in. you hissed at the feeling, not all the way used to the feeling of him stretching you out but loving it anyways. he buried himself into you like he owned you and you loved it. 
his hands came to your hips and thrusted in and out with such force that your whole body moved with every single rut into you. he shed no mercy, hitting that one spot every single time mercilessly. 
your hands fumbled to touch him, anywhere you possibly could. eventually you made your way to his back, fingernails digging into his skin enough to probably draw blood. you scratched up and down, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 
your breasts bounced up and down with every thrust, the shirt pushed all the way up to your neck was getting soaked with your own sweat. the heat in the room was almost unbearable, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
he grabbed your thigh and hoisted it up, moaning at the new angle that he hit within you. your eyes teared up with the pleasure that coursed through you, once again about to hit that brink once again. you were already pretty sensitive from the previous orgasm. 
“richie, i’m going to cum,” you moaned out. 
“I know baby, let it out for me,” he responded, hand falling down to your clit. 
that sent you over with a scream, the coil that had been winding in you finally snapped, sending you over the edge flying. 
with his thrusts helping you ride your orgasm out, you felt completely fucked out. mind blank, legs starting to hurt from the angle he was holding them in. soon his thrusts faltered and he was cumming, hot liquid shooting through you. he pulled out and gave you a goofy look, pulling up his boxers and searching for his pants on the floor. 
you closed your legs, feeling some of his cum fall down into your thighs. you pulled your shirt back down and put your panties on. 
right as you were about to say something, your door opened. 
it was your mom and wentworth, looking at both of you with shock in their eyes. 
oh fuck. 
“you two,” your mother said, almost too angry to speak. “have a lot of explaining to do.”
217 notes · View notes
tomthesoftie · 4 years
Text
admitting pt.1
a/n: this was so much longer than i planned it to be 1234 words... i’m gonna make a part two for this because i’m too tired to finish the of this fic right now it’s 2:30 am... ok enjoy
pairing: enemies to lovers!tom x reader
warnings: one bad word, lil’ pinch of angst not really, fluff, Tom falling in love
masterlist
As much as you hated Tom, your family were still friends with his. Your parents trusted Nikki and Dom with all their heart.
You and Tom never got along. Ever since you were children, you fought and annoyed one another to no extent. The reason was unknown to why you two acted this way.
Your parents were going out of town for their business trip and left you with the family they trusted most: the Hollands.
After hours on end, you finally agreed to stay over at theirs, hoping Tom wouldn’t be there due to his current fame.
“C’mon, Y/N, we’ve got to get going,” your mom called from the kitchen.
Groaning, you dragged yourself out of your room, “Fine.”
Your family lived right across the street from the Hollands, making the transfer easy and fast.
“Afternoon, Y/M/N,” Nikki said embracing my mother before looking at me, “Y/N, I haven’t seen you in such a long time,” it was true, you’d always avoided going to the Holland household, even if it were a stupid excuse. Admiring your figure, she commented, “You look so mature and gorgeous now.”
“Thank you,” you finally said, giving her a warm smile.
“Now, Y/N, you better behave, this isn’t your home. Don’t disobey their rules, okay?” Your mom gave you a stern look.
“Yeah, I know,” you said, crossing your arms.
“You better get going, Y/M/N. Wouldn’t want you to be late,” Nikki said realizing what the time was.
“Oh my, yes I should. Thank you so much for letting Y/N stay over,” she gave Nikki a final hug, “and you better behave,” she pointed a finger at me before giving me a kiss on my cheek and rushing back to the car.
“Thank you for letting me stay over, Mrs. Holland. It means a lot to me and my parents,” you were truly grateful for their generosity even though you hated their son.
“Oh, it’s no problem. Also, you can call me Nikki,” she winked, giggling. She then called down one of her sons, “Harry, come help Y/N to her room and carry her bag up the stairs, will you?”
She patted you on the back one last time before leaving you alone, standing awkwardly at the bottom of the staircase. Luckily, you didn’t have to stand there long, for the curly haired boy came down the stairs not long after.
“Harry,” you embraced the boy.
The two of you were friends being that you were in the same grade.
“Y/N/N, how are you doing?” Harry asked.
“Stop with the formalities, we literally saw each other yesterday,” you said playfully smacking his arm.
He chuckled, “Just trying to be my best. Now, let’s get you to your room.”
He grabbed your small, white suitcase and lugged it up the stairs, leading you to the room you’d be staying in for the next couple of days.
“Voila, welcome to your room,” he opened the door to the guest bedroom, revealing a well decorated, yet comforting room. “I’ll leave you to unpack. When you’re done, you can join Paddy and I in the living room. We’re going to be playing Super Smash Bros.”
“Definitely,” you smiled, taking up on his offer, “I won’t be long.”
Unpacking and getting the feel of the room took about 10 minutes. The view of the backyard was magnificent from this room. You could see the garden, fireplace, and pool from your window. The bed was queen-sized and tucked with a basic grey duvet. There were decorative lamps on the bedside tables, including a clock and other decorations.
You rushed down the stairs, remembering Harry’s offer. They were sitting on the couch, practically jumping when they made their attack. 
“Hey, Padster,” you said, ruffling his hair as you sat in the cream colored arm chair. 
“Hey, Y/N, wanna join?” He asked pausing the game, halting Harry’s attack.
“Hey!” Harry complained.
“Nah, I’ll let you finish this round against Harry,” you lightly declined.
“Alright,” Harry cheered, “no offense.”
You laughed, “None taken.”
After sitting in the seat and watching the two boys bicker over the game, you decided to get yourself a glass of water. 
“Hey, Y/N, are you enjoying your stay?” Nikki asked, seeing you enter the room.
“Of course, just feeling a bit parched,” you said, hoping she caught onto your desperation for water.
“Oh, yes. Here,” she handed you a bottle of water, letting you go back to the boys as soon as possible.
Just as you sat back into the seat, the door opened, revealing the brown, curly haired, muscular boy you despised. A warm smile spread across his face before meeting your eyes.
“Y/N?” Tom was shocked. 
He hadn’t seen you in 2 years. He left to go filming and would occasionally visit home, but he never saw you. He gawked at your newfound beauty. You were practically glowing. You had curves in all the right places and a beautiful complexion. 
“What’s up, Spideyboy,” you laughed at the teasing nickname.
“What are you doing here?” He had already shut the door behind him and sat himself in the seat next to yours. 
“Parents are on a business trip,” you answered nonchalantly.
“Oh,” his feeble attempt to start a conversation completely failing, seeing as you gave no thought to it.
Getting bored, you asked if you could play with Harry and Paddy, and they gladly accepted. You were rusty, but your skill was still good enough to destroy the two boys. They had even teamed up to go against you.
“Damn, Y/N/N, didn’t know you were that good at Smash Bros,” Harry sighed.
“Neither did I,” you laughed as the boys, except for Tom, joined in.
Tom was too busy admiring you. He noticed how you changed and matured, not just in looks, but in knowledge and age. He was feeling an attraction towards you and he wouldn’t admit it.
“Dinner time, kids,” Nikki called out from the kitchen.
You guys shut down the game and rushed into the dining room. The aroma lurked through the entire house and you inhaled it freely. The dinner smelled delicious.
You sat across from Harry, who sat next to Paddy, who sat across from Tom.
Just as you presumed, the dinner was scrumptious. You thanked Nikki and Dom for the wonderful meal and excused yourself, going to wash the dirty dishes you had used.
“No need to do that, darling,” Nikki’s voice appeared behind you, startling you a bit. “Go have fun with the boys, you’re our guest.”
You thanked her once again, escorting yourself to the patio, where the boys had relocated to look at the dazzling stars in the navy blue sky. They laid in a line, leaving a space in between Harry and Tom for you. 
“Come,” Harry said patting the space beside him, “it’s beautiful.”
You slipped down, laying with your arms under your head. They truly were beautiful. You could get lost staring into the vast sea of stars and planets. 
You faintly felt muscular arms scooping you off the grass and carrying you back into the warm comforts of the Holland home. You snuggled yourself into the hard chest of the person, feeling relaxed and sleep was slowly overcoming you. 
Tom gently placed you onto your bed, tucking you into the thick sheets of the bed, “Goodnight, Y/N,” he said gently, kissing your forehead gently before exiting the room.
! next part !
236 notes · View notes
kbstories · 4 years
Text
impression//expression
"It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.
It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone."
(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)
Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Post-Kamino Arc, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Kiri Has A Dog Because I Said So
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Content warning for anxiety attacks and discussions thereof. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.
***
Kirishima comes to sunlight shining on his face and an armful of Bakugou.
It’s not a sudden jolt of consciousness that alerts him of this. His brain comes online one synapse at a time with how all-around cozy he is, bundled up in comfortably warm covers with Bakugou’s head nestled in the crook of his neck, his arm wrapped loosely around Kirishima’s waist. In actuality, Kirishima slept so well it’s legitimately hard to get himself to wake up beyond lazily squinting an eye against that bright glare.
Which is why his first move is to pull the blanket up higher and snuggle closer to his Bakugou-shaped pillow. Bakugou, for his part, breathes something between a mumble and a sigh and slumbers on.
Out like a light. He’s onto something there, Kirishima muses. For a while, he lets himself drift to the calm two-step beat of Bakugou’s heart keeping time against his chest, the gentle tickle of Bakugou’s hair under his chin. Blissful oblivion nips at the edges of his mind; his body can’t quite get there, though, that pesky bit of awareness clinging to existence despite his best efforts.
Urgh, fine.
Kirishima blinks with a little more purpose behind it. His vision is blurred from overall drowsiness and the murky half-dark the blanket provides. Bakugou is easy to make out regardless, face slack and close enough Kirishima can see the minute shift of blonde lashes as he snoozes. It’s the residue redness around his eyes that nudges Kirishima’s brain to wonder and think and remember–
Blue fire. Unread texts. The hospital, Kamino Ward, All Might. Bakugou.
All at once, the sight of Bakugou passed out in his arms is anything but a peaceful one. It’s intimate in a way Kirishima suddenly feels uncomfortable with, not because he doesn’t like it – in his educated opinion, any day starting with cuddling is good by default – but because Bakugou is the least touch-y person he knows and this is crossing so many lines. All the lines.
Lines drawn by unspoken rules and implicit understandings Kirishima learned by sheer trial and error. All those other times Bakugou let his guard down around him seem like peanuts compared to this.
But… Bakugou is resting. Catching up on untold amounts of missed sleep, looking far more relaxed than Kirishima could’ve hoped for. Perhaps it would’ve been better to ensure he makes it to his own bed instead of sharing the pull-out couch; perhaps Kirishima shouldn’t have pushed when things are so fresh. Kirishima’s hands ache to move from between Bakugou’s shoulders yet letting him go feels wrong, too.
It was far too easy, last time. To sit there and bicker in class while Bakugou faded from view, mere miles away.
The dread roiling within him is familiar, as are the maybes and what-ifs that accompany it. It returns like an old friend, the thought of losing him to people who mistake his violence for villainy, who disregard the good shining at Bakugou’s very core in favor of the hurt his hands can cause. The brightest star in the sky, burning, desperate to be seen, to be acknowledged.
It makes Kirishima restless, this feeling – like the air is growing thin and the ground is about to collapse beneath their feet, and it’s up to Kirishima to get them out of there. His blood thrums with the need to fight tooth and nail to keep whatever is causing it away, to shield Bakugou until the shaking stops and the debris settles.
Kirishima has failed Bakugou once already. Not again, never again–
“Think any harder an’ your brain’s gonna melt.”
Kirishima’s heart nearly stops, then jumps into overdrive. A hesitant glance proves that, yup, that’s Bakugou stirring, right there. Bleary-eyed and still far too soft around the edges but awake. Kirishima isn’t ready for this.
He’s also dead. Super dead. Buried-so-deep-nobody-will-ever-find-his-body dead.
He swallows, any sort of greeting escaping his mind except a quiet, “Oh.”
Bakugou yawns and rubs at his eye, a gesture made clumsy with sleepiness. “Mm?” He props himself up, a hand laid flat on Kirishima’s chest. “Calm down, will ya? Your heart’s goin’ like crazy.”
There are no words to describe how impossible that is right now. “Um”, Kirishima says intelligently, and: “Sorry.” A little sheepish, since he can’t exactly help what his heart does (or his brain, for that matter).
He is on the verge of panicking, Kirishima notes dimly. That realization alone does little to chase away the half-formulated doubts threatening to choke him, that inkling of fear that’s on the brink of spiraling out of control. A moment later, he has to consciously unclench his hardened hands from the back of Bakugou’s shirt, which–
Ah. That’s what woke him up.
“Shit. S-sorry, I–”
There’s a frown on Bakugou’s face as he sits up. “Nothing’s goin’ on”, he tells him, calm where Kirishima can’t be. “’s just my room.” Just as deliberate, the covers are pushed aside to allow cool air to flow into their private niche of the world. Everything’s so bright, so–
“Kiri? Hey. Give me your hands.”
It takes considerable effort to focus on Bakugou’s voice. “Whuh?”
“Your hands. Like this.”
Bakugou holds out his own, palm-up. Kirishima does the same, staring blankly at his trembling, rock-hewn fingers. When Bakugou holds his palm, it’s with a touch Kirishima can barely feel. “Focus on this”, a low murmur followed by pressure to the meat of Kirishima’s thumb, faint despite the bones in Bakugou’s wrist showing from the effort. Bakugou slides it upwards and to the webbing connecting to his index, marginally more giving.
“You’re okay. Just breathe. Focus, right here.”
The touch shifts again, down to his wrist. Kirishima lets him do whatever, watching with a detached sort of fascination as his quirk relents. Bakugou’s thumb brushes over the spot where Kirishima’s veins are becoming visible again, the skin there thin and delicate. He digs in, an inch or two from his hand.
It’s a little rougher than before. Not unpleasant, just unexpected, and Kirishima’s fingers twitch. Bakugou’s lips press together. He does it again, notably gentler. “You with me?”
Kirishima hums. The question registers a moment later and he nods for good measure. “Yeah, I– It helps. This.”
“Mh.” Bakugou gestures for his other arm; he starts from his wrist and goes up to his hand this time, eyes on what he’s doing. “Pressure points are useful shit. You got one here”, a pinch to that spot between thumb and index, “and here”, a tap to his wrist. “Works best if it’s someone else doing it but you can, too.”
That sounds vaguely familiar. Perhaps something that came up the last time he googled it? Panic attacks used to be much more of an thing for Kirishima – before he hair-dyed and bench-pressed Red Riot into something more real, more than a distant daydream. More than a scared kid with shitty self-esteem.
(Life’s been manageable, since. Chaotic and distressing in a host of other ways as it swings back and forth between joy and disaster like fate’s cruelest pendulum and actually, it might be a bit of a miracle it took this long for his anxiety to make a comeback.)
Memorizing any new info is beyond Kirishima right now; he strong-arms his braincells to hold onto the term ‘pressure point’, at least. And if Bakugou is sharing, Kirishima figures it’s only fair to share back.
“The one I know is like, deep breathing? And, um. Talking through it. Counting things you can sense. What you see, hear, smell, and so on. It’s just…”
“Hard to do that by yourself, yeah.”
By this point, Bakugou is just brushing his thumb along the lines on Kirishima’s palm and that feels really nice, too. The image of his hands clawing up worn fabric is hard to shake off, though, making Kirishima’s stomach churn with guilt.
“Sorry, man. For waking you up, I mean. And freaking out on you. I didn’t hurt you, right? You’d tell me if I hurt you.”
It’s meant to come out with confidence, because Kirishima trusts Bakugou. It’s trusting himself that's the problem, sometimes.
A groan, long-suffering. “How many times…” Bakugou gives him a look caught between annoyance and fondness. “Kiri. First off, after yesterday, I have no fucking room to complain when it comes to– That. It happens, it sucks, it’s fine. It’s not your fault or whatever. Secondly–”
Kirishima almost chuckles at how pointed that one word is. He shelves the comment on his tongue for after the Bakugou Lecture he’s being treated to.
“I fell asleep on you. Which, my bad but also fuck you, I was tired and some fucking sap wanted to talk feelings at screw-this-AM. There’re no… scratches or anything, and you make an okay pillow for being a literal rock. So, we’re even.”
Kirishima does laugh at that. “I’m not a rock! Get your facts straight, bro.”
“And thirdly”, Bakugou continues with a smirk, “I just turned your hands into bombs, you dumb fucking rock. Either you let me spark it off you or I’m kicking you out to wash it off before that shit goes boom.”
“Spark off?” Head tilting, Kirishima looks at his hands. He doesn’t see anything but if Bakugou says there’s nitro, there’s definitely nitro. “Wait, is that what you do when you…?”
The gesture Bakugou does to let rapid-fire explosions flicker in his palms is easily copied, Kirishima has seen him do it countless times. The other rolls his eyes.
“Yeah. I got tired of getting it all over the place and wearing gloves twenty-four-seven is uncomfortable as fuck, I tried. Plus, burning shit is fun.”
Huh. Kirishima holds out his hands once more, a swift grin on his lips. “Sounds cool. One sparking off, please!”
Bakugou slaps them away immediately. “Use your quirk, dipshit. Or d’you actually wanna get ‘em blown to pieces?”
“Oh. Right.”
Everything under Kirishima’s elbow hardens in an instant. This time, Bakugou huffs under his breath and takes them between his palms. “Here goes.”
A flash, the familiar crackle of firecracker explosions – Kirishima braced himself for it to hurt a little despite Bakugou’s insane control over his quirk, and he does feel it. It tickles, mostly, the sensation of tiny bursts of heat rolling from his fingertips to his wrist a strangely soothing one.
Bakugou looks over his hands when he’s done, the tightness between his brows easing. Then he glances up to Kirishima’s face and sees the smile that’s broad enough to make his cheeks ache. The frown comes back tenfold.
“No.”
“Dude, yes. Do that again.”
“Nope. Fuck you, Shitty Hair, no.”
“You said it’s fun two seconds ago! Checkmate, I win.”
“Kirishima.”
Kirishima snickers until Bakugou’s palm presses against his cheek. It’s basically second nature to harden in time for the explosion to go by harmlessly and oh, this is so going to become a thing.
“It’s a thing now”, he informs Bakugou. “Can it be like our handshake? We totally need a handshake. What kind of besties are we withou–” A gasp. “Oh, oh, we can do the thing after training, too! I won’t even need to wash my hands. It’s fun and useful.”
Bakugou’s face twists. “What the hell? That’s fucking disgusting.” In one fluid movement, he’s out of their blanket nest and stomping off the couch. It would be intimidating… if not for his wrinkled shirt and sleep-mussed hair making it kind of adorable, instead.
“I’m done talking to you.”
“Aww, bro!”
Kirishima crawls half-way over the armrest only to catch a throw pillow – hah! – to the face. Another thud follows, turning out to be Kirishima’s phone tossed from across the room.
“Even mooched off my charger, ugh. You got a million missed messages. Take care of ‘em before your moms call the cops, bro.”
Bakugou's tone is practically drenched in sarcasm but Kirishima doesn’t care, he beams. Bakugou called him his bro and there’re simply no take-backs allowed on a declaration like that.
*
💪🏻 Kirishima Power 💪🏻
Mama K: Honey, are you awake yet? (received 10:10)
Mama K: Your mom and I are ready to come pick you up whenever. (received 11:20)
Mom: also let us know when we can start hunting your teachers for sport (received 11:22)
Mama K: No murder until our son is back, dear. (received 11:22)
Mom: mhmm sure (received 11:23)
aaaa morning!! (sent 11:38)
oh shit it’s almost noon hhhh (sent 11:38)
Mom: language kiddo (received 11:38)
oh crap** sry (sent 11:38)
Mama K: Welcome back! ❤️ (received 11:39)
hey mama ❤️ (sent 11:39)
ok so picking up is good!! we’re eating breakfast rn (sent 11:42)
well more like lunch 🙈 (sent 11:42)
Mama K: Okay! Now or later? (received 11:43)
ah, mitsuki is saying you two should swing by for tea so maybe in an hour? (sent 11:47)
and that the teachers are actually coming here?? later?? idk why tho (sent 11:48)
aside from, y’know (sent 11:48)
Mama K: Yeah 🙁 (received 11:50)
Mom: how’s katsuki holding up? (received 11:50)
umm ok. kinda. he looks tired as heck tbh and i’m not sure how happy he is about the teacher thing (sent 11:55)
it’s all a bit oof (sent 11:56)
Mom: hmm. anything we can do to help? (received 12:01)
def give him his space (sent 12:03)
and maybe don’t kill aizawa @Mom looking at u haha (sent 12:03)
Mom: bummer (received 12:06)
actually… one more thing? 👀 (sent 12:10)
Mama K: You want us to bring the big guns, huh? (received 12:12)
*
After the hellos and introductions and obligatory fussing over Kirishima – Mama gives him her usual forehead kiss, expertly avoiding his freshly-spiked hair, while Mom wraps him in her patented rib-pulverizing hug – the parents go inside, leaving Bakugou and Kirishima in the yard with…
“Riot.”
Kirishima grins and nods. He heaves the hundred pounds of tail-wagging excitement into a more comfortable position against his chest, big paws coming to rest on his shoulders. “Yeah! Isn’t he the cutest?”
“Your dog is called Riot.”
“Yup!”
Bakugou openly stares at Riot’s drooling smile. After a painfully long pause, he goes: “Okay.”
If all it took to make Bakugou speechless was an Akita with an unexpected (?) name, Kirishima would’ve introduced him to Riot ages ago. As it is, it’s taking all his willpower not to crack up at Bakugou’s expression. It’s like watching one of those ancient Windows computers suffer a system crash so severe even the task manager stops functioning.
Arms full of dog, Kirishima nudges him with his elbow. Reboot initialized. “But?”
Bakugou shakes himself a little. He gestures to Riot, or perhaps to Kirishima, or both? It’s hard to tell. “But… just, like… Why?”
Priceless. Kirishima silently vows to cherish this rarest of blessings in his memories for eternity. It won’t do to rescue Bakugou only to give him an aneurism the very next day. Setting Riot down, Kirishima pats orange-white hair off his borrowed clothes. The Akita immediately trots over to Bakugou to say hi. 
“I got Riot when I was really small, like six-ish? Seven? Something like that.”
Bakugou crouches and holds out his hand for a curious black nose to sniff. Kirishima sits down next to them, watching Riot take a deep whiff and promptly sneeze. Bakugou mutters something about explosives and dumb dog, be careful. Despite the forced casualness on Bakugou’s part, it’s clear he’s not used to being around dogs.
Still, he’s trying. Kirishima’s grin tempers to a soft, close-lipped smile at the sight.
“Back then, I only had a vague idea of who I’d wanna be. As a hero, y’know?” He reaches over to scratch Riot’s favorite spot at the base of his curled tail. It starts wagging immediately. “I was tossing around a few names and somehow Riot stuck. So, I tried it out on him and by the time I realized ‘Yup, that’s the one!’, he didn’t wanna listen to anything else.”
Riot pants at him, mouth wide. Kirishima boops his wet nose. “Yeah, I’m talkin’ about you. Stubborn dog.”
“You’re telling me your hero name got stolen”, Bakugou summarizes drily. “By a dog. When you were six.”
Figures that’s what Bakugou would get out of this. Kirishima snorts and shrugs.
“I guess? Riot – the hero, not the dog – existed way before the whole ‘Red’ stuff came along, ‘cause like… Crimson was out there, I knew he existed, but his philosophy was a bit beyond me. He wasn’t my hero yet, you feel me?”
Bakugou hums. “You weren’t a hero nerd yet. Just a space nerd.”
That startles a laugh out of Kirishima. He knocks his shoulder against Bakugou’s. “Exactly! See, you get me.”
“Shut up, nerd”, comes the predictable reply with a rougher knock back.
Eventually, Bakugou joins him in the grass, his knees propped up and elbows resting on them. Riot makes himself comfortable as well, sprawling on his side with his head resting on Bakugou’s thigh. The full might of pleading canine eyes look upwards. Bakugou squints. “The fuck.”
“He wants scritches”, Kirishima translates readily.
A beat, then Bakugou carefully rubs the knuckles of his index and middle finger in-between the white spots on Riot’s face. Riot huffs a content sigh and melts into the gentle touch.
“Hm. He’s soft.”
“Right? As a puppy, he was the softest and tiniest thing you can imagine. Wait, I might have pics on my phone. Gimme a sec.”
A bit of searching, and Kirishima taps on an old photo of him as a kid, pointy teeth flashed in an impossibly big smile as he hugs a chubby ball of brown fluff close to his face. Mama had dug it up from some dusty family album in a bout of nostalgia after Kirishima broke the news he’d been accepted to U.A.
“Behold: Baby Riot.”
Kirishima shows it to Bakugou. Only after Bakugou’s brows rise does he remember he’s probably never seen him with his natural hair color. Whoops.
Studying the photo for a moment, Bakugou continues to pet the adult version of Riot absent-mindedly. “He looks like a potato.”
“Wha–” Kirishima checks the photo to make sure it’s the same one. “Bakugou. It’s a puppy. It’s like, scientifically proven puppies are the one and only road to world peace. Hello? Nobody hates on a puppy, especially this one.”
Whatever face he’s making has Bakugou smirking, eyes sharp under a brow raised in challenge. “It’s got a weird shape and is brown. Potato.”
Kirishima whines. “Why are you like this? Riot, don’t listen to him, man. You’re the best.”
Riot has fallen asleep, oblivious to the outrageous claims being made in his presence. It’s better that way – the good, old boy deserves better than this slander.
Bakugou is looking down to the snoring dog, too, and something about it must soften even a prickly hedgehog heart like his because he sighs and grumbles: “He’s kinda cool. Maybe.”
Gotcha.
Kirishima pumps his fist in sweet, sweet victory. Nobody, not even the eternally grumpy, can resist the Kirishimas’ secret weapon.
*
On the way back home, Kirishima messes around with his camera until he’s managed a half-decent selfie of himself and Riot sharing the backseat of his parents’ car. A brief moment is spent hovering over his chat with Bakugou.
It’s the first time he’s opened it since– Since.
Baku 💣💥
[riot(s).jpg] (sent 16:58)
thanks for hosting me man 🐶 (sent 16:58)
dorm life, here we come!! (sent 16:59)
The tension in Kirishima’s chest is knocked loose as the ticks turn blue without delay, closing the gap to the ones from the lodge like it never existed. It unwinds entirely when, a handful of minutes later, Bakugou replies.
Baku 💣💥
idiot (received 17:05)
see you soon (received 17:05)
>>Chapter 6
24 notes · View notes
aroperyton · 3 years
Text
oh a popular aro experience/feeling?? that i dont relate to (i feel like every arospec person has at least one of those), is the idea that like, nonplatonic relationships inherently being More than platonic relationships to you is inherently wrong+malicious+amatonormative when i like someone nonplatonically not only is there numerous factors/parts of my attraction towards them, but things i do with them OUT OF ATTRACTION that places it above/More Than my platonic relationships both in importance/priority with the ppl i know And in how i feel about them elaborating;
>if im nonplatonically attracted to someone theres a lot that factors in to it, this person just Existing inherently makes me feel good in this and that and this and that way and when they say my name or call me this or say this kind of thing to me it makes me feel this and this and thinking of them makes me wanna be with them more and think of things id wanna do in the future and being with them only intensifies that and makes me seriously try to plan a (albeit short-term) relationship with them, and that is how they make me feel -but with my friends there isn't any of this, there is no deep underlying feeling and devotion and me being Drawn to and appealed by and positive feelings that makes me want to do things with them, because i'm not attracted to them!!!! if i talk to a person and they seem cool i'll talk to them more cause talking to them's nice and That is IT that is the whole story nothing more nothing less!!!!! i describe this as platonic Attachment moreso than Attraction
>when i am nonplatonically attracted to someone, it's BECAUSE i feel all those aforementioned positive things towards them that DIRECTLY leads to - like, is on the same exact path as - wanting to do/doing shit with them! i wanna kiss em Because i'm attracted to them! i wanna wrap my arm around theirs and hold their hand Because i'm attracted to them! i wanna wrap around them in general Because i'm attracted to them! i wanna call them 8a83 and for them to call me whatever Because i'm attracted to them! i wanna do this and that and this and that BECAUSE i think they are hot and/or cute and they make me feel a way that makes me wanna do that stuff!!!! -but when someone is my friend, i do things with them just for the sake of doing stuff! i don't talk to them cause everything they say makes me go awww and wish we could move in together more, i talk to them cause i like hearing what they have to say and what they have to say is good and they're nice to talk to!! if i wanna cuddle them or kiss them on the cheek/forehead/whatever or be with them physically etc etc etc it's because they are and have been a Good Friend, ie They Are And Have Been Consistantly Good At Talking To Me and handling our relationship (ie saying the right things to me at the right time, ie not Saying 'shut up i hate you!!' when i Say 'im sad :(' /exaggerated, but you get the idea) which results in trust and respect and enjoyment of Our Relationship, IE, Us Talking To Eachother.
>so my nonplatonic relationships Usually (KEYWORD USUALLY!! while its not a kind of relationship i have a lot, i Have had nonplatonic relationships where i'd go to certain friends Before i'd go to my partner for some things and i DO disagree with the amatonormative ever-present notion that your partner HAS to come first and your friends will ALWAYS come last) come first because if i lose them or ignore them to Only spend time with my friends when i could spend it with them etc i am not just losing Someone To Talk To i am losing someone who inherently makes me happy and at ease and enjoying them Because They Are Them, and i am losing this and that and this and that thing to do that makes me happy bc im doing it with Them and able to just stew in how much i like them and how attractive they are -but! as stated before! my friendships are essentially just Talking To Someone and doing things to show youre glad theyre there because of how good talking to them is!! and if i lose them then well shit bro i can talk to fucking anyone else!!!!!! they mightve been someone who i could talk to abt a specific thing i couldnt trust with anyone else or maybe they'd talk in a specific way regarding certain things that was really comforting, BUT AGAIN THATS JUST ME BEING SAD OVER NOT TALKING TO THEM NOT BEING SAD OVER HOW I FEEL ABOUT THEM OR NOT BEING ABLE TO EXPRESS MY ATTRACTION VIA WHATEVER NONPLATONIC ACTION
(worth noting i am alloaro so if some of this reads as my nonplatonic relationships kinda railing off the ability to Do Something Out Of my attraction to them and how Attractive they are instead of just being with them and Them and my Ability to Be with them, there uh. ah. theres a reason for that ;>___>) so u might be reading this and going, oh, clove, that sounds like you're aplatonic! and you'd be right! but this is where it hits a wall cause i HAVE experienced platonic Attraction before. i Have been Drawn to and appealed by and, well, Attracted To someone.... out of platonicness. i Have felt a positive and emotional way towards someone that made me want to do things with them not to show appreciation but just out of how much they made me feel and how i felt about them, but in a platonic way! which might read as 'no homo'-y and we were just awkward friends but 'friends' was Not how we described, or not the sole way we'd describe our relationship, because we were More Than Friends*, but we weren't dating or being sexual or anything nonplatonic, but we weren't just friends, but we'd have recurring issues of ppl thinking we Were nonplatonic and that wasn't the case, but it really was way More than any regular friendship at least as far as we knew, but- so we defined that as a qpr and that was the best way to explain it and to this day i still feel like that explains it p solid even if the definitions for it aren't always the same and some aren't what i'd use for that one specifically, which crosses off another definition for aplatonic past 'i have experienced platonic attraction', 'i have had+wanted a qpr', And! that relationship and the way i felt overshadows how not-attracted to my friends i am and how clear cut the definition between 'friend' and 'not-friend [gayly]' is for me! which crosses out the last thing! so i just. feel weird abt it all. bottom line is that i know people aren't saying this shit for No Reason and if i want affirmation of the concept of 'nonplatonic relationships are more than platonic ones' i don't even have to fucking go outside i can just look literally anywhere that isn't wholly and entirely the aro community dedicated to arospec and aro-related discussion...... but i wish people wouldn't act like/imply that since this is how a lot of aro people feel, that this is not only an inherent intrinsic universal arospec experience/feeling, but that anything different directly goes against other aro people, even if the person in question is. also arospec. BUT MAYBE thats just me being hierarchy_polyamory_luvr_500 and not someone who relates to or particularly Wants to specifically aim for relationship anarchy with all my relationships started and maintained by myself, which is a whole nother post, BUT ANYHOO. don't throw affectionate/attraction-ing/partnering/amorous aros under the bus please lol XD
*ik this is kinda a loaded way to describe a relationship/feelings towards someone but wrt this specific relationship, i mean it in the sense of like.
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if this makes sense? it's more than friends, but because it's still platonic feelings, it's just farther along the line of and has more going on than just regular friends, therefore. more than friends+not just friends. but the concept of a nonplatonic 'more than/not just friends' is not lost on me when it's not coming from like, a romance movie, cause -GESTURES AT THE ENTIRE FIRST 3/4THS OF THIS POST-
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drunklander · 4 years
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Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander
Thoughts on Ep. 511
Ok so this episode is like the perfect embodiment of my love/hate relationship with the books. And the show, but since the author wrote it, the books too, and her writing/plotting in general. I hated the other episode she wrote so my expectations going into this were *rull* low.
This episode was like a series of character-driven vignettes, which is what I like most about her writing (and why I bother even sticking around): random scenes here and there that I really enjoy as standalone bits. But, in true Outlander fashion, it also like ticked a lot of the boxes for stuff plot-wise that I can’t stand. Namely, yet more violence against multiple women, Marsali and Fergus getting shortchanged, Lord John crossing just over the creepy line for a sec with Jamie and the situation with Ulysses’ legal status. It didn’t check the rape box, but we may have to revisit that next week. I sure as fuck hope we don’t have to, but seeing as this show never met a rape it didn’t think was ToTaLlY nEcEsSaRy to include... *preemptive sigh*
Show-wise this very much felt like a penultimate episode and in that respect it accomplished what it was supposed to. In the overall arc of the season though, much like when considering the whole book series, a few solid standalone scenes here and there do not equal a good whole. To be in this fandom is to be an expert in eating around the moldy parts of the bread to get a few nibbles of good stuff.
Anywho, SCIENCE!JIZZ 5EVA!
Fuck yeah PB&J, and Claire is forgiven for not mastering fluff yet. But fluffernutters are also a staple in any growing kid’s diet.
Poor burned girl. It’s not her fault she vaguely resembles a walker so I spent the whole time thinking about TWD.
Omfg I got like PTSD flashbacks when I saw that dress in the title card. KILL THAT DRESS WITH FIRE!
There may not be fluffernutters, but Bree and Claire fluff and Young Ian and Jemmy fluff are good substitutes.
This kid is adorbs tho.
They’ve been really blasé about mentioning time travel in front of folks this season. First Marsali and now Young Ian. The latter will be remedied, but I’m still lowkey annoyed that Fergus and Marsali aren’t brought into the circle of trust... Esp. when there was a perfect opportunity for it later on.
I cannot with men, tbh. Seeking justice for a daughter who’s been “dishonored” by killing the dude is like the most overused trope of toxic masculinity ever. And now we’re supposed to be all like oh look how relatable the Brown guy is! Because our tropey men wanted to kill a dude like that last week! Hard pass. Also, fucking his kid wasn’t raped, she loves a guy who happens to be married, but everything was super consensual. Sooo like double gross points for you, dude.
And yes, I know it’s ThE pAsT, but I am not in the past, I am in the present, and the show is airing in the present, so thinking this sort of behavior is gross is totes ok. So the fucked up squad of randos who always jump into my notes about how they like “their men to be men” can just shove it, ok? Ok.
They’re like really not subtle with the foreshadowing this episode are they. But then again, when has subtlety ever been a thing on this show. That’s a nice still you got there, shame if anything were to happen to it...
I’m really digging the decor in this living room.
Oh hey! They finally decided to stop pretending like Young Ian was dumb and didn’t notice literally *gestures* everything about Claire.
I’m still salty they never told Jenny and Ian in S3 tbh.
Shockingly, considering who wrote it, so much of this episode is directly from the books. So I’m sure the Cult of Herself folks will be obsessed. And like yeah, some of the stuff in this episode is some of the bits I really like from the books as individual little scenes. However! I know some in the cult will use this as a reason why the show should StAy TrUe To ThE bOoKs more. And please, for the love of fuck, fight that instinct. Parts of this episode aren’t good “because they’re from the book,” they’re good because they’re emotional moments between characters, which is where both the books and the show are strongest. “Sticking with the book” on everything would make an already not great show even worse. I mean, the show ain’t great, but thank fuck they’ve streamlined the book stuff as much as they have.
Yes, I did notice the Pamela easter egg from the book. No, I’m not one who gets excited about shit like that.
Aaand here we get the problematic af bit about Ulysses and his legal status. In the book, he was offered freedom and turned it down to stay with Jocasta. Which is twelve kinds of fucked up. Here, he *is* a free man and he chooses to stay and cosplay an enslaved person so he can chill with Jocasta? FUCK THAT NOISE. That is some “benevolent slave owner” bullshit. They don’t get overt with the Ulysses and Jocasta are banging stuff from the book, which is also epically fucked up considering the power dynamic and how a fuckton of men enslaved their own fucking kids because they’d raped the mothers and children take the status of the mother. I’m glad they didn’t come right out and say that. But it’s like lowkey implied and even if it’s not supposed to be taken as canon, having a Black man be given the option to get the fuck out of there and choose to stay with someone who enslaves other Black people is like some dangerous white fanfic nonsense.
Also, thinking about the slave/master relationship dynamic today really makes me wish I saw Jeremy O. Harris’ play while it was running...
Oh yay, Bree and Roger are actually leaving. Much like the Bonnet shit, credit where credit’s due, I’m glad they’re not dragging the will they/won’t they go out for another season.
Don’t sound so butthurt that you didn’t get to murder a guy, Jamie.
Poor Young Ian. Buddy needs a hug. And more screentime for his story. Like, do we really need something else traumatic to happen to Claire when we could explore family dynamics instead? This time with Young Ian and his wife and their Mohawk family?
THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER WAYS TO HAVE DRAMA AND CONFLICT THAT CAN TAKE UP THE RUNNING TIME OF A SEASON THAT DON’T INVOLVE CONSTANTLY PUTTING THE WOMEN IN PHYSICAL DANGER.
Lol at the thought of LJG “working the land.” Like, buddy, have you seen yourself?
“No doubt there a great many things I shall miss about being here.” Don’t make it weird bro.
Yes, I know he’s like gonna miss their friendship and stuff. But he’s always been just a smidge too intense about it. And by a smidge I mean the gay guy openly in love with his straight best friend a gross trope and I don’t like it.
Ok so if we’re following the “rules” of the show that the production used to recite ad nauseam to justify why Jamie and Claire barely seemed to even like each other for a few seasons (”they’re married, we don’t need to see them fuck!” “we already know they love each other, it’s a given!”), this sex scene shouldn’t exist. Because it’s really not essential to the plot. Which just proves the “rules” are and always were bullshit excuses. And the author/writer of this episode def spouted that bullshit too, so she can also shove it.
Because this scene *should* exist and those “rules” *were* complete crap. Because Jamie and Claire are very sexual/physical people and, especially when they’re going through things, use sex to center themselves where they are and in their relationship. Bree and Roger are leaving. Jem’s leaving. They’re sad about that. But they’re also happy that they made a family and got to be together as a family and are glad to have had that chance. (And, they just like to fuck.) So of course this is a good character moment. This is the kind of shit we should be seeing instead of just a constant barrage of plot and violence. And the crew can fuck all they off with their not at all convincing talking points about “rules.”
Also this is a much better use of sex than them constantly having them fuck after a fight instead of actually working through the issue between them.
Also, fuck yeah, get it gurrrl.
SCIENCE!JIZZ! (I’m gonna need a gif of Claire’s face when Jamie’s figuring it out because that’s gonna be in heavy reaction rotation.
I just love Claire fuck yeah science Beauchamp.
It’s also another scene that does nothing to advance the plot, but is a nice respite from the constant trauma. The show has yet to find a balance between the two, which is annoying af because they’ve had five seasons to figure it out. So like whenever there is fluff, folks pounce on it like starving animals. Which some in the crew (and some fans) like to point out like “see, you all like everything now!” Or “look, why are you whining so much, we gave you this!” Or “wow you hate the show but now you like this part? Hypocrite.”
But like, no, that’s not what it means. Not giving someone water for days and then throwing them a small canteen doesn’t mean everything is hunky dory. It’s still super fucked up. So no, enjoying the fact that there are a few fluffy scenes in an episode doesn’t mean the show is good. If they made more of an effort to center the characters and spread the fluff around a bit more instead of waiting until there was like trauma fatigue and throwing in a fluffy life raft, the show as a whole would be stronger.
</rant>
Ok it’s super fucked up they hadn’t told Bree about Willie yet, but I’m glad Jamie is the one who tells her.
“And it wasn’t a matter of love between us, but it was her choice, and that’s all I’ll say about it.” BECAUSE SHE RAPED HIM. COERCION IS NOT CONSENT AND ALL THE PEOPLE WHO ARE STILL TALKING ABOUT HOW “HOT” THAT SCENE WAS ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING AND THE PRODUCTION IS DISGUSTING FOR SHOOTING A FUCKING RAPE IN THE MANNER THEY DID. AND ALSO FUCK THEM FOR HAVING IT BE A RAPE IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN IT COULD HAVE SO FUCKING EASILY BEEN CONSENSUAL.
This show is so fucking not good.
This scene with Jamie and Brianna is super nice, but like, we saw nothing of them building their relationship. He didn’t even fucking hug her after Murtagh died. The scene loses so much of what it could have had because they never did the legwork to show us what they mean to each other.
It’s the same old shit they pulled with Claire and Jamie. “Oh they’re together and endgame so we don’t actually need to show you them building and working on their relationship that much. Because you know they’re together so just go with it.” Like no? Fuck you? That’s not how this works?
FERGUS AND MARSALI DESERVE BETTER!
Of course Marsali’s preggo again. Why the fuck should she do anything but spit out babies. Also, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A PERFECT TIME TO HAVE THE FRASER KIDS TALK ABOUT TIME TRAVEL.
And Bree’s become a sister to Marsali? We saw one fucking scene of them together. See above rant. Fucking show us them becoming sisters. Sorry to interrupt your constant stream of violence and trauma, but fucking actually SHOWING characters building relationships instead of TELLING us they did the thing is how this is fucking supposed to work.
I’m rull pissed we never got quality Fraser kid bonding, y’all.
And ditto with this scene with Lizzie. We saw more of Bree and Lizzie than Bree and Marsali, but like we never really saw them becoming friendly post Bree’s rape and Rogergate.
All the goodbyes are like making me feel inch deep feelings because they’re rooted in nothing we’ve actually seen. And I’m not a Bad Fan or dumb for not filling in the feelings myself. I’m the viewer. It’s not my job to fill in the show’s gaps. It’s the show’s job not to have emotional gaps.
Oh hey! Another shitty man who hurts his wife and another woman trapped in a physically abusive relationship who thinks the abuse is her fault! On Outlander? Who’da thunk they’d have something like this?!
I’m so tired, y’all. So. Fucking. Tired.
I HOPE YOUNG IAN FINDS HAPPINESS TOO, ROGER.
Ok but for real, every time Lord John talks about how Willie and Bree are like Jamie it has that gross tinge to it. Like I know he’s not meaning it like a creeper, but they leaned so fucking hard into him being so into and not over Jamie that the layer of grossness is always there.
Also like, grannie and grandda, we got like one scene of Claire and Jamie playing with Jem. WE COULD HAVE FELT SO MANY MORE FEELINGS ABOUT THEM BEING SEPARATED IF ONLY THEY HAD TAKEN THE TIME TO BUILD THE RELATIONSHIPS ON SCREEN.
Claire making everyone PB&Js is fucking adorable and I love her.
Old timey forks will never not be fucking weird looking.
“And now it’s just you and me again.” Uh, Fergus, Marsali and Young Ian might be a tad offended by that sentiment, Clairebear.
Ok but like do they really think a rope is gonna hold up to fucking magic time travel rocks? It’s gotta just be like a mental security blanket thing, right? Because if not, loooooooooool.
Ok but the really just let their kiddo run off like that in the middle of the magic time travel rock circle? Dumbasses.
Ok but like what’s the betting they ended up in like a RenFest type thing and think they haven’t traveled but they have and it’s like lol look at them fitting in with their old timey clothes vs. skipping them going back to the future and doing the going adventuring around the even past-er past part but with them all together instead of Roger and Buck?
I’m just hoping it’s something completely different than the books because I have zero interest in Bree and Roger in the 20th century and hate the Roger and Buck nonsense with a fiery passion.
Erm, that’s a little close to the house to build a privy, my dudes.
Is the setting a guy’s dislocated shoulder thing supposed to be a cute callback? Because like hey wink wink, first she was kidnapped and then set a shoulder and now she’s setting a shoulder and then getting kidnapped is kind of a fucked up “joke.”
But how about we get more of Nurse!Marsali and less of Marsali just being constantly preggo.
“Sort of like the opposite of what you do when ya joint a hog.” I JUST LOVE NURSE!MARSALI A LOT OK.
Aaand now that we’re all good and docile little fans who have been placated with some fluff and Fraser fucking as a treat, we can go back to the regularly scheduled violence against women. Because we literally just had a violent abduction last week. So clearly it’s time for another.
Everything in this story has been done before...
I swear to fuck, if they do the thing I think they’re gonna do next week, I hope they get rightfully dragged by fucking everyone.
And if by some fucking miracle of Caitriona putting her foot down they don’t do the thing next week, they get zero brownie points. You don’t get rewarded for doing what you should have done the whole time.
And of course the closing is Jamie lighting Flaming Dildo 2.0. His men swore oaths to him, not any government or crown, and protecting his family has always been the top thing for Jamie. So good choice there with saving Claire being the reason he calls up the men.
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thethirdwheel404 · 4 years
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Med Rewatch Series (#5)
S3 e3: Trust Your Gut. From what I remember this is a big one. I just remember this episode title honestly but we’ll see what happens.
-look at that! ava’s just casually in this scene, minding her own business, doing her job! you would never guess that this is a character who would later have a psychotic break and commit suicide.
-that’s really the point i’m trying to make. I hate all those posts where they’re like ‘i hated ava before, but season 4 has finally shown her true colors’ like not even?? no??? we’re trying to prove that that was never even a thing. i want to eliminate the possibility of s4 happening from your minds. nothing from s3 should ever be used as foreshadowing. that’s what the rewrite is about, ava being a good character. ava was never going to commit suicide. she was never gonna go psychotic. that should be ingrained in everyone’s minds.
-anyways, back to the episode.
-connor takes everything like a personal attack. relax
- i never realized how fun stoll was. like obviously not in the story but as a character he’s hilarious. unattached by everyone else’s drama
-awww. this maggie interaction is amazing. tapping sarah on the shoulder (neck actually but whatever) just to say hi. adorable. and sarah is already super jumpy. come on. her anxiety is already setting in. they really gave sarah two huge storylines in the same season.
-maggie... no one else would ever slash sarah’s tires. i mean honestly
-WHY DOES CONNOR HAVE TO CONTROL OF EVERYTHING - honestly ava was just reading off the chart and he can’t even let her do that he has to take over just to say the same things.
-and the way ava just takes it with her smug smile
-she is such a strong character there is no reason she would have gone crazy over connor she literally needs nothing from him.he has not ever had anything that she needed. 
- SHE’S JUST ROLLING HER EYES, SMIRKING, AND SHAKING HER HEAD AT THIS INSECURE MAN ava I love you.
-okay there’s no way i can explain it but after rolling her eyes at connor Ava turns and looks at the patient and instantly her face changes and you can see such pure concern in her eyes?? s4 ava could never (can someone please rb with a picture of what i’m talking about? it’s uncanny and so so sincere.)
- she’s in control of her emotions. she cares so much for her patients so don’t even try to play that card. the only thing connor has done literally since she got here is get in her way.
-AND CONNOR LOOKS AT HER WITH SUCH DISTRUST AND CONTEMPT. TELL ME HOW. this is insane. exasperating.
-and the way she smiles and comforts the patient. i mean come on. she’s just so amazing. AND COMFORTING. if ava really was as heartless as people say, she wouldn’t take the effort to do that. connor didn’t even do that, he just scowls at ava.
-which just proves my point, ava is only ever mean to people who she thinks deserve it. and, the more that I think about it, she’s never really actually mean. sure, she’s blunt and rude, but never cutting. she’s nice to her patients (and I know what you’re going to say, it’s not because she has to be. she’s a doctor, she still wants to help people). but when her patients are dicks, she’s not nice to them. she’s as snarky with as she’s professionally allowed to be.
-like, take this guy. he seems nice enough. he’s funny, polite, comes across charming, so ava is nice and is polite back to him.
-let’s move on.
-why is connor always so suspicious of ava. come on. he’s the one who should be sus. she literally said ‘Don’t worry, Ray, we’ll take good care of you’ and he’s giving her this weird side eye.
-ethan and will being in this board meeting is really adorable to me. like, just, bros.
-oh godddd sarah please relax. sweetie. please.
-sarah fucking tranqed him oh my god
-oh my god noah asking people for help literally shut the fuck up
-straight people are gross. not to hate but how does anyone sit through manstead
-connor literally needs to chill. I know this bit (they’re arguing over menial things in surgery) plays more to them just picking on each other, pulling each other’s pigtails on the playground if you will (i didn’t like that analogy but I used it anyway), but if you look at it, ava was only trying to help connor (suggesting a wider possible target and an easier to handle stitch) and connor took it wayyy to personally. sure the second bit of advise is just poking at him, but she suggested a better spot on the base and he shut her down without any thought.
-and then latham points out that there is no point in arguing, to which ava defers, then connor snidely says ‘Thank you, Doctor, Now, how about from here on out we keep the background noise to a minimum’ and ava just shakes her head, scoffing.
-at this point ava just likes annoying connor because its fun. it’s entertaining. he gets so upset. everyone’s done that, just be annoying for fun (its bad to say but i mean come on everyones done it)
-another point, ava immediately deferring to latham might read to some as her being a suck up but that’s not what it is.
-ava really likes seeing how close to the line she can get. she goes right up to it, but she never crosses it. the same is true with her interactions with other people outside of surgery.
-I really like this story of the girl who passed out and hit her head, and her brother’s a wreck, and her parents obviously think the brother’s a disappointment. and it was finals week so of course she wasn’t taking care of herself. and the brother knew that, and you can tell he cares so much and feels so bad. it’s nice
-complication on the surgery they were working on. ava comes in with a solution (off of connor’s mistake during surgery after not following her advice) but I have a sneaking suspicion that by the end connor will be back on top
-the effort it took connor to say ‘it’s a good idea’ come on man just fucking let it go
-i’m glad we’ve all agreed that connor’s just a dick
-aw look at that she even held the door for him. connor would never
-i don’t want to overly push the ‘med is sexist’ thing but how is it that in a storyline between nat and ethan, characters who have never been romantically involved, they still pull the woman thinks one thing, man refuses to believe it and is right dynamic. i mean come on med seriously. what the fuck is wrong with you.
-the look of annoyance and disbelief on ava’s face that connor hadn’t actually messed up. comedic, but also i get your pain.
-glad that latham sides with ava, ava advocating for a riskier procedure so they could ensure the blockage is removed)
-(something could be said about ava’s high-risk, high-reward ideals. you could even draw the parallel to events in s4 and s5, even though I really don’t want to. it’s an interesting and notable character trait to say the least)
-YOOOO I FORGOT HOW METAL THE PSYCH STORY GETS
-dude straight up cuts his abdomen open and his intestines spill out
-the fear and shock and emotion on sarah’s face make me feel so bad for her
-WAIT IS THIS THE EPISODE WHERE SHE LOSES THE END OF THE INSTRUMENT? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS? i am not prepared to watch an ava bekker breakdown rn.
-the shock on ava’s face when connor said nice job.
-ava actually tried to apologize to connor. well, not apologize but she feels a little bit bad for just how abrasive she’s been to connor. (connor didn’t necessarily have to make it super competitive). Ava said “Look, I know i have the tendency to step on toes. it’s nothing personal”
-and now they’re not arguing and are this close to actually working like a team
-and i cannot believe connor’s big one-liner is ‘Murphy’s law’
-the emotion on april’s face when the girl’s parents won’t even let her brother grieve for her. I feel it. astounding. its so painful omg
-ava: “your optimism is enchanting.” when i was writing earlier I was worried I wasn’t being accurate with her dialogue and making it sound too overly formal but i guess I nailed it. also, this line reinforces how much I love her (so does every other line)
-connor just refusing to give ava anything, no credit, no nothing. doesn’t even give her credit for earning the surgery saying “you may have elbowed your way onto the case, but he is still my patient” (I JUST TRANSITIONED INTO A QUOTE SO SMOOTHLY WHY CANT I DO THAT IN MY LANG RHETORICAL ANALYSIS ESSAYS YOU’RE KIDDING)
-hey it’s joey!
- i can appreciate him so much more when he’s not chasing after reese
-do you remember their first meeting? bickering over who gets the last splenda? (real meet cute amirite)
-dr. charles remarking how all the scientific advances can’t beat human instinct, nice little tie in to the episode title
-ava just smiling while connor waits for her to apologize. she. takes. no. shit.
-i literally hate connor’s face so much. it fucking looks predatory like stop looking at her like that. it’s almost like you were planning her psychotic break
-ava’s cunning, saying ‘we’ instead of ‘i’ when talking about the decisions being made. she’s smart. she knows what to do. She knows how to present herself. (and yeah, a little hypocritical that she said to connor ‘when you fail, I will make sure that it is noted that it was your fault and not mine,’ but like I said, she just knows how to present herself)
-latham: “Dr. Bekker seems to enjoy this discordance.”
-rhodes’ face when changing his mind and saying ‘maybe I do’ when asked if he enjoyed it too - he literally makes the dumbest faces. please. stop. (is it a straight people thing?)
Alright. Another episode down. 17 to go. This was actually a pretty good episode all around. Ava took none of connor’s shit and you’d have to squint to find any sort of romantic subtext in their interactions, which is huge win in my book. reese’s storyline wasn’t too bad, she didn’t go through too much trauma, which, the bar for watching med is incredibly low i guess. This was a really good episode for ava. like I said before, very little romantic subtext, and she had a redeeming quality in the way she obviously cared for her patient at the beginning of the episode.
The main point is something I’ve been reiterating again and again. Ava cares about her patients. Ava is mean to connor because she knows someone needs to put him in his place, and she is glad that it is her.
All in all, this was a pretty good Ava episode. Very happy.
thanks for sticking with it.
-
read the rest here:
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra
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Things get darker right before they get brighter in the end, something three plucky teens are about to learn. Sometimes you just want that darkness to have never had a reason to come for you in the first place. One has to be careful what they wish for, of course.
Welcome to the end, friends
Danny was on the ground, unmoving.
The ghost left with a cheerful wave, saying, “Tata!”  Like he hadn’t just ruined their lives worse than the first time Tucker had heard Danny’s screams at their loudest.  Like it was simply a wonderful day and they had engaged in the most wonderful of conversations, not a fight that ended with one of them-
Danny was in Tucker’s arms, unmoving and pale.
Tucker was trying everything he could think of, removing most of Tucker’s tops and trying to perform every life-saving action he knew off, pressing against his chest, trying to breathe more breath into his lungs, keeping pressure on the bleeding and burnt wound when he saw it.
Danny was in Tucker’s arms, unmoving, pale, and bleeding.
Tucker knew everything was blurry because tears were clouding his vision.  He knew he was crying. He knew he was shaking with the force of his sobs and for once in his life, he couldn’t bring himself to give half a damn about that because Danny-
Danny was in Tucker’s arms, unmoving, pale, bleeding, and his heart wasn’t beating no matter how long Tucker listened for it.
Sam was doing something, pulling out Danny’s weapons, and Tucker wanted to scream at her that she’d done enough with Fenton weapons already.  He wanted to scream and rage at her for what she had done so far with Fenton Tech. He wanted to go to the Fentons and rip them all a new one for making what they made.
Because Danny was dead in Tucker’s arms, and screaming and crying were the only things he could do about it.
But he didn’t scream at Sam, he just watched as she pulled out one of Danny’s paintbrushes and dipped it in the ectoplasm of the cartridge in one of his guns.  She started drawing on Danny’s face, his arms, his chest, and then pulled out another cartridge of charged ectoplasm in another gun and poured it in Danny’s mouth, tilted his head so that he would swallow.  “Chant with me. Chant with me Tucker, we have to fix this!”
Tucker didn’t know any Hebrew, decided he’d learn both because Sam was his friend and because apparently, she could do things that could save their lives with it.  Tucker didn’t need to know what he was saying to say it, and he did say it, over and over again for the next 10 minutes, until the drawings on Danny’s body lit up like fire and every ray of light rushed toward him and everything went dark.  Tucker could hear the song of the universe dimming in his ears and knew nearly for a fact that Danny was sucking the ectoplasmic energy into him along with every other flavor of power within blocks of him. Tucker would let the sun itself go black just to hear Danny’s laugh again.
The darkness faded, Danny’s body was outlined in light, the markings were gone, and Danny groaned.  His chest rose and dropped, his heart was beating, color was coming back to his skin, he was as warm as he’d been since the accident.  Danny was alive in Tucker’s arms, and Tucker wanted to cry even harder than he already had. Instead, the put Danny’s binder back on him, Sam grabbed his shirt and jacket, and Tucker carried Danny out to their hoverboards.  They flew to Sam’s house, Tucker staying as high and close to the sun as he could to let Danny soak in all the light he needed. When they got to Sam’s house, Tucker didn’t let Danny go until he was being set on a love seat on Sam’s balcony.
There were, of course, jokes to be made about the way Danny curled up in the fleeting October sunlight and how his fluffball curls and height combined with this to make him much like a kitten.  Jokes about him being a cross between Superman and the Martian Manhunter could’ve also been made. Danny was a white-haired anime boy, that could be remarked upon with laughs aplenty. Tucker made no such jokes.
Tucker put to use the information he’d gathered at his last LARPing session at furrycon after a shank attempt by a guy who’d wandered into the park where he’d been LARPing at that took their cosplay a bit too seriously.  That being that leather was wonderful armor, silk blocked stabs fantastically when a blade slid through said leather, and that one should always wear cotton under silk anything because sweating to death after a fight near to death wasn’t fun.  He’d smacked a crazy guy upside the head and gotten a useful lesson out of that. Tucker’s older cousin could supply the leather, Sam could order fine silk jackets and pants for all of them, Danny had cotton shirts already, and Sidney offered to use intangibility to fuse the two together.  Tucker commented that the leather would look fitting on Sam since she was more of a punk anyway. She called him a furry, he called her a weeb, and they both explained the concepts to Sydney.
That was all fine and dandy against most blunt force, stabbing and slashing that even a ghost could probably do, but against ghosts and their intangibility, there were few places to go.  Sam had her magick book but Tucker didn’t want to touch on anything supernatural for a while and unless she could prove that her wards were working, he wouldn’t exactly trust Danny’s life with them.  Convincing Jack Fenton that he needed some easily worn and hidden accessory to prevent possession was almost sadly easy, the only condition being that Tucker had to wear one of those horrible looking hazmat suits.  Tucker let it hang in his closet, as he had no intention of matching Jack Fenton’s fashion sense.
One might feel that Tucerk and his friends were being a bit excessive in their measures to keep Danny padded up against the world, but such an individual hadn’t seen their best friend since age 1 die in front of them by the same person’s hand twice so that particular person could kindly go shove their opinion where the sun don’t shine in Tucker’s very polite opinion.
Danny himself was groggy for most of his recovery time and had clearly caught on that they were being extra protective of him.  While Sam was introducing Sidney to anime and videogames and Tucker was showing him the best comics and music, Danny always had whoever wasn’t with the others within arm’s reach.  He was jumpy when it came to his ghost sense telling him that Sidney was there, had his hood up whenever they were outside, and even though they’d been near forcing Agatha’s cooking down his throat at every meal they could, Danny had yet to Go Ghost.  Sam brought up the idea of taking down the shapeshifter and Danny balked at the topic, bringing up the frogs, the latest anime that she had shown Sidney or really anything else when she did this. Tucker was more than fine with this since no ghost mode meant no seeking out danger which meant that the only fights they were dealing with included Dash, Kwan and Dale making fun of them for being a furry, a weeb and a Fenton.  Seeing Sam put her martial arts to use when Dash tried to stuff Danny in a locker was worth the detention he got for tripping Dale as he rushed in to help. He spent it with Sam anyway so that was fine. If wanting Danny safer than Amity was selfish then Tucker was as far from selfless as possible.
“Hey, Danny,” Tucker said while he worked on finishing up the Spector Deflector that Dr. Fenton had started for him in Danny’s workshop.  “There’s a swap meet coming up in Harrison Park this Saturday. Wanna come with? I’m gonna get a set of dice if I can and see if I can show Sidney DnD.  Maybe we all can play even.” He grinned. “We can get you a new bowling ball so you can destroy Sam in bowling.”
“Bro, you’ll be wrecked with her,’ Danny challenged from where he drew in his art book instead of doing his homework.  Tucker was procrastinating by making ghost hunting tech, he couldn’t blame Danny. “That sounds cool.”
“Awesome.”  Tucker set down his tools and pulled up his safety goggles.  “Can you come over and poke this? Very lightly and just a little in case I’m as done as I think I am.”  Danny obliged and there was a loud SNAP accompanied by a yelp and Tucker patted Danny’s shoulder.  “Looks like I’m done with the internals. Now all I gotta do is adjust it so that it can ignore your ectosignature, and Sidney’s and Agatha’s, and it’ll really be done.”
“Done for your armor idea, right?”  Danny scoffed, slugging Tucker in the shoulder while he looked for the blueprint he’d downloaded of the part that’d track ectosignatures in the Fenton Finder.  “Sidney told me about it while we were watching Star Wars. Or should I call it his guard duty shift? Cause I know what you guys are doing and while I appreciate your concern over my safety, I’m the one with powers here.”
“20 hours straight of unconsciousness and tears say that superpowers don’t mean you don’t need protection against people with the same superpowers.”  Tucker huffed. “If we’d been wearing some armor like we’re making then that fish thing probably wouldn’t have been able to bite through me like it did.  Silk and piercing ya know.” He bumped shoulders with Danny when he went quiet and forced his lips up into a smile. “And besides, your parents have literally no fashion sense.  A leather jacket lined with silk? Leather pants, probably with studs in it since Sam is involved? Dude, that’s cool as fuck looking. You’ll be the best-dressed ghost out there.”  Danny laughed and shook his head. Tucker got to work setting up the design for the Fenton Fabricator™ to make for the Spector Deflector. He also considered asking for a cut of the royalties when the belt inevitably became a Fenton Brand item, since he’d finished it.  “You think putting on clothes in ghost form will invert their colors like your suit?”
“Fuck you, Tuck, now I have to find out.”  Danny huffed and Tucker snickered. For a moment everything was quiet, and then arms were wrapping around his middle.  “Thanks, Tuck. For everything.” Tucker looped an arm around Danny and smushed him against his side.
“That’s what bros are for, man.”  The room was a comfortable quiet after that.  The Fabricator and the generator were humming softly at the edge of Tucker’s once again human limited hearing, the only other sound was their breathing and - Tucker could swear - their heartbeats.  The air was charged with something more than ectoplasm and electricity and Tucker wasn’t sure if Danny knew that as well, but he knew that he could hardly know anything else right then. So naturally, Tucker lowered his hand at Danny’s side and started tickling him.  Danny squeaked, squealed out some giggles, and phased out of his grip when wriggling didn’t work.
“You dick!  Get over here!”
Danny appreciated the effort Sam, Tucker and Sidney were putting in for him, he really honestly did.  Sidney still went to his therapy session with Jazz which Danny could tell were helping him by how bright his aura had gotten, and between him and Jazz at school there were at least a few bright auras to go around, but with how things were going, Danny felt at least a bit suffocated.
Half the auras at school - both student and teacher - were dim enough that Danny almost couldn’t see them.  Dash and company had been especially vicious as of late, calling them every name under the sun and getting into actual fights with him, Tucker and Sam.  Between the three of them they managed well enough - being dragged to martial arts lessons with Sam and fighting eldritch abominations from the afterlife did things for your confidence in facing up to bullies - but it hadn’t ever been this bad before.  And while Tucker and Sam both were clearly brighter than everyone else emotionally, they were skirting around things in the most unsubtle way imaginable and Danny wondered how they kept anything hidden. Sam tried to get him into ghost form to see how fast he could fly, Tucker changed the topic from anything ghostly to something nerdy and Sidney seemed to stare at him as much as he did the movies they were watching.  Sure, Sidney was keeping his eyes on the screen but Danny knew ghosts could see more than just with their eyes and the feeling of being constantly watched was getting more than unnerving.
Saturday was a breath of fresh air.  Sam was maybe coming down with something and Sidney was off exploring the city on his own, so it was just Danny and Tucker buying the stuff they’d come for and laughing their heads off at their dumb jokes.  It was sunny, the crowd was bright with positivity abound, and he was having fun with his best friend in the world. It was nice.
Of course, a ghost attack ruined it.
Cotton candy erupted and flooded the place, and Danny slid under a table while the crowds stampeded away, yanking Tucker under as well.  He reached inside, past the void of darkness into the soft and splintered light at his center. It exploded out to the surface and in a flash of silver glass, shimmering shadows wove his hazmat suit around him and unraveled gravity’s hold on his body.  He shuddered, glitching out of reality - or what he was so very hopeful and sure was reality anyway - and gave Tucker a smile. “Wish me luck.” He slid down into the ground and forward, rising out of a mound of cotton candy as big as himself. There was a woman with long black hair, dark green skin, and blue scarce clothing floating over the sweets and stretching her arms.  “I understand a sweet tooth and all that, but this is a bit dangerously Much.” Danny held out a hand with a smile when a sneer was turned his way. “I’m Danny Phantom, hopefully nice to meet you.”
“ I am Desiree,” she said in some accented blend of every language that Danny knew.  It was headache-inducing and he definitely didn’t like it. “ This confection explosion was hardly my intention boy, I am cursed to use my power to grant the wishes of all those who make them. ”
“What, like a jinni?  If I find and rub your lamp and say ‘I wish I had a dick’ do you complete my tra-”
“ So you have wished it, so shall it be. ”  Her hands went up, green smoke curled around him, through him, within him, caressed that inner light and warmth that was his human body, and Danny shuddered in the wake of power well beyond his ability to fully process.  Before the smoke even cleared, Danny could hear Desiree speaking through gritted teeth. “ Yes, boy I am a Jinni.  One of your kind cursed me, both to be trapped in that infernal bottle, but also to use my power for all who catch my ear. ”
Danny was reeling when the smoke cleared, giving himself a mental review of what he could feel on himself and gawked when he realized what had happened.  “Um. Wow.” Desiree was clearly unimpressed. “Uh, well, I know a way I can he-” a ball of ectoplasma, charged up with energy, raced into Desiree’s gut and knocked her back and Danny really wished that people would stop interrupting him.
“Stay away from him, damn it!  Can’t we have one nice day?” Tucker readied another shot and Danny waved his arms to tell him not to.  “I wish I had stopped you from going into that stupid fucking portal! Then we wouldn’t be in this mess!”  crud.
“ So you have wished it, so shall it be. ”  FUCK .  Green mist filled Danny’s vision, and everything went dark.
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steve0discusses · 5 years
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Yugioh S3 Ep 18: Noah’s Dad Decides he Doesn’t Love His Son Anymore When Noah Gets Way Too Into Petz Hexing
I was hanging out with Bro and he made me look at a lot of bad Yugi wigs that were 600 dollars each, and because only like...4 good Yugi wigs exist in the world, I decided to help him get out that Yugi itch in a healthier way, by copy editing these posts and fixing the way I spell Gozaburo wrong about 400 more times before this arc ends.
So last we left off, Noah decided to reference that one part of the Bible he knows.
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He’s gonna change the playing field to kind of run through the history of the Earth, showing us that in every period of history his outfit was never acceptable.
Also he got the history a...little bit wrong. You had to have people before Noah’s ark but...whatever. I took astrology, there’s a lot about planet formation we’re still kind of guessing on, so do whatever you feel like, Yugioh. It’s not like any kids watching this got real pissy about how Noah was totally botching the Archean period.
He also decides to dump on us how he got so smart. See, Kaiba got smart by studying a lot, surrounding himself with people way dumber than him, and then just bossing everyone around him until they agreed with him that he was very smart. In Noah’s case, it’s because he’s literally a computer.
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I’m really glad I get to find another anime that’s all ham about this tree. In this case just slapping it on there for a few seconds, long enough for me to say “WHAT THE HELL, KIDS SHOW?” before it vanishes again.
Good on you, Noah. You just...casually slipped that in there.
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Ah, but unfortunately, the AI who is like...not even human and is *pretty sure* He’s Noah Kaiba is still kind of attached to his Dad. Maybe it was a part of his core code that he couldn’t reject his Father? I dunno, just seems weird that he achieved enlightenment and was like “So uh...I guess I’ll play cards and take over a mindless corporation. Good use of my time.”
(read more under the cut)
Kaiba’s reaction to hearing that his brother stores all of human knowledge was “well, it can’t possibly be that difficult. I’ve done way more than that. I have a homeschool degree and half a high school diploma so go to Hell, bro.”
Yo how many people would sit down, turn to their computer, and just start shouting at their core processor about how they’re waaaay smarter than it? Remember that during this entire conversation, Kaiba is shouting at a literal computer.
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So anyway, we finally get to see why they bothered showing us spider room a few episodes back. Youknow, that room with the baby in it? Turns out...there was never a baby in this room, since Noah was a kid when he first woke up here.
Before it was covered in spiders, it was covered in blue and off white. This is a very boring Martha Stewart room in different shades of robin eggshell. You can tell this kid is a Kaiba because oh boy that is a...really boring 50 yo housewife look, ain’t it?
I’m sure it’s symbolic for the fact he is hella dead and innocent at this point but like...every time we see Kaiba interior design it’s just the last type of design you expect from this high octane family.
Anyway, Noah’s kind of surprised to be awake because, last he remembers, he was very much hit by a car.
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Ya, I mean, if you have to tell your son you Frankenstiened him into a horrible crime against humanity, might as well tell him as quickly and bluntly as possible, I guess.
Anyway, because Noah existing breaks the most basic moral human laws in every country on Earth, they kinda can’t let him go anywhere, which means that to prevent the loneliness, Kaiba gives him...a pet?
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So Noah and the dogcat decide to travel through Domino and realized very quickly that there were only like...five NPC’s. There’s like an ice cream girl, and like a couple walking people, and that’s about it.
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Noah’s words were something like “man this place is full of glitches!” because his dogcat wouldn’t stop barking and he threw a rock at it and it didn’t care. Glitches.
I guess it’s one way to look at it?
It feels like Noah got somewhat cursed like Pharaoh did, just a little bit. Like not completely it’s just that I can’t help but notice both are trapped in some sort of basic geometry shape--Pharaoh’s is a pyramid and Noah’s is an orb, and both have untold superpowers matched with some heavy depression that goes with having said superpowers. Not to mention, both have a host body all set up for possession, it’s just Kaiba is a little bit youknow...unwilling to participate. They’re very different obviously it’s just...way to trap your characters in shapes.
Anyway, last episode I felt like maybe Noah liked being an orb, this episode he’s made it a little more clear that it is kind of not great being an orb...but only because he can’t throw any rocks at dogs or have real conversations with anyone but his own Dad.
Anyway, Noah got a little bored. So his Dad sent him to virtual Mars.
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And now Noah only finds joy in hacking his digital pet. Relatable.
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Now I know a good chunk of you are my age--that good Jenna Marbles age--and will know exactly what I am referring to, as for the rest of you, turning your digital pet into a hell creation was just a thing we all did in year 2000ish. All of us did this.
And I was like “I bet you, that someone out there has made a robot Hex, I guarantee” because I spent...I want to say 2 years of my life downloading modded breedz of Catz 4? I even tried to do it myself but I wasn’t any good at it because I was super young and bad at computers, I never actually got Robbie William’s Millennium as a Catz meow (though trust me, I did try. It was my life’s dream when I was small.)
But the closest I found to a Robot Petz was this?
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Dang. Look at that thing. This one is actually pretty good because it does resemble an animal. I admire it a lot. Trust me, I spent like days moving my bunniez feet around trying to make a dragon and just ended up downloading someone else's dragon.
And then, from the same page I saw this gem right above it.
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HELL YES........
....I freakin love this period of the internet so freakin much. I was only ever really a part of a couple of fandoms as a child and the Petz fandom will forever hold a little part of my heart. I mean, look at this. What’s not to love?
Like, Catz is probably number 3 on my list of best games ever made. Not so much because the game was any good, but because none of the files were protected in any way so even kids like me could hack in there and make the weirdest abominations and post them all to their Angelfire pages.
Well, other kids could, I was so baby that I was still using my Mom’s email address and did not know how to put a damn thing on my webpage. Which I did have. But it had like...only frames. It had like 3 words and just me splitting the page into 50 frames because I did not know what I was doing.
I apologize to all the kids in the room who have never seen a web page covered in ugly ass frames. You lucky bastards.
....but Petz...Noah was into PETZ. I can respect him for that.
I still think he’s a little creep-o, but knowing that he hacked his pet has given me a lot of appreciation for his work.
Anyway, it was after Noah changed the boring ass simpleton dog into a much better dog that Gozoboro decided “I have made a monster, I am abandoning my boy.” Which uh...this was the thing?
This?
I mean as far as body horror goes, Litterbox up there is way worse. As far as body horror goes, we also have, Jinzo over here, but the digital dog with a cute robot head was the thing that made Gozoboro say “What have I done!?” The dog is digital, it’s not even alive.
Especially since I feel like the follow up question Noah made was like way more frightening than the dog thing?
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Kaiba glazes right over this entire conversation. Like full stop, he didn’t even seem to blink. No part of this story even slightly surprised him, although I will admit, at least Seto has decided that Noah...exists and might in fact be a robot his Father made once. This in itself is a big deal for Kaiba, who has a goldfish memory and denial wider than the sea he’s trapped under.
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First of all, congrats to the storyboarder/animator for drawing a hand in that angle, mad respect.
Second of all, this is pretty close to the actual line from the show, Kaiba legit thinks that his Dad wanted Kaiba to be the president, after he knows full well that his Dad was like “Don’t Take Over My Company, You Little Twerp” and then like tried to even send Seto back to the orphanage whence he came. Kaiba’s pretty sure that his Dad wanted that whole thing to happen exactly the way it happened. No regrets. Just family being family.
And Moki’s still chilling on the Moki couch, just kinda taking this all in before he’s summoned unto the field like a playing card.
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Ah, yet another person who is like “KILL MEEE” on this show. It’s been kind of a while. Like, who’s left that hasn’t stood in front of a loaded card-gun like this? Duke? Is Duke the only one who hasn’t sacrificed his body for the greater card-good at this point? Is this why Duke is our amoral Chaotic Neutral? Is this why Duke is still the only one who hasn’t died yet (and I’m crossing my fingers still that he’s gonna be our death 169, it can happen, I can believe)?
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I feel like this is the season of weird hugs. Like everyone on this show that has hugged has gotten a little weird. The only not-weird hug was when Yugi attempted to hug Joey once and then Joey dodged the hug and wrestled him into an arm-distanced noogie instead--which is technically still not a hug, but the closest we’ve gotten to something a human would do. It is so lucky for our art team that all the huggers are supposed to be hella weird anyway.
Anyway, next episode we get to find out if Noah also had an AIM username or got really into Jelly pens. I can see him getting suuuper into Jelly pens, with hair like that.
Anyway, here’s a link to Season 1 Ep 1 to read in Chrono order, in case you just got here and you’re looking for that.
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for-ghosts-like-me · 5 years
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stream of consciousness venting about roommate bullshit post
tldr: my roommates asked me to move out before the lease is up because me asking them to hold themselves accountable for their shitty behavior is somehow worse than their shitty behavior 
One of the most exhausting things about being someone who has a reputation of being quiet and so nice is that when I stand up for myself people are like “this isn’t the Janet I know, you’ve changed!” and it’s like nah bro, this is how I felt all along you just didn’t hear about it yet because I operate my relationships with the understanding that you’re gonna be empathetic and hold yourself accountable for your actions the same way I do. I love to give people the benefit of the doubt because I always look for the best in people. But I’m fucking tired, there is no more benefit of the doubt to give, you’ve dried up the well. 
There is such a double standard with the people I live with and I am so over it. My one roommate never cleans or does anything for other people and then one day he finally will and he will make sure everyone knows about it. Meanwhile I take care of other people pets, clean up other peoples messes, etc all the time without being asked and then our other roommate comes at me that I don’t do enough. Like you’re pointing your finger at the wrong person. He’s allowed to punch holes in walls when he’s upset and never own up to the fact that how he acts makes others uncomfortable, but God forbid I finally stand up for myself. He can punch walls and we need to feel sorry for him. But me communicating my feelings is crossing a line. 
They’re basically like “Just go back to being quiet Janet, this isn’t the friend we though we had in you. Don’t get upset when we decide to do things without you on your birthday, you telling us that upsets you is exponentially worse than us excluding you how dare you speak up. Him punching walls is his coping mechanism but you calling him out for it is so much worse how could you be such a horrible friend to this 26 year old man who throws temper tantrums like a child. Have you no respect for the fact that his parents said no to him as a child? Do his sob stories about his childhood that sound like very average experiences mean nothing to you you heartless bitch? His teacher once told him to stop doing something he knew he shouldn’t be doing when he was in elementary school and that stuck with him man, why aren’t you feeling more sorry for him like everyone else? His best friend raped someone in high school but it just didn’t matter to him so why can’t you see him as a feminist icon because he finally stopped being friends with him nearly ten years later because that friend was better at throwing frisbees than him? He’s a man who isn’t afraid to cry, why can’t you praise him like every other woman in his life?” (The teacher story was true and legit something he thought was relevant to bring up when the rest of us were talking about times adults let us down when we were kids)(And I WISH I was making up the rapist friend story but he really did say the words “It just didn’t matter” in reaction to when his friend told him he had raped someone. It’s also a story I don’t think our other roommate or his gf know about and it’s taken me a lot of self control to not be like “btw his best friend raped someone and he was more than chill about it! How does that make you feel?”)
Like he can get upset and everyone jumps to baby him and I get upset and everyone is just like wow when did Janet become such a bitch. I’m over it. And I don’t understand why I am the one being told I make others uncomfortable so it would be best if I moved out before the lease is up. Like this is literally insane. I’m not moving out early because the roommate who said she’d cover my rent for me to move out early literally told that to our old roommate and then months later changed her mind and wanted a large sum of money that our old roommate didn’t have because she trusted her to not be shady. 
I sent a message to the roommate group chat that I plan to follow the lease agreement and as I type this I can literally hear my roommate stomping around, hitting things, and slamming doors. HOW AM I THE PROBLEM???????
Do they need my sob stories so then I am free to act however the fuck I want when I’m upset? Like I don’t get it. I’m studying to become a social worker and I’ve been to therapy, like I’ve literally studied and worked on how to manage interpersonal conflict. I’m still no expert but it’s not like I’m coming out the gate being rude af when I’m communicating my feelings with them. My empathy and accountability that everyone loved me for in the beginning of this friendship is still fucking there even when I’m communicating my feelings when I’m upset. It makes no fucking sense to me that I’m made out to be the bad guy. Like I used to be very into avoiding conflict too but I never reacted violently or gaslit any one like my roommates do. 
When I moved into this house three years ago I was the happiest I’d ever been. We didn’t have the wall punching roommate at the time, my other two best friends lived here and I never felt so at home before. It feels so bizarre to me that he moved into our home and immediately felt so entitled to act however he wanted and bring physical aggression into our house of love and friendship and that our other roommate embraced that with open arms. It makes me so sad that this is what my last few months of living in my favorite place I’ve ever lived is like. 
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cow5secondchance · 3 years
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Episode 5 - What If I Say My Name Is Lorde - Captain
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Format: The Greenhouse
Eliminated: Blake (Venus Flytrap)
CAPTAIN
waking up to read that there is a tie between my bestie, mario and kaleigh and that i was the original target <3 see. i told yall when every time someone said i'm safe, i'm not. and now i'm pissed so i'm gonna just copy everything i wrote in my confessional here. THEY FUCKING WANTED ME OUT FIRST THEN THEY SWITCHED TO JENNET u see that?? u see how they’re scared of two pocs besties working tgt they told jennet they’re not on my priority list well stop dming me while i sleep maybe fuckers? these whites are fucking fake and so self-centered do i need to beg every white american to talk to me at 3am my time? girl no yea they wanted to target me at first because blake must think he’s not on my priority list for sure self-centered gay u’d love to see it huh i’m gonna venus flytrap that white ass
i mean i'm happy i survived but it won't be the same without my bestie jennet. we've been wanting to play together and our time was cut short because some white gays are so insecure and self-centered? so they decided to go for pocs? cute look on you babes.
#JusticeForJENNET https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/831702842733232148/842243242359128084/goodbye_bestie.mp4
XAVIER
We could have handled last round better
youtube
CAPTAIN
blake is why people are homophobic. period.
lots of details in my DR in the server i couldn't bring myself to do another entry because i was confused about all that "talk" but to sum up, nicole told me everything and blake told me everything too. he straight went up to me and said sorry i said ur name :why: and because i didn't tell me what went on (because i forgot.. like i don't think about this game all day. i also have something to do in my life) and i didn't tell him that i was in another alliance. as if he would tell me like PLS. ur just so entitled.
XAVIER
Blake has been going to us (Greenhouse) apologizing for his words during the call. I think Blake is scrambling. It is too much for just one sentence said during the call. Overcompensating, I think. Now Captain wants to target Nicole and Blake. Jarod wants to target Lindsay and William. I like Jarod, but he definitely is playing two sides now. Being on our (Greenhouse) side, but also on the side of Jarod-Blake-Autumn (though not too sure anymore how strong Autumn is with that trio). Captain wants to try a POC alliance. If Autumn is open, and if Jennet or Mario are the ones who come back from the buy back, that might actually work. And it would be very cool to see that happen.
JAROD
youtube
LORDE
what if i say that my name is lorde and my secret word is captain.. lets just do that
CAPTAIN
daisy and lanie coming back... hmm idk we're still need to wait and see if they want to work with me or not. i didn't do anything wrong to daisy so she might want to work with me. lanie tho, i voted her out but i literally explained everything that went down that round to her and threw will under the bus a bit. but will she want to work with me? idk. and i know blake is gunning for a flytrap so i need to get it or he'll flytrap my asian ass.
AUTUMN
youtube
CAPTAIN
okay lanie told me that she told william she didn't wanna do me in the first vote but of course, i didn't get told that. and it made sense cause like lanie played with me so she should know that our timezones are different and it is hard for me to talk to ppl when i go to bed. we'll see how it goes.
XAVIER
So I checked out early last night because I wanted to watch Ragnarok on Netflix and didn't want to keep checking my phone. I thought when today came around, there would be more people who have played. Um... just one other? 2 rounds? And no one online to play? I tried approaching Kaleigh and Lindsay but no response yet. I guess no one wants to look like they want it too much? But hello, we are in a game, of course everyone wants it. There are a lot of, let's just see what happens, instead of going for it. Maybe the VFT plays into that because it is in play as both Captain and Blake want it. And my fear is if I make it in the GH, nom Blake, he gets the VFT and use it on me again. Ha ha what a trip if that happens.
So I wasn't going to play but Nyx messaged and said they wanted to play. But they wanted to rig it. I didn't want to, I want a chance to win of course. And I did :) Hope they aren't too bummed about it. I am in the GH I think, with at least 3 (Nyx beat Lanie) points. I know Jarod is in there too by beating Daisy.
Two Greenhouses in a row, but hope history doesn't repeat! 
youtube
CAPTAIN
last night before i went to sleep, i thought to myself what if i get the one that nom ppl and the nominee will get a seed to nom me so i could get another seed. then, i went to bed thinking it might be a bit too much. but BOOM, i woke up today and saw jarod have this same plan so that's good. we communicate telepathically it seems. i just need to win the seed count comp and get 2 more seeds but like idk about my puzzle ability GRRRR!! but i'll try my best. i just wanna get the flytrap before i get flytrap'ed out.
LORDE
i'm cosplaying as lorde again and lorde wishes captain a successful bidding tmr
CAPTAIN
yall idk if my puzzle time would be good enough to win seeds and i just found out william has 0 seed
LANIE
IM BACK IN THE GAME AND WE’RE IN A GREENHOUSE ROUND! BRO GREENHOUSE IS MY SHIT it’s such a good format ahhh. None of these hoes know the greenhouse like I do honey. I’ve played it like 18 times.... probably the most out of everyone.. and IM A HOST OF THE ORG PLZ AND IM PLAYING AN IRL GREENHOUSE WITH TAYLOR ON THE 29TH AHH But on a serious note, I’m back in the game and I don’t trust ANYONE on my tribe that voted me out, especially my love William. Love him as a person but I’m gonna get him in this game at some point, you wait and see! He just agreed to throw the RPS challenge to make up for voting me out but HONEY IT’S NOT ENOUGH LMAO. He’s probably on the bottom of my trust list. At this point in time, I trust Jarod, Daisy, Lindsey, Captain, and Blake (even though the last two voted me off, but they were told convoluted information so I don’t blame them). I will work with Nyx but I don’t trust Nyx as much as I would like. I want to talk to Kaleigh more, and idk Xavier well but we’ll talk I’m sure. For this greenhouse round, Jarod is sunflower meaning he can put up TWO houseguests. HES PUTTING UP CAPTAIN AND I! But this is a strategy. There’s a power called the Flytrap, which the holder can use to take out any single person that they want. Captain has enough seeds to buy the flytrap, but so does Blake. WHOEVER WINS THE FLYTRAP WILL LIKELY LEAVE ME SAFE because I trust both Blake and Captain. People are gonna see Jarod put up two allies and flip their shit, but trust that this is all in typical Greenhouse strategy hehehe.
CAPTAIN
yes its time for an update! a lot has happened since yesterday... so lets begin with last night, i went to sleep and had the auction in my mind SDFSDFSD i actually woke up before my alarm went off like twice. the first time, i woke up and checked my phone.. it was like 7am and then i went to bed and i dreamed that the auction was already over and i missed everything DSFDFSDFSDF PLEASE! so i woke up right after and phew it was only 8.15am methinks so like 45 more minutes.. anyways!!! blake dm'ed me before the bidding and told me he would go for a flytrap... i mean i know that already and he said he wanted it because its been on his mind. PLEASE its been haunting me since last season.. and i didn't reply to him but i was talking to lanie about seeds too and i think lanie told blake i asked her for seeds? so blake came to me again and said 'Not you asking people for seeds' or something. like mister. and what about it? lanie knew about my plan of getting the flytrap and u just didn't know about it. so just sit down and relax god damn. oh and i found out will won the seed comp which was a no no cause will would give his seeds to blake for sure. and before the auction began, i think blake would have like 15 seeds? but he actually had 18 seeds. i was so lucky i outbid him. whew. and like he told me he had only 2 ppl giving him seeds while everyone prob gave me their seeds. and um? what about it? do i need to feel bad for you when you literally targeted me last round? white twink tears i guess. he tried to get me to promise that i won't flytrap him out but i haven't promised him. i said i'm down but its not a promise right? so yea i would flytrap him out. while lanie is in my dm like don't flytrap blake she loves him. MISS THING. I JUST TOLD YOU HE TARGETED ME LAST ROUND???? like god.
hey i'm back!! i know that blake would prob give someone his seeds that he has so we have to be careful about that in next week. imma need to try to win the greenhouse comp. fingers crossed for me tho besties. this is for jennet. everything i do in this game is gonna be for jennet. no one can mess with my sister/bestie. and once you do that, you just cross the line.
i'm sorry if i come off a bit aggressive.. i don't wanna be that but you know theres something about white men that is wrong.
heyyy god i'm just so proud with myself. i actually outdid myself and i just wanna go further than this. i wanna beat my old placement.
DAISY
youtube
CAPTAIN
missing jennet hours
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A Literal Story
At this point it’s like I’m going out just so I can write about it the next day.
Except I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to start writing about it. I was going to take my usual approach and write about just my feelings throughout the night, but instead I’m going to write what actually happened. Take a bathroom break, then grab your popcorn because this one’s a long one.
After ordering my second mixed drink of “Flor de Cana and coke” but instead receiving a quarter full glass of ice and the rest full of straight Flor de Cana w/ a can of coke on the side, I knew what kind of night it was going to be.
My first confused moment of the night was when I sent my sister-in-law’s video of me and a mutual friend dancing, to my friend from work who commented how I “really move like a man behind there - WTH - like you have a willy!!!”. No offence taken (shrugs). I actually take pride in the way I can handle a bumpa anytime, anywhere - sober or drunk, thank you very much. But is she saying that I don’t have a “willy” to be able to handle it though? Or that because I’m a woman I can handle it just like a man or better? I’m going with my second assumption.
I was pretty sure I saw my high school math teacher, who I haven’t seen since then, just show up to my happy hour spot. I’m sure she’s the reason I failed math...paying attention to the wrong bumpa-I mean formula. Have mercy. I guess she noticed my confusion because she came over to hug me and ask how I was doing. I told her I didn’t know whether to feel old or young because she definitely looks even better than she used to. Blame the alcohol. The weirdness of that interaction led me to message my main and I tried to explain how confused I felt - even asking if she was her teacher since we both went to the same high school. She had no clue who she was (I mean, she did block out her high school days) but when I told her how she came up to hug me etc. she said “Ew - tell her to get away lol”. I didn’t mind it at all though.
My second confused moment of the night - well I’m not sure exactly what happened on my part but during the conversation of laughing emojis, funny gif’s & drunk typos with her, I somehow misread something she said and made a dumb ass comment questioning if she had someone out with her to which she responded “you sound like a man with that question”. Ouch. That was my response and current feeling just recalling that moment. I tried explaining how much I didn’t mean for her to take offence to what I said but her honest self was quick to call me on my BS. Rightfully deserved, so why am I still overthinking her response? Everything I say when I’m drinking is how I really feel and it’s nothing less than the truth. If anything, even more so. I just didn’t feel like 3rd wheeling it that night, that’s all. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t have questioned her like that, but damn...her saying I sounded like a man was hard to hear...and a second time though? Just 45 mins after the first time I heard another friend tell me I’m behaving like a man? What kind of coincidence is this? All I know is I’m sounding and behaving like me. So what does that even mean now because I really don’t know how to feel. 
Anyway, we moved along the conversation and I drunkenly found my way to her location. Her cousin was with her and as I hugged her cousin first and wished her a very belated happy birthday, I felt her pulling on my arm. “Why do you always gotta hug her first?” That angry pout though. Not sure if she actually wanted me to answer that, but I did. “So I can get her out of the way to hug you longer”. That smile though. As I sat down with her, she surprisingly carried the conversation then tried to get me to help her drink her Appleton & ginger ale although she knows I can’t stand that mix. I might as well drink the Appleton straight. Where is the sugar, Lord?
I was way too drunk to even think about drinking anymore alcohol so I decided to grab a cup of coke from the bar. She comes over and while I was trying to figure out if she was going to order another drink when her full one was still on the table, up comes this dude. Of course. She looked uncomfortable with him drunkenly draped over her from behind so I gave her the are-you-okay look. She squeezes free for a moment to tell me he’s a coworker and since it’s his birthday she told him she would buy him a drink. We exchange eye rolls. Well, that was definitely a lie. To him. I manage to peel him off her and ask what he’s drinking. “Flor de Cana & coke”. Well would you look at that. Another coincidence for the night. I get the bartender’s attention and order hers and her cousin’s drinks too. She pulls out her card and tells me she doesn’t want to pay for his drink. Honestly, I would have paid but I was too drunk to math and I only brought a certain amount of cash to last wherever the night took me. I mean, it was only 9:30pm. He’s on top of her again, not making any sense in her ear from what I can hear. She’s literally leaning so far away from him now that she’s standing on one leg so she pulls on my jeans pocket. I give her the tell-me-what-you-want-me-to-do-with-him look. She tells me to give him his drink so he can leave. At this point, I have to peel him off her again - this time a little harder with a “BRO, chill”. “I know her, you know - I work with her at her office, you know”, “Yeah trust me I know, doesn’t mean you gotta try climb up on her though so chill - Here’s your drink”. Too drunk to even hold the cup straight, he tries to talk in her ear again & spills a bit of his drink on her. I push him away and grab her closer to me - just in time before he spills his drink again as he stumbles away. Weirdly, I’ve missed the adventure of rescuing her.
Back at our table we chat for a bit then it’s time for the next location. Apparently they sell food at that one - news to me. Fast forward to the booth. We even got a waitress now so of course I have to order a real drink. The alcohol is hitting me hard and just as I’m laying back to close my eyes for a bit I open them to her about to sit on my lap. Oh, now she’s ready. Front ways is my favorite, but hey I’ll take this. She’s on top for what seemed like forever - and always on beat. Food showed up so my front got it’s first break. Wow, she’s carrying the conversation again - going on and on, but she’s really opening up this time. A lot of this is new, personal info. I won’t mention it here because I knew it came from somewhere inside that still hurts her. But she also told me things like, she’s Spanish but her mom didn’t want to teach it to her - My dad didn’t want to teach me either. We can both understand it un pequeno but...the look-Spanish-but-can’t-speak-it struggle is real. Thank God for hookah and food at this place because that’s the only time my front got a break. Damn, she was rough that night - it was almost like I could feel her frustration because it’s been awhile since she got some. I could also feel my front was going to hurt like hell in the morning but right then there was definitely something happening in my pants. She slowed it down and I closed my eyes. She leaned back far enough for her bare back to brush my lips. Her favorite strapless tops are my favorite because I can feel just enough skin. I’ve never craved the rest of her before but, it was definitely happening then. My hands started to wander off without me. Up, then down, over then under. Lingering around the areas that aren’t mine and tracing every curve. Quickly holding onto her hips to keep her on top when she would slide off with her wildness.
Then it was my turn. I don’t get much turns because honestly, I prefer to feel dick rubbing on my ass but I’ll do it for the fun of it. Carefully now, because that one time I let her behind me, it was way too much for me to handle. About-to-tear-mine-and-her-clothes-off kind of can’t handle. She promised it wouldn’t happen again but she’s unpredictable. I was just trying to stay safe. Just as she got a little too into it I’m done for fear of crossing that line again. Oh great, now her ripped jeans are ripped all the way open at the knee and we spent God knows how long trying to tie the frays back together. A little distress (get it? LOL) and a lot of apologies. I’m ready for a smoke.
We make it down to the parking lot where her cousin and I smoke a few. I’m just trying to sober up, really. Just as a conversation starts between us she yells at me to stop talking to her cousin and here comes her pouting again. She kept calling me an asshole and said I only love her cousin. I pulled her hard up against me and told her to stop lying - I held onto her and made sure I was looking right into those enchanting green eyes when I said that I loved her more. That I love her the most. That smile again. And that hug. Goddamn, that hug.
I then try to assure her cousin that I can drop her back to her car. This conversation happens every time I’m out with these two. Every time. She doesn’t trust her. She doesn’t trust me. She wants to drive them both. She wins again.
I hadn’t sobered up but I needed to get home as quickly as possible. Once I pull into my driveway I messaged her to let her know I made it and to make sure she’s okay. I needed to get inside my house and find my bed because I was about to pass out. And my front was aching like a bitch. I fell into bed and sent her my final messages of the night - how drunk I still was, how much fun we had, how sorry I was for tearing her already torn jeans and an “I love you”.
I passed out before I could read her replies including an “I love you too”. That was reassuring to see first thing in the morning while wondering if I should get out of bed to ice my badly bruised front.
You know what wasn’t reassuring? Seeing a tear in my goddamn panty. A TEAR! Ouch. Another coincidence? Damn, what a night.
0 notes
whatwouldfrogsdo · 7 years
Text
Opportunity (or Dreamer)
Day 6 of Nursey Week!
Trigger warnings: This deals with discussion of racism, particularly racism within the NHL, as well as white supremacy and internalized racism. Disclaimer that I, the writer, am white and so please, please if any of this is insensitive or straight up incorrect let me know and I will edit. There’s also some internalized acephobia.
Also on AO3 here.
“What’s that about?”
Derek looked across at Ransom, then followed his gaze, frowning when he saw April and March playing beer pong. Then he realized that Holster and Dex had sat down to talk just beyond the beer pong table.
Derek paused for a moment, considering if it was okay to answer honestly. “We’ve had NHL scouts. It’s, uh, getting to the point where we have to decide if we’re staying here for fourth year or not.”
“Shit.” Ransom looked impressed. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I think they’re starting to look at Samwell as one of the top colleges to try and pick from or something. Dex and I aren’t talking about it much. We don't want to affect each other’s decision.” His teeth worried at his lip. The reminder of next year's uncertainty got more and more stressful the closer to a decision he felt. The hiss of air next to him told him that Ransom could see some of his doubts, and the next thing Derek knew, he was being steered towards the stairs.
In the attic, they settled on the double  which had replaced the bunk beds about a year earlier, and Derek stretched out so that he was staring at the ceiling. Ransom flopped onto his stomach and tilted his head to look at him.
“What's up?”
“It's stupid.”
“Isn't it always? Okay, start easy. Do you want to play NHL next year or stay here?”
“I want to play NHL, of course I do.”
“And you want Dex to do the same but he's not so sure?”
Derek squeezed his eyes shut. “No. No, I think he'd regret not doing that last year. I didn’t come here for the degree. I came for the college experience, and I can leave after three years knowing I got it. He came as the first person in his family to go to college. It was an effort for him to get here. You never know what might happen with hockey and realistically something could happen that first year before we've made enough to get by on, and I can shrug and live on my parents’ money and maybe write a book or some shit, but he— It would kill him.”
There was a long silence. “Well why the hell aren't you telling him you think that?”
“Because half the time we fight it's about money. And— And because this hits too close to our first ever fight. I applied for the scholarship even though I didn’t need it and he did. What if— What if it’s my privilege talking when I say I want to go into the NHL, but that’s not for him? At least not now. Isn’t it kind of fucked for me to want that success straight away, but want him to wait?”
Ransom pulled the toy frog he and Holster had gifted to them at graduation towards him and had what looked like a staring competition with it while he thought. “I’ve never known you and Dex to avoid fights,” he finally said. “You tell each other what you think, whether it’ll annoy the other one or not. That’s how you work.”
It was true. Derek so rarely told people what he really thought of them, but with Dex he always had, and in the end it had turned into a strange form of trust. Similarly, back in the beginning when Dex was trying to mold himself into somebody he wasn’t, it was only back in the confines and privacy of their shared dorm that he let himself open up, heart pouring out for Derek to see, to the point where they didn’t know how to function when they had to pretend not to know such things about each other. “This is different. This is our futures. Besides, it’s the sort of fight we couldn’t keep up here. It would affect the whole team.”
Ransom stiffened for a moment, and when their eyes crossed, Derek knew both of them were thinking about all those altercations between Ransom and Holster the year before. Making life decisions was difficult.
“Nursey, bro, the main thing is you want what’s best for him.” There was a crack in his voice which betrayed a hint of emotion at the acknowledgement that Holster had only ever wanted the same for him. “And when it comes to privilege- I mean, fuck, have you spent so much time teaching yourself about classism that you’ve forgotten that you playing in the NHL will automatically put you on a Wiki page of Black players in the League? And you'll literally be like the third person with desi heritage. Hockey’s so fucking white, Nursey. You can’t let an opportunity like this pass you by because you’re trying to cater to your white boyfriend’s feelings.”
Derek nodded. He knew that it was true, but forcing himself to make a decision without factoring Dex in seemed impossible.
“Way I see it, Nursey, not talking to each other is making this decision more difficult than if you were. What if he’s thinking the exact same thing but he thinks you want him to go with you?”
“That’s the other thing, though!” Derek said, sitting up. “What if we can’t do long-distance? We’ve been living together in the same fucking room as each other ever since the second time we ever met. It’s not even just since we’ve been together, it’s since before that. We don’t know each other apart. We just went from hating each other’s guts to— to—”
“To disgustingly domestic?”
“Whatever. But we did all of that while living together, and the one summer we were apart was difficult enough and now we’re even closer and he’s my best friend and I don’t know how this would work. We don’t even—” His hand shook a little and he dug his fingernails into his palm as he tried to push the words out. “We probably have sex less than your average long-distance couple already.”
“Woah.” Ransom’s hand flew out and grabbed Derek’s, prising his fingers out of a fist. “That’s personal. You don’t need to tell me that.”
“But it’s relevant. What if we go all that time not seeing each other, and then when we do I’m not in the mood. Am I just supposed to expect him to be okay with that?”
“Dex knew what he was signing up for. If he really isn’t okay with that, he doesn’t deserve you, but I’m willing to bet Jack’s annual salary that he loves you, asexuality and all, and won’t begrudge it. Your relationship is way more than sex.” Derek knew he didn't look convinced, because Ransom let out a heavy sigh and continued. “Long-distance doesn’t work for everyone, right? But it does for some people, and you two— It’s up to you to make it work, eh? I know I’m the last person who should be giving advice on making it work considering my relationship couldn’t handle a move to Boston, but a lot of that was me not putting in the effort. I kept just thinking March and April have each other, so if I’m tired after another full day of med school, I don’t have to ring, or Holster’s got a game this weekend and it’s easier to get to that than it is to get to Samwell for their game, and what if I screw up his rituals by not being there? But if you put in the effort, and if you keep talking to each other, why shouldn’t you be able to manage it?”
Derek stared at a stain on the ceiling - the one which Holster insisted had been there before he moved into the attic, even though Ransom didn’t remember it being there to begin with despite it being right above where his top bunk had been. A long-distance relationship with Dex was incomprehensible to him after all this time of waking up next to him, and every time he tried to imagine it, doubts plagued his mind.
“Hey,” Ransom said softly, and Derek looked back at him. “This will be good for you. If you know you can get through this year, you can get through anything with him. If you can't, it's better to know now when you've both got a definite support system around and you'll have something to throw yourselves into. Otherwise, what? Five years down the line you've got kids to think about and you end up traded across the country from each other and realise that you actually don't know how to function apart?”
Derek nodded. “You're right. I know you are, it just makes me wonder why we have to change anything if we're happy.”
“Things change, bro, that's life. Don't turn down the opportunity to follow your dreams for love. Didn't La La Land teach you anything?”
“I didn't watch it.”
“Oh. Not everyone lives with Holster, eh?”
Derek snorted, but when he responded, it was with a sincere shrug. “He might be worth making new dreams for.”
“Nah, he isn't. Nobody's worth that unless they're willing to do anything they can to let you follow the ones you already have and if that's the case there's no point changing them. What difference does it really make doing it a year early? It's not like the odds of the same team signing you both is that great and it's probably lower signing the same year. You're allowed your own dream. You're allowed to want to give up on college for it and still think Dex should stick it out here. And he doesn't have to make his decision based on you thinking that but also you don't have to make your decision based on what Dex wants. Except you don't even know what he wants! You're just stressing over making sure he's happy and comfortable and please just think about why that's so fucked up.”
Derek’s breath hitched “I know. I know, okay. I'll talk to him. I'll tell him I'm doing it.”
“Good. You can fulfill my dream, too.”
When Derek looked over to see what Ransom meant, he was met with a mischievous grin. He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Well, I have a dream that one day—”
“Oh my God.”
“The Black boys and girls can play hockey with the white boys and girls.”
“That's already a thing.”
Ransom carried on as if Derek hadn’t said anything. “And I have a dream—”
“Are you really doing this, you absolute nerd?”
“That one day the Atlanta Thrashers won't be accused of reverse racism for hiring Black players.”
“Pretty difficult seeing as they aren't a team anymore.”
“But also that they won't only hire Black players to give themselves a particular fan-base.”
“Are you done?”
He grinned. “I don't know, are you convinced?”
Derek pushed himself off the bed. “Honestly, I'll do it. You're right. I have to do this; it's not an opportunity I can miss, and I want to do it now, not in a year when it'll just feel like wasting time.”
Ransom jumped up to hit him on the back. “Look at my little frog, all grown up and mature and ready to face the world.”
“You're so embarrassing,” Derek muttered as they started back down the stairs to rejoin the kegster. “Uh, but thanks.”
“Any time, bro. I mean that. You've got my number.”
They sidled up to Holster and Dex who each silently demanded if everything was okay. Derek swung himself up to sit on the arm of Dex’s chair, and placed his feet in his lap. The look Dex gave him said ‘we need to talk,’ but his fingers were gentle and reassuring as he ran them up Derek’s calves. Hopefully, they were on the same page.
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steve0discusses · 5 years
Text
Yugioh S2 Ep 31: You Can’t Spell Marriage Without Mai
First off, when I got to this episode, I turned to my bro and said “WHAT” and he said “Right? This episode is the best. It’s all down from here” and I was like “YOU SAID THAT TWO EPISODES AGO” so now I know Bro can never be trusted.
If you had told me the plot of this episode before I watched it, I’d say “no, that is Mario Party Fanfiction, and you’ve changed all the names.” That is where this episode went.
Does Mario Party Fanfic exist? Quick Google search, one moment. Dear Lord. OK, I’m back.
Now guys I want you to know that every time a ship comes up in Yugioh, I write like...10k words about it, math equations appearing around my head, as I try to figure out what the freakin hell anyone is even doing and if the writers even know what they’re doing, and I’ll just promptly delete it. I just want you to know the service I do for you. Every time it comes up I start ranting about what the hell an ancient Egyptian would even understand about modern romance and then I stop myself and go “No! Focus!” and I’ll Ctrl-A and I’ll just *delete* and feel a burden lift off my shoulders and into the ceiling like a prayer.
And then this episode happened?
And I’m just like...
...
well I TRIED to spare you.
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Please admire how many people they stuffed into Mai’s very small convertible. I half expected them to drive up to Kiki’s Delivery Service.
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In case you’ve also forgotten something that happened 40 episodes ago, Mai saved Joey last season by giving him a McGuffin as well as a gross ass handkerchief (which he doesn’t have anymore, the whole 'will they ever return the gross ass handkerchief’ plotline seems to have left the building) and finally, here, halfway through S2 we’re going to actually address why Mai would have any compassion for this bundle of awful kids.
I mean, Joey is still in high school and Mai is like 24 (although some say 44???) so I’m pretty sure they were trying to make it seem platonic or motherly between these two but eh, I don’t even know with this show, man. I mean she and Joey are 8 years apart but Serenity is 4 years Tristan’s junior despite Mokuba being 1 year younger than her and like right there. (Mokuba’s like 12 by the way, something surprising I found out when I did a Google Deep Dive on everyone’s canonical weight a few episodes ago.) And then Pharaoh is like either 5000 or 16-ish depending on who’s asking, so age doesn’t seem to be ever an inhibiting factor in this show.
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But as is Yugioh tradition, any space that could possibly be filled with any growth between a boy and a girl--even platonically--must be absolutely derailed by something exploding.
(read more under the cut)
Stepping out from inside of this limousine is a man who wears sunglasses at night, and so at first I thought “oh hell it’s Pegasus’ security, he’s back” But he’s...he’s not. I really, really wish it were.
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Joey literally wiped his hand off on the ass of his jeans before trying to shake the hand of this guy he has never mentioned before in his life but swears is his favorite person in the world.
Jean wisely left him hanging.
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Joey is SO ready to see a ship in this show actually do something. So ready, that he is willing to accept Mai and this rando we’ve never seen before as canon, despite the fact I’m pretty sure a chunk of last season was trying (rather unsuccessfully) to pair him up with Mai?
It’s not where I expected this episode to go! I really thought we were going to go and play a tourney? We were meeting up with Kaiba at a stadium one block away - he’s just sitting there on his big ass dragon shaped chair and like “omg the moment I walk away they get completely distracted, every single time.”
Anyways, lets get to a flashback where very fancy people in pastel suits were playing cards because apparently cards isn’t just for streetfighting.
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I have been wading through 1.5 seasons of these characters doing these elaborate dances around each other to never ever speak a word of commitment or relationship, and I’ve been pretty OK with them doing that. Honestly, the less romance in my Yugioh, the more satisfied I am, but then, after 1.5 seasons of basically nothing but Serenity wearing some bandages and needing a lift from the hospital, suddenly we have this random guy show up and profess marriage, and it is the most whiplash this show has ever given me.
I will accept demonic weird ass devices threatening children, spooky magic, bad history, and all sorts of weird ass outfits but like marraige???? wtf?????
Which is something that Mai seems to know because she turned him right down as you should when a person you’ve never met before decides to marry you based on your ability to coordinate cards in a deck.
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Joey honestly thinks being a rich star will automatically make you marriageable material, because I guess Joey completely forgot about Seto Kaiba, a very famous billionaire who is maybe one of the least marriageable people on the planet.
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So what gets me about this episode and what makes it so freakin weird is that everyone here accepts this as the rules from this point on.
She MUST be married if Mai enters and then loses this game. Welcome to the Yugioh universe. This is how card people dating works. This is law, she has to accept this proposal if this card game based on chance loses.
Anyways, Yugi’s here to be the voice of reason in a dating episode and that’s something I didn’t expect to write in a sentence.
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Yes, his motive was “Mai, this will take too long” not “Mai, you don’t know this guy, and he’s probably crazy” it was “Mai please, I know the world will end when I enter this tourney and so you have nothing to lose and it’s the best time to marry a stranger actually, but can you not? It’s taking SO LONG.”
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Duke Devlin in the back still trying helplessly to keep up with what the hell is going on since he wandered on this team by complete accident four episodes ago.
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And yes, it’s THIS that makes Joey not like this guy. Not the part where he proposed out of the blue, nearly ran over them with his car, stalked Mai for like a year, and then completely disregarded Mai’s common sense. No--this part, where he threatened to kick Mai out of the competition. That was the low blow to Joey.
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You will lose this duel and gain a husband.
That is an actual line from the show, folks, this show went places.
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aaaaand Mai starts losing right away.
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DAMN
IT.
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This is the one thing I thought was pretty much in the bag. That there would not be the concept of one of these characters getting married. That was the One thing I was sure of. But I was not only wrong, but this is like the most bizarre wedding I’ve ever seen on TV. It’s basically a shotgun wedding but with cards???
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And what makes this more bizarre, and it was something I only noticed after watching this episode, is that we’ve seen this type of behavior before. But at the time, back in the beginning of this season I was just like “that was just a really weird thing that happened that wouldn’t possibly be accepted as normalized in this universe.”
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Like, remember that creepy DDR guy who dueled Yugi so that if he beat Yugi in a match, that creepy guy would become Tea’s boyfriend despite never spending more than 2 minutes with either of them? That despite the fact that Yugi isn’t even her boyfriend, it was like something all three of them were like “I guess I have to go through with this now.” At the time I just assumed that was an insane thing that happened. I just assumed that would never come back.
This was the episode where suddenly I realized, maybe the big issue with these kids dating is a hell of a lot more than just actually going on dates. Maybe it’s because I didn’t understand what their love language is. It’s not Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, Acts of Service, Words of Affirmation, and for sure as hell isn’t Physical Touch, it’s the 6th, not very often talked about love language, that’s right, it’s Cards. Rewrite everything, Gary Chapman. Tear it all down and reshoot all those Ted Talks, we forgot something.
Like, sometimes I forget that these guys live in a universe controlled by cards. I mean we’ve seen cards and romance intermingle twice. (three times, if you count Rebecca, who might be engaged to Yugi now? It was kind of a really weird ending to a card game) Pegasus even tried to resurrect his dead wife through cards. All these cards currently exist because of Pegasus’ undying love for Cecilia (who is...OMG I forgot that chick might be alive somewhere)
What I’m saying is that...What if this is how they’ve actually dated this whole time? What if this whole time that I assumed no one was dating they......they actually...were? What if I just didn’t notice, because it was just so freakin weird? What if this is more like how in a Jane Austen novel, if someone goes on a walk with someone else it’s basically like 3rd base?
Like, remember Jane Austen’s Persuasion, where Captain Wentworth went on a walk with Louisa and she was like “hey catch me, I’m 14 years old!” and then she tripped off a wall and got a concussion and he was like “DAMN IT! Now I have to marry her!” and everyone was like “Well congrats on getting married, Louisa.” and then she fell in love with a sad poet who gave her soup once while Captain Wentworth was getting his nuptials planned out in Bath and so Louisa dumped Captain Wentworth’s sorry ass and he was like “OH THANK YOU. YOU ARE SO 14.” And then sad soup man showed up in Bath while Wentworth and the rest of Louisa’s family was quickly crossing out “Wentworth” on all the marriage invitations and sad soup man was like “Before Louisa, I was in love with this other chick, but she died, so I’m pretty stoked I found Louisa.” and Captain Wentworth was like “You’re such an asshole for cheating on your dead girlfriend, I would never do that, you ass!” and then immediately married Anne Wentworth by writing her one single letter saying “hey, want to get married Y/N?” despite the fact that he went well out of his way to avoid her the entire book?
What if that’s been going on in the background of Yugioh but I just didn’t know because, unlike Persuasion, I never took a college class on Yugioh Dating Customs so I have no idea when it ever happens.?
See, this is the stuff I usually delete but like psh whatever, it’s a dating episode, so for once this isn’t a tangent, and yes, I am reading too much into this, thank you.
Anyway, after Joey asks Yugi what to do and then telephones what Yugi just told him to Mai enough times, Mai beats Jean Claud Magnum and avoids a lifetime of...whatever that would have been like.
However, something is off about that game and it takes a card wizard to explain it to us although it was...........really obvious.
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This is the third time someone on this show was abducted by a ninja net.
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She gets kidnapped by a guy in a ninja jet suit contraption and this is her reaction!? Freakin lucid dream what the hell?
This is the weirdest show I’ve ever watched. Not so much because it has stuff other shows don’t have, but because it forces me to have these expectations of what I think it is and then, once I get comfortable, completely changes it. Last episode Bakura murdered 3 established characters in a graveyard. Like, not even random people, Bakura murdered 3 named people with funny accents we’ve known since last season. That was already completely insane for a kid’s show to do. But rather than address whatever the hell is going on with Bakura, we’re just going to add more to the pot and throw in this crazy asshole, too. For kicks.
Like this is a filler episode somehow? This filler episode would be an entire season of any other kid’s show.
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So this episode ends with Mai hanging from a flag pole in a miniskirt, but it’s not like anyone in this city would ever peek their nose out of their window to see what the hell is going on, so at least she doesn’t have to worry about upskirting an entire town. Just these two people.
And like, Joey’s such a mess in that head anyway that like who freakin cares? He’ll probably wake up tomorrow without any memory of yesterday thanks to possession, drowning, getting beat up, tied up, and then this oncoming concussion.
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I’m pretty sure she should have stabbed him right through with this duel disk?
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(the dialogue really does imply that if he had done this himself she would have been cool with it. How freakin weird is Mai?)
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And then he just lets her go? Makes you wonder if it was an abduction or just a game he thought she would enjoy? I don’t know. This episode was all over the place. I mean...maybe he really thought she’d like getting caught in a net and being flown all around Domino? I don’t freakin know.
Like, in my opinion she was stalked for over a year and abducted with several witnesses. But, no one is calling the cops. So like...was this weird to them? This was very weird to us...but like...maybe Mai was like “hm, that was a so-so date.” because this type of behavior is just how this universe does?
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....
....
Yugioh, are you OK?
Anyways, next week:
Is the tourney cancelled because after episodes and episodes of tangents, no one ever freakin shows up and Kaiba has to go back to school to do a Chem final? Does Duke Devlin ever even do anything? Does it take 20 minutes for Bakura to walk through security because he keeps setting off the metal detector with his invisible necklace that he can never take off?
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