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#did i steal this from twt?

anticurses · 10 months

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i am SO smart i’ll just add sanrio stickers to the oec pcs,,,

#okay i did steal the idea from someone on twt who put spongebob stickers on the border BUT still.

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alistairsmonstercafe · 4 months

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NSFW How to Gain the trust of a Dragon in the Dragons Den, Guide 02

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART ?

NOTICE; TOP/SWITCH Male Hybrid Reader

CHARACTER; BOTTOM/SUB Price, BOTTOM/SWITCH Soap,

CW; Threesome, slight choking? Hella horny dragon, body worship, praise, face sitting, fingering, ass eating, cock suckin' shit like that.

ADDITIONAL; I don't mind Fem/Fem aligned readers reading but don't feel insulted/complain that I strictly don't do Fem reader, not my cuppa tea mate.

INSPIRATION; @/Bluegiragi Monster AU on Twt and Tumblr & @/thegnomelord for the scale idea on tumblr.

NOTE; Accidentally posted the draft... | This will be a mini series staring our favorite little hybrids. Part ? Will be a poll of a repeat character or a non 141 character.

As Price paced outside the office, the temptation to peek behind that imposing door grew stronger. His hybrid instincts nudged him toward curiosity, but his rationality warned against it. He wasn't your mate. Not Soap's either. He'd be a prick if he suddenly barged in purely because he was a horny dragon, he hasn't felt the urge for a proper mate for years, but it was uncommon for species to crossbreed, or to even have packs, or other mates then one that weren't of the same species.

Yet, there was something magnetic about the possibility—a pull he couldn't quite resist. The thought flickered in his mind like a distant flame, leaving him torn between his innate curiosity and the risk.

And despite the gentle reach of his claw near the door, he didn't. He was old. Older then most of you, who would dare date a dragon of his age? Even people of his kind preferred dragons who could keep up with them, not groan at a sudden back pain or a weak knee. Nor the crowfeet on his eyes, signs of age in his face. His body was not as strong as in his younger days, and well, his stomach. It had a lot more pudge to it, something he'd never openly admit.

The following day, despite his position as captain, Price found himself stealing more glances at you and Soap, your little cuddles during lunch, or the way your tails intertwined. The soft cooing and purrs left to each other left him with want, tugging at the fringes of his thoughts. He couldn't shake off the inexplicable allure it held, even though he knew his authority wouldn't grant him it.

As he maneuvered through his duties, his mind kept circling back to you. He questioned his own reluctance to simply talk to you, push the conversation open. It wasn't about rules or permissions; it was a deeper, primal restraint holding him back, a fear of the unknown that clashed with his innate curiosity.

Yet, when he came back to his desk later that evening, he saw a small pile of, to what to most, would seem as mindless trinkets, was actually an abundance of jewels, some of his favorite coffee, tea, and a make shift.. Scale? No. That wouldn't make sense. He could recognize it as yours and Soap's fur. In the shape of a scale.

Were you lads trying to court him? A deep rumble erupted from his chest as he gently held up the item to his nose, his wings relaxing at the mixed scent. The scent of a mate, his instincts whispered. And he couldn't help but agree.

Tucking away the items he placed them in a small box on his shelf full of items he hoarded before. He couldn't have a huge hoard, so he did what he could. And turned the scale shaped fur, into a necklace he could wear on his chest. Closest to his heart. For he knew they had won it already.

It was the next day where you and Soap were idly chatting, he sat down infront of you, and slid over a scale cut perfectly down the middle for you two. You both easily looked up in shock, mouths open. "Wha- Cap'n- Does this mean-" Soap sputtered, and you were still quiet with your jaw still wide open.

"It does. Means it quite bloody clearly, Soap." He replies almost shyly, his firm voice is softened with love and affection as he smiles. Those beautiful crow lines appear once more and the sight of both of your tails swaying happily is a tell-tale sign hes done the right choice.

He's quick to get back up, walking to the door before stopping and turning back to say; "My room, at nine exactly. Alright?"

You're both quick to say yes and despite his cool demeanor as he leaves, Price feels hard as a rock as the first blooms of heat start back in his stomach. A feeling he hasn't felt in ages, but that can wait for later tonight. He wouldn't be a captain without all that self-discipline, after all.

So its when Price comes to the dark of his room, a little worn out, he surprised to suddenly see a nest, and you and Soap sitting on his bed with only the moon light to illuminate your features. And coo he does because he melts at the sight that you both waited for him.

You're the first to pull him in with a grin, your tail wrapping around his waist as you and Soap are quick to strip him down until hes left in a shirt and boxers. But hes quick to push you down onto your back in the nest as he sits on your lap, Soap he behind Price, kissing down his back as his tail wags.

But as you look up at Price, he looks like a beauty, and your hand gently traces down from his chin, to his toned yet supple and beautifuy scared chest, to his stomach, caressing the pudge as you whisper praise. And it. Makes Prices face burn with pride at the fact someone accepts him and his appearance, something he didn't think he'd be self conscious on.

Soap continues quick and sloppy kisses up his back, leaving soft nips and bites on him, leaving it mostly betweem you and Price. He loves both of you but you had both discussed the idea before. You wanted to pamper Price, and make him feel higher then cloud 9.

And you did, each kiss, and bite, began to switch as Price was switched around by Soap. And you easily pulled Price's hips towards you and kissed his ass, making Price groan in response. The sound cut short as Soap began to kiss him, stroking your cock in the meantime to keep you satisfied as well. It was his turn to assist.

"Fuck- Price- So fuckin' pretty for us." Soap groans out to price, and you can only agree, pressing kisses up his neck as his tail makes soft noises against the nest as it wags aggressively against it.

Price only moans a little, his hips still bucking into your mouth as your tongue is quick, and perfectly long enough to reach deep into him inside, his dragoh tail is quick to curl around your neck and slightly squeeze lovingly. The way you and Soap praise Price and his body makes him melt. Hes an old lad, scales of iron from how the world has hardened him and yet you make him so soft.

So loved.

So accepted.

He thought he was content with 141 but knowing that two of the members in it are his mates? He can only purr.

Its when Soap slides down and suck off Price whilst hes still sitting on your face does he lose it. Not knowing where to buck his hips either back and forth, and instead sways them. His claws tugging at Soaps hair and your hands wrapped tightly on his hips, bits of blood is evident from your claws but neither notice.

Its when you suddenly slide in a finger that Price goes almost limp, his tail squeezes a little tighter and his moans get louder. Damn the thin walls because tonight he knows hes going to be fucked well in his nest.

And in his eyes thats a night well spent.

Aftermath; By morning Gaz is the first of the 141 to complain. Small eyebags under his eyes as he stares at you, Soap, and Price.

"Fucked real good huh? Give me some earplugs next time alright?" He remarks, drinking some coffee, Ghost watches but said nothing. But theres something about the way his smoke slides up his arm at the words 'fucked', before sliding back down, gives you slight curiosity.

#cod #cod mw2 #gn reader #john price #john soap mactavish #male reader #monster au #john price x reader #soap x male reader #soap x reader #john x reader #john price x male reader

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08luvmailz · 4 months

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⌨︎ ⁩◞ HERO FANBOY — ! ❪shoto todoroki❫

SYNOPSIS ୨୧ ! which a certain hero from ua crushes (hard) on a idol ! headcanon, ooc shoto

FANBOY SHOTO! He wasn't interested in kpop activities, heck he hardly known anything about kpop in general.

He started knowing about them because of his brother natsuo who bought a heck ton of albums and blasting music in his room.

He side-eye his brother when he's screaming because he got your WINK-PHOTOCARD, as he keep screaming " omg! ITS SO SPARKS "

he saw the photocard and he was like " oh she's pretty " but disregard it afterwards BUTT

DIDNT KNOW HE WOULD FELL THAT HARD

he saw one of your recent comebacks on tv because his brother is streaming it and gahdam ur fucking SPARKLING ON STAGE.

At first he started knowing your group, YOU FIRST then streaming your group songs, your debut solo, collabs. streaming your group shows and music bank AND ALL THOSE

started buying albums too with natsuo. FINALLY HE HAVE SOMEONE IN THE FAMILY WHO WILL BE IN DEPT FOR LIFE BUYING ALBUMS

Natsuo asked who is his bias without hesitation he said your name, bro was smirking so bad at his lil bro BECAUSE YOU ARE THE MAKNAE OF YOUR GROUP, also half japanese and same age as him.

Bro was blushing whenever the camera pans at your face and smirking and doing that HE WAS GETTING HOTTER THAN HIS QUIRK

have a well known kpop stan twitter account who always make short comment about you but ICONIC because of how pure and sweet it is

doesnt know it but actually fell inlove with you NOT BECAUSE OF UR FACE (its a plus on him) but because of your determination and hard work, humour and personality is just CHEFS KISS

no one knows about his obsession welp it almost slip up when he accidently unplug his wired earphones to his phone AND SUDDENLY BLASTING Nobody knows by your group.

he lied he is just a casual listener

defends you on twitter, he looks like a soft boy but damn he is a beast on roasting BUT FAILS CAUSE HE CAN ONLY CUSS AT THEM

dedicated to buy front row tickets when your group finally have a concert there at your hometown

BRO WAS FIGHTING FOR LIFE AT THE POOR CONNECTION

bro brought the vip tickets for him and his big bro (with his dads money ofc, not like his father would know)

bro brought the 2 tickets for each day

won a fancall with you once but DAMN IT HIS HERO STUFF IS GETTING ON THE WAY

poor bby sulked the whole day that he missed the call, he was practicing his lines and tone for you

brought many batteries for his lightstick

make sure he is lookin good (not like he isn't good looking)

bro wake up early asf he want to be there as fast

bro became popular fan after one pictured him as the guy from the (group name) concert at jpn

he didnt know he bacame popular, he just saw his face 3 days after the concert on stan twt

BRO WHEN YOU TWO MAKE EYE CONTACT HE HAS HEART EYES

BRO WAS WHIPPED ASF

you are one stubborn fuck saw this cute guy with a scar and went through the barricades even though security was trying to get you back in stage cause its just a sound check and your safety too

Bro you came closer to him and saw his instax reaching for you. MADE A HEART CHEEK AT HIS FACE AND CAME CLOSER TO HIS FACE

bro almost want to faint right then and there.

you went after that he was kinda sad but happy he got a selfie WITH HIM

making this his lockscreen and making a frame of this treasured photo

You kept stealing glances at him and interacting with hand language, asking if he already eat lunch or just blantly flirting with him

LUCKIEST FAN

natsuo kept pushing his shoulders for every interaction at their section BUT MAINLY YOU ARE FOCUSED ON HIS BROTHER

bro when he came back from school BRO WAS BOMBARDED WITH QUESTIONS LIKE

" I DIDNT KNOW UR A FAN TODOROKI! " " WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME UR A FAN, I WANT TO BUY TICKETS TOO " " i didn't know todoroki listens to kpop " "BRO DID U HAVE PICS AND VID OF (your leader name) "

was now known as poker face but listens to puppy love by (groupname)

After that twt post of him being a handsome fan THEN PEOPLE STARTED SAYING HE WAS THE KID FROM UA, ENDEAVOR SON AND ALL THOSE SHIT

have an article of him now being the hero fan boy

boy he didnt give a shit about them, he just wanting to chill

but that didnt start there

your member posted on weverse a video of you taken, watching the sports festival and chanting HIS NAME AND BETTING THAT HE WOULD 1st PLACE

bro became the luckiest fan alive

saying he is the luckiest fan and hero and all of those then actually GONNA MEET YOU

you have a campaign like a collab with a hero AND THAT IS HIS DAD

participating on a event JUST TO SEE YOU

he did and boy was he nervous

he kept stuttering at the end of his sentence

then because actually friend with you, a little bit touchy side BUT HE IS A GENTELEMAN just subtle glances and touches

got your number and him posting a selfie of you two on twt (he made another acc just to post boast that picture)

after that he was well known as the hero fanboy who will soon in the future marry his idol

that woud be a story in another time <3

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komelrebi-san · 6 months

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subby boys are the best, oml <3

i am totally not delusional but oh lawwwwd 🤭🤭🤭

tw: MDNI! sub! needy! slight perv! boys x dom! reader, mostly gn! reader, twt! links (you might have to log in to see them), bondage, use of toys, slight femboy, slight mommy! kink, pls tell me if there's more that i should add! don't like, don't read.

subby boys! who are just so needy for your attention all the time.

subby boys! who'd do anything to distract you from whatever you are doing so that your hands can be on them.

subby boys! who can't stand it when you are not with him, but they know they can't touch themselves because you'd punish them if they did. but they just can't help it!!

subby boys! who ended up being punished afterwards, because they just can't keep their hand to themselves! they look so pretty, in a petite little skirt with a vibrator shoved up their ass, hands tied behind their back. and you told them that they can't cum before you came back home.

subby boys! who just can't hold their orgasm at all, when you come back they were in tears, having cummed so many times that his pretty cock hurts :(

subby boys! who needed you so bad, yet you were at work. they'd dress up for you in the prettiest pair of lacy panties that you owned, touching themselves, hoping that their desperate whines and whimpers would make you come back sooner.

subby boys! that use your toys to make himself cum when you are not home, and he'd film himself too, wearing a pair of headphones so that the mic can catch every single noise he made. he made sure to use the dildo that cums, and he opened his legs wide to make sure you can see him pumping the toy into his tight little ass, his seed squirting out of his tip.

subby boys! that steal your panties because they smell like you. they'd rub the cloth over their sensitive tip, and of course they'd send you videos too, because they knew that you'd fuck them silly afterwards.

subby boys! when their slutty nature got the best of them, they'd dress up in a maid dress, touching himself and filming a video for you too. they'd edge themselves until he came, hard, and he even had the audacity to send you a message along with the video: sorry mommy i'm clumsy, i accidently spilled my milk <3

subby boys! are the best, right?

#genshin smut #hsr smut #kpop smut #genshin x reader smut #hsr x reader smut #kpop x reader smut #mha smut #bnha smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #jjk smut #mha x reader smut #bnha x reader smut #kny x reader smut #jjk x reader smut

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lovifie · 21 days

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Hewwo (TwT)

Can you do one with the wheelchaired user and Soap or Price? ~<3

Luv u >_<

Hi love! I hope that you like it!

I am not a wheelchair user so I hope I didn't say anything offensive, if I did please let me know ❤️

Soap

I just know this man would save your contact as "Hot Wheels 🩷"

You first met at the supermarket, he was looking for something on the top shelf and didn't notice you, accidentally pushing you slightly.

You quickly stopped the wheelchair, turning to look at him.

"Shit, sorry, bonnie. I wasn't looking." He said, stepping back so he wasn't hovering over you. "Ye alright?"

He is immediately smitten with you, the annoyed look on your face automatically making the little brat weak

You answer a bit harshly, not that he cared, and you point to what you were trying to grab for the unnecessarily high shelf. "Could you please grab one of those for me?"

He jumps at the opportunity, quickly grabbing it and handing it to you. "I'll grab the moon and the stars for you, bonnie."

You look back at him, silently pondering how much you want the cereal. "This will do, thanks."

He laughs loudly, walking along and apologising again. "Could I maybe... Take you out for a coffee? A meal?"

He is looking at you, head cocking to the side like a puppy, waiting for an answer.

"Are you a creep?" "Oh, definitely."

You still go out, and you end up having the time of your life. And as time goes on he only gets worse.

The "Don't drink and drive" his favourite joke whenever he sees you take a sip of alcohol.

And if you are able to stand? He is shouting "MIRACLE!" or "LIES! TREACHERY!' and it doesn't matter if it is the first time he has seen you standing or the 100th time.

If you ever leave the wheelchair unattended he is definitely stealing it and going Tokyo drifting around the house; only stopping when you shout his name like scolding a dog. "Sorry, bonnie"

Price

With him it would be the opposite, you bump onto him.

It was on the bus, he was a bit grumpy about having to take it since his car broke down, but he got to meet you so he took it as a godly message.

He was standing close to the bus door, you entered and before you could lock the wheels from moving the bus started sending you rolling back against him.

He grab the handles, only to avoid the hit and looked down at you with a smile when you looked at him panicked. "Well, hello to you too."

You started to apologise profusely, turning around a bit to check you haven't hurt him. You softly grazed his hands on your process of checking on him and it sent a funny feeling up his column.

"It's alright." He reassured you, resting his hand on top of yours. "I don't mind a pretty thing like you crushing on me, love."

It made you stutter, tripping over your words as you started to blush profusely. Funny enough it was him the one with a crush on you.

And he just knows he cannot let you slip away from him like that, and when you mention it is your stop he shoots. "How about you let me buy you coffee? For the trouble."

And who are you to turn him down?

That's how he got your name, your number and himself under your skin.

I just know acts of service is this man love language, constantly trying to just be of use. Wheelchair or not.

The postman left a parcel downstairs and you can't get it into the elevator? This man is taking it up on his hands, whether it is a letter or a fucking fridge.

You are almost ready to go but your phone is charging in your room? This man is sprinting down the hall as if running away from an explosion.

You are on a fancy dinner and some people are slow dancing? You looked at them for four whole minutes and you expect him to not do anything?

He's picking you up, your arms around his shoulder and just dancing with you; no matter how much you complain about being heavy or anything, he's dancing with you.

And regarding the two of them; I just know that if some stupid person ever said anything along the lines of: "Aren't you tired of taking care of them?" They would just stare at them like they are idiots, going like: "They take better care of themselves than I do of my own, if anything they are the ones tired of taking care of me."

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illumnis · 5 months

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see through you. — he knows. his mouth is locked shut with a key by his own accord. he awaits the day you dig your feelings from the soil and tell him directly; after all… he’s been waiting all this time, how long will you take?

pairing: alhaitham x gn!reader

warnings: reader has hair long enough to tie back, unedited

art credits: ahriii7 on twt

you were in dire need of a haircut. it annoyed you how, as you studied, your hair always managed to swing right back into your face, despite you tucking it behind your ear just seconds ago.

frowning, you set your pencil down just a tad bit more obnoxiously than usual, and move both your hands up to tuck the hair back behind your ears. huffing, you set both elbows on the table, ready to get back to work, when a gentle touch tingles against your wrist.

alhaitham…

his touch handled you like porcelain. he stretches the wristband on your wrist, pulling it up and off of your skin, transferring onto his wrist instead.

you peer at him curiously- did he do all of that just to steal a hair tie?

his warmth travels behind you, and he pulls back the strands you didn’t even notice fall back into you face, along with the rest of your hair and ties it gracefully.

as if it was the most normal action in the world, he simply sits down in his usual seat beside you, opening his book and scanning the texts unbothered.

“w-wh…” your hands subconsciously move to check his work on your hair. he does an intriguingly clean job at it- where your assumptions incorrect? did he really have experience with women?

you smile at the thought, turning towards him to jest, “did you learn how to do that from your books too?”

alhaitham looks up from his book with a neutral expression- despite that, you can sense his comfortability around you through his relaxed shoulders.

“no, just through observation.”

you furrow your brows curiously, a playful smile teasing your lips, “observation?”

you laugh as you confirm what he says, “what scholar do you watch all day to know how to tie someones hair back?”

alhaitham doesn’t seem to hesitate in his answer, “you.”

the teasing smile falls away from your lips and you’re left stunned- you almost scoffed after feeling the smugness in his attitude radiating onto you.

he knew what he just did.

he watches as you sit there at a loss for words, he’s so amused he almost lets a chuckle slip.

“come here”, the small smirk fights through his unbothered facade, his tone relaxed and smug.

you press your lips together stubbornly, and alhaitham raises a brow. he searches your eyes- when he finds what he’s looking for, he leans back.

that spark of interest- enough to light a fire, but you refused to let that much show. he found it, he knew you wanted to see what would to if you remained stubborn.

fine, he’ll give you what you want.

he hooks an ankle around a leg of your chair and pulls you closer to him, he feels his heart squirm at the sight of you peering at him in surprise.

he takes his pointer and thumb and tucks your chin delicately between them, as if you were a page of a book he thought precious to him.

he leans in- but just before your lips could even brush, he turns your head gently, inspecting your hair.

“i did an amazing job for my first time”, he muses, a knowing smirk curling a corner of his lip upwards.

you scoff in disbelief, turning your head back to only see his demeanour relaxed. despite your narrowed eyes at him, the distance remained the same as before- so, so close.

you seem to let your guard down when you find his tender gaze, “i like you, alhaitham.”

he leans back in his chair at your confession, as if a heavy weight had been taken off of his shoulders, “i know.”

“excuse me?” you’re bewildered once again- never had anyone gotten the last word with alhaitham.

“just wanted to hear the words come out of your mouth.”

you scowl (it’s out of love you swear- only alhaitham can make you feel annoyed lovingly).

”shut up and kiss me…” you mumble, trying to avoid further hurting your pride.

he obliges witthout protest, finally closing the distance between you two- just as he displays himself, it reflected in the way he locked lips with you. the passion, the smugness, and the arrogance- though you wouldn’t exactly call it arrogance if he claimed himself good and is good, damn good.

you pull away in a giggle, a joke overtaking your mind, “don’t tell me you learned to kiss that well from a book…”

alhaitham only smirks before shaking his head, “no… from my dreams of you.”

no one has ever gotten the last word on alhaitham- not even you, whom he cherishes the most.

navi. mlist.

#THEATRE: NOW PLAYING! 🎭#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham imagine #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact

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s4toryuu · 4 months

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inumaki headcanons — 2

notes: inumaki my beloved… as promised this one is a xreader, slice of life, reader wears dresses and is implied is a ‘girl’, toge goes viral on tiktok so kind of socmed!au

part 1

so like when you met him you thought he was mysterious at first

and then you were just like ??? he thinks he’s so cool not talking… geh, rude

so you start being cold to him for a while until one day he writes you a post-it asking you to go out to a cafe nearby

confused, you were interested in seeing his face and, like, you had nothing else to do so why not

you were apprehensive at first but you guys ordered the exact same drink and food without knowing and you got along because of it

that day you got really close even though it was mostly through his notes app (he types really fast)

you guys had the same humor (albeit he’s more outward and immature)

he took his mask down to eat and you, like, stopped chewing on your mochi waffle and started staring because you did not expect him to be so good-looking

and he definitely noticed because he started chuckling and he tried to hide it as he took a bite of his waffle

and oh my god his smile

a/n: ok I’m definitely writing this fic comment if you want to be tagged!!

you find out he’s really scared of making you do something you don’t wanna do, like terrified, like it’s his top 3 nightmares

the first couple of times you slept over he taped his mouth shut in case he sleep talked LMFAO

you only found out because you woke up earlier than him and you laughed almost waking him up

you guys getting together was a crazy feat tbh

he’s a gentleman

but he’s a troll first

like you were starting to think he just wanted to dress up fem after stealing your clothes for the 4th time

so you bought him a dress for his birthday

it wasn’t a cheap dress either (you bought it in your size) lol being a jujutsu tech student you couldn’t even spell broke so

one day during training he’s late and as you were about to check on him at his dorm he turns the corner and holy shit no fucking way

he’s wearing the fucking dress

he couldn’t zip it up so the open back was flapping around as he walked towards you with this exact smile :] on his face

it was supposed to be a maxi dress that ended at the calves but since it was in your size it ended at his knee

luckily (not) he was wearing sweatpants

everyone was so confused but gojo didn’t even make any comment he was just like “ok now that toge’s here..!”

you were dying while everyone was just confused whether he was serious in wearing the dress 😭😭😭 yuta was like “oh… you’re gonna wear that for training..?”

toge puts his hands in the pockets, emphasizing it “shake shake!” with a shit eating grin

“where’s your scarf thingy?” “it didn’t match with the dress :(” he typed

and he was deadass cuz he actually trained with it until it got in the way so he just took it off and he trained shirtless

but you weren’t complaining though hehehe

when you first made out you flinched in shock because you felt cursed energy from the marking on his tongue

you got addicted afterward…

I imagine him to have like really nice (?) aegyo sal and really pretty eyes

his love language (giving) is 10000% physical touch and teasing you

he does that “what’s that?” rizz shit and you fall for it every time

he went viral on tiktok for doing the dance to sekai no owari’s habit in his uniform because he did it COMPLETELY nonchalant despite shaking ass like he does it for a living

it was his first public tiktok too and it had 637.2k likes in 5 days

you’re like wtf and he’s just like the algorithms just love me (cuz he’s lwk famous on twt too)

the comments are like “lol how did his scarf not fall down” “oniisan were you forced to do this” “he looks like he would have a pretty face” “show us your face”

and then like yuuji (whos posts somewhat regularly) makes him do the kawaiikute gomen trend a month after toge’s habit tiktok and again he did it hella nonchalant

that one went crazy too it got 721.6k likes in 6 days

“this is the habit guy” “I knew he would have a cute face” “what’s with the weird makeup?” everyone’s just thirsting for him because he’s so nonchalant

you, and everyone who knows him, however, know that it’s a fuckING FACADE

he looks quiet and you’d think he would be cuz he can’t talk normally but he fucking yaps as if people understand him

he makes sure you know his opinion on everything

you’re watching a movie and he’s spitting “okaka! takana ikura ikura ikura!” every nine seconds

I mean he talks with the tone/intonation of what he actually means to say so it’s actually easy to understand him

and it’s only words he can’t say so he screams laughs and emotes like a normal teenage boy

he hates waking up early but you like taking walks in the morning sometimes and he never misses it for you

he loves you sm hehhehehe

part 3 coming soon! comment or submit an ask if you’d like to be tagged to the waffle cafe date!!

#𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘶𝘶’𝘴 #I think im gonna call this toge waffleverse toge #inumaki toge #jujutsu kaisen #headcanons #fluff #slice of life #socmed au #megumi hcs next?#inumaki x reader #jjk headcanons

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ghostieyanyan · 1 year

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You know I think Jamil is one of those characters I can envision as a yandere. If you’ve seen Aladdin, you’d know that once Jafar took over the kingdom, Jasmine became his slave? I like to imagine that overblot Jamil kept MC around instead, dressed them up in that red slave outfit and put shackles on them which sounds really kinky. Jamil would like to keep MC around as a slave but is also like crazy about them even before their overblot because MC was kind to him and didn’t treat him like a servant. Maybe he teases them a little bit to rile them up. Kinda like a glorified pet but also lover at the same time

Yes yes YESSSSSS!!!! without a doubt i love overblot jamil so much... its kinda bad xD

~My Jasmine~

Overblot!Yan!Jamil x mc

(i drew mc fem so it’ll fit the jasmine outfit. the red one, chef kiss. also chapter 4 spoilers. also sorry for my spelling and grammar mistakes. this is why i draw qwq)

~~~~~

i feel like jamil had a love at first sight with mc. like when they met in the kitchen and they offer to help with cooking and hearing his troubles. like yes, he wanted to used them at first but after like a few minutes he fell HARD.

He knew he wanted mc as his queen/king but he, of course, needed Kalim to be out of the picture. With him as housewarden, he’ll be highly respected with his beloved by his side. and Kalim? well he’ll be gone, who knows maybe he’ll be kicked out of NRC too. If Jamil plays his cards right.

But noo... you just had to run from him and fall into those slimy octavinelle’s hands. They even had to mock him when they came by! Stupid slimy-.

During his Overblot!

yes yes yes! he will totally have you as a pet. his personal play thing. even with this power, he’ll be bored, so entertain with him..

no? you don’t want to play with him? what’s going to happen to your friends? oh, that’s the last thing you should worry about. master has to teach you how to behave. He can’t have a pet that bites that hand that feeds it, right?

I think at first he wont actually use his unique spell, it'll be a waste to just force you to behave when he can just train your body to behave first and you’ll stay like that for the long term. instead of the short term option, right? Let’s just hope you body and mind can take it.

but hey! if you be good, he’ll treat you. maybe he’ll feed you and look inside your pretty lips. Or he’ll keep you safe from those roaches that insist on coming back and steal what rightfully belongs to him.

Just don't leave his side. K, pet?

~~~~~

for nicknames, i thought of pet and desert flower but then i was like wait... i know a flower, jasmine! but now after finishing the drawing, idk how i feel about it? cuz its an actual name.. so ya sorry if you don't like it. i really dont want to fix it rn TWT also i didn't know if i should keep his bangs so i did one with and one without. so yay. i’m actually very happy with his picture, it might change in a few days but rn, i love it. i hope you guys love it too. ^^

#twst #yandere twst #twst fanart #twst headcanons #twst jamil #twst jamil viper #twst jamil x reader #twst jamil viper x reader #twst overblot #twisted wonderland jamil #twisted wonderland

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agendabymooner · 9 months

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lost in japan ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc) - tltl series extra

“i was hoping i could get lost in your paradise.”

summary: sylvie and max in japan. sylvie’s new obsession. a lot of shopping. and twitter/instagram wars. OR f1 twt summarized each one of max’s posts in his ig story after he and sylvie ford went to japan without any notice.

content warning: use of explicit language, established relationship, threads of posts regarding their relationship, nothing just an inchident serious just fluff and possibly humour, press the pictures for the full view!

note: me: i’m gonna update the masterlist. also me: haha funny brain post some more.

i don’t feel alright today but i hope y’all are doing good and touching grass. enjoy xx

masterlist

tagged maxverstappen1

liked by tillywolff, landonorris, georgerussell63

comments have been limited

yukitsunoda0511 did you go to akihabara then? liked by sylvieeford

maxverstappen1 she practically lived there if i’m being honest 😀

danielricciardo watch out mustang he might steal your supermodel career liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford he already snatched it. by the weave and all

landonorris left the country as an avid animal crossing gamer and supermodel, came back as an animal crossing gamer and supermodel with a hint of otaku liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford i can be hot and be obsessed with certain fandoms at the same time, best friend 🤐

landonorris i know, best friend. and i fw it 😍

pierregasly max had been texting us in the groupchat asking yuki about animes and street foods. he was studying that’s why he’s on the phone all the time 😂 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford we had a tour guide for a reason maxverstappen1 😭

maxverstappen1 yuki knew the seedy areas that we didn’t know about. how did you think i found our way into that alleyway of vending machines?

yukitsunoda0511 i helped him

sylvieeford it was quite sketchy but thank you yuki 😀 take me somewhere with lights next time caddy

charles_leclerc did you get me something?

sylvieeford my priceless presence during the next race?

charles_leclerc i’m hoping for something like some stuff from the mario theme park.

shawnmendes i’m glad you took my advice 😉 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford am i ever glad that i did.

maxverstappen1 if we hadn’t been listening to your playlist we probably wouldn’t have anything to do at home 😅

tillywolff is there anything for the little cubs perhaps??? 👀 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford maxverstappen1 lol about that

maxverstappen1 you’re gonna hate us so much

tillywolff oh god, you two went all out on the kids. victoriaverstappen these two are at it with the gifts again 🥲

victoriaverstappen we should swap lives for a day at some point and see how much clutter would you step on when you get them toys

sylvieeford actually we got them new friends and some new clothes from the nintendo shop 😉 then we went to sanrioland and got them all…

tillywolff you two need to stop the retail therapy

maxverstappen1 what’s done is done, tils 🤷‍♀️

christianhorner i’m glad you two missed me 🙄 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford don’t worry we got you something to compensate 😉

christianhorner i don’t even want to know.

maxverstappen1 posted a story !!!

bonus !!!

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

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threw a punch in a bar | knj

(or, nothing good happens when a man you’d accidentally knocked out in a bar fight tells you to run.)

→ pairing: namjoon x f. reader → genre: zombie!au | crack, smut → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol, a guy gets pushy in a bar, this results in a bar fight (mentioned broken bones, but nothing is described in explicit detail), vague american setting in order to drag the us healthcare system, side vmin, taehyung has klepto tendencies but he steals from wal-mart so it’s fine, really mid smut including: kissing, very slight dom!joon, grinding/thigh riding, implied oral (f. receiving), fingering, reader drops a bryce harper quote during sex, namjoon’s dick is big but we knew that, this is cancelled out by his horrible dirty talk, unprotected sex, vmin’s dumpling fight but make it settlers of catan. this is technically a zombie fic, but the circumstances are 99% in the background. there is nothing gory here, just sort of found family vibes centered around an apocalypse. also when i said the smut is mid i meant it. everyone has himbo tendencies except yoonjin. → wordcount: 11k → a/n: started this forever ago after doing one of those twt pause games on who i’d be stuck with in the zombie apocalypse. my result was vmin & namjoon, which birthed the idea of vmin spending the entire apocalypse subtly trying to convince you to sacrifice yourself for them. i was going to publish the draft of this on halloween but decided to finish it, went into a trance, and added 9k words, so please accept my late and humble offering. → thank yous: lauren, bee, and jess as always for all of their help: beta’ing, general feedback, constructive criticism, telling me when my shit doesn’t make sense. @effortandmore / @hot-soop / @the-boy-meets-evil

Any bartender worth their salt knows you don’t mix tequila and brandy.

Jimin, apparently, is only worth enough salt to rim a margarita glass.

All because he’s chaos incarnate: an absolute hellion of a person who causes problems just because. The type of person who calls a drink something innocuous like Tipsy Meow because it sounds sweet and he knows it’ll get people to order it. Sometimes he even serves them in glasses with cats painted on them, which is really cute and endearing and gets people to order that drink in the cute cat glass despite the fact that that drink in the cute cat glass is tequila and brandy.

In any other bar, that drink would be called something appropriate and applicable, like a Knockout.

Because that’s what it does—starts bar fights.

Which Jimin knows, because he’s actually a very competent bartender, but he likes to cause problems on purpose, especially on Tuesday nights when there’s not much else going on.

“Why did you do that?” Yoongi asks, watching some poor, unsuspecting woman practically skip back to her table with two Tipsy Meows in hand.

Jimin just smiles and shrugs. “Because,” he answers, eyes twinkling with something underhanded, “that tall guy at the high-top? He’s been eyeing her all night. She wouldn’t go for it on a good day, but after one of those?” A low whistle under his breath.

Yoongi just stares. He’s known Jimin a long time, going on six years now, so he’s never truly surprised at how duplicitous he can be, but sometimes he pretends for appearance’s sake. “Evil.”

“Not evil,” Jimin retorts, eyes rolled, “just bored.”

Snorting, Yoongi whips the towel off his shoulder and starts wiping down the bar. “Then do a fucking crossword puzzle.”

Jimin waves him away. “I’m not good at them. I’m good at this.”

“Getting people to fight in our bar?” Yoongi clarifies. Jimin nods. They stare at each other for a minute before Yoongi shrugs and finds some menial task to busy himself with. “Whatever. You’re on clean-up duty, though. The last time you pulled this shit, I was sweeping up glass for three fuckin’ days.”

Because he’s chaos incarnate, Jimin’s response is a sarcastic salute, two fingers pressed to his forehead as Yoongi flips him off in return.

Something is wrong.

You’ve been to this bar countless times, have always ordered the same thing. Always made sure to stick to your limits, because college had been both an exercise in adulting and maintaining a functioning liver.

Maybe it’s because the mint-haired guy didn’t make your drinks this time. Truthfully, you’ve been wary of him for a while, convinced he’s been watering them down just to get you to buy more. Not that you’re complaining. In all the years you’ve been coming here, you’ve never made a fool of yourself.

Now, though?

Now you’re very rapidly approaching find the nearest trashcan ASAP territory. I’m going to regret this in the morning territory. This hasn’t happened since that frat party sophomore year territory.

Yeah, that party. You’d drank something god-awful that night, too. Got roped into a game of strip poker in a seedy basement and walked away with $2,000, three nickels, and a half-used KFC gift card, only down a sock. Some douchebag frat bro hadn’t liked that very much, accused you of cheating and gave you a real hard time about it. Long story short, you’d been fueled by too many of the suspicious drinks and knocked him out.

This feels a lot like that.

Because you’re drunk, yes, but there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. Something that’s itching for a fight. Something that’s been dormant for a long time.

(This is a startling realization, because you’re not a violent person, despite all evidence to the contrary. You’ve only ever thrown one punch in your life. It’s really not your fault that it wound up being the punch heard ‘round the world.)

Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it. Your sixth grade history teacher had that quote hung on the wall and you haven’t thought about it until now. Because there’s a guy approaching your table—probably six-foot, wearing an expensive watch and polished shoes—and he’s been eyeing your friend all night. Had made a few crude comments to his buddies that you’d regretfully overheard, and you’re all out of sorts because the mint-haired bartender hadn’t made your drinks, so he’s nearly got his elbows on the table when you say—

“Fuck off, asshole.”

Both your friend and the guy look equally shocked. “Excuse me?” he says, looking back to the idiots at his table in disbelief.

You roll your eyes, blood beginning to boil. “I said fuck off. She’s not interested.”

“And she can’t speak for herself?” he retorts, all faux-chivalry now that everyone’s attention is on him, even though the bar is practically deserted at nine o’clock on a Tuesday. “Your friend’s a little uptight, huh?” he says, shifting his attention fully away from you.

God, you always do this—befriend the most wholesome people in the room. The ones who always assume the best in others; the ones who can’t say no; the ones who feel guilty speaking up. This friend is no different. Looks at you like a deer about to get rearranged by a car, all wide, panicked eyes and a tight-lipped smile, only polite out of obligation.

What happens next is shocking to everyone except Jimin and Yoongi. Safe behind the bar, the two of them watch as you tell the man to fuck off one more time. He refuses, his attention still laser-focused on your friend, reaching for her. Someone appears to his left—another stranger, this one taller and wider in all the right places and exuding far less scumbag energy—and places a large hand on his shoulder. Leans down to say something to him that you don’t catch. Whatever it is, you’re assuming it’s said in that brand of tense politeness men use with other men before they threaten to knock them out.

Regardless of what’s said, the original douchebag just snorts derisively, jutting his shoulder backwards to get the stranger’s hand off of him. This really bothers you, for all the obvious reasons. Why can’t this idiot take no for an answer? What’s his fucking deal?

Apparently you voice the latter out loud, and the bastard is laughing again, lips turned upwards in an ugly little sneer. Far too quickly, you go from bothered but mostly in control to seeing red and cocking back. All because the mint-haired bartender hadn’t mixed your drinks. Now you’re punching some pushy asshole in the jaw and are probably going to get arrested.

“Oh shit,” you hear, but it sounds like you’re underwater. It’s certainly not a voice you recognize, but you only know one person in this bar and you just punched someone to make sure she didn’t get harassed by some asshole who couldn’t take a fucking hint.

Pain erupts in your hand. There’s probably something broken, maybe multiple somethings, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it before someone’s grabbing you by the elbow and dragging you out of the bar.

A shame, you think; you’d really like to see how much of a pissbaby that guy turns into when he catches sight of his own blood.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

You groan. Whatever room you’re in is far too bright and far too loud, which means you’re probably at home already being lectured by Hoseok. You crack an eye open, and—yep, that’s Hoseok, usual human embodiment of sunshine who is now staring at you like a grumpy little rain cloud. “What’re you talking about?” you grumble, fingers flying to your temples to ease some of the throbbing pain.

Hoseok must be pretty pissed, because he just watches you clutch at your aching head and doesn’t say a word. Usually you can guilt trip him into making you coffee and buttered toast. Grabbing you some pain killers, at the very least, but he’s not budging. You swallow hard.

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

“Not really,” you answer. You’ve been awake for approximately three seconds and your two brain cells haven’t connected to form a rational thought yet, let alone conjure up whatever shenanigans you got into the night before. “I think I went out for drinks with the new hire from work, but that’s it.”

“Mehmehmeh but that’s it,” Hoseok mimics under his breath, voice pitched far too high to ever pass as yours, looking more and more incensed by the second. Everyone told you he’d be too neurotic to live with. You should’ve listened. “Do you remember drinking too much and punching a guy?”

Ah, that would explain why your hand is fifty shades of purple, you think. “Ah, that would explain why my hand is fifty shades of purple,” you say.

Hoseok looks like he’s ready to explode. “Can you fucking take this seriously,” he seethes. “You’re too old to be getting wasted and starting bar fights! What in the actual fuck is wrong with you? You broke a man’s nose, you fucking maniac! What if he calls the cops? God, what if he sues you? Do you have lawsuit money? Because I sure as fuck don’t, not that I would bail you out of jail for this, anyway, because you don’t deserve it—”

“I broke someone’s nose?” Far too late, you realize you should’ve kept that proud wonder out of your voice.

Hoseok’s up and screeching before you can plug your ears. “You are un-fucking-believable! I have to leave. I can’t sit here another second and listen to this.” He’s fussing over his clothes and hair as soon as he’s on his feet, distress seeping out of every pore. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot and I made sure to save you two slices of bread,” he grits out, as if it’s causing him immense pain to be nice to you right now, before adding, “and there’s also aspirin and water on your nightstand. I would not recommend taking it on an empty stomach.”

And then he’s gone.

You microwave the mug of coffee and choke down the toast that’s grown suspiciously hard. You swallow two aspirin with coffee even though you know better and should be drinking the water, but the water has been sitting out for god knows how long and probably has dust particles and other gross things in it. You take a long shower to wash away the bar grime and hangover remnants and nearly crumble to the floor in pain when you try to wash your hair.

Right, your hand.

It’d been easy enough to ignore when you were focusing on not vomiting and taking your painkillers, but not so much anymore. Even if Hoseok hadn’t told you you’d punched someone, you could’ve pieced that much together—the bruising is severe and the swelling even more so. Trying to bend your fingers feels like a fate worse than death, so you salvage your shower as best you can before getting dressed one-handed and ordering an Uber to the nearest urgent care.

Which, much to your horror, is packed.

Every seat is taken except for one next to a man with a baseball cap pulled low and a thawed-out ice pack in his hand. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you sit next to him, and you’re almost offended until you spot the AirPods in his ears. God, he must’ve been here forever if he’s brave enough to plug his ears in a place that unashamedly sends you to the back of the line if you don’t answer when your name is called.

You need to know what you’re getting into, so you tap him on the shoulder and ask, “Hey, how long have you been here?”

The man seems flustered. He reaches for his phone and sends it plummeting to the floor, and when he retrieves it you notice the screen is cracked to hell so this must be a common occurrence. “Oh, uh. I’m not sure,” he says, voice all nasally like he’s got a bad cold. “Maybe two hours or so?”

You groan. “Two hours? Are you for real?” He just nods, still not meeting your eye. You pull out your phone, too, then, and put in the web address for the hospital. “D’you think the wait times are less shitty at the ER?”

“Maybe.”

“You didn’t look? No offense, but you sound pretty awful. I figured you’d want to get whatever it is taken care of sooner rather than later.”

The man snorts. Sounds painful. “Yeah, well. I work at a shitty nonprofit and the only insurance tier I could afford had a two-thousand-dollar deductible, so I’ll take my chances here.”

You hum in sympathy. “Do you believe in karma and reincarnation and all that? Because I do, and I think I must’ve been pretty fucking terrible in a past life to be born in a country without free healthcare in this lifetime.” The man beside you grunts in agreement. “Like, shit. What if I was Norwegian in a past life? Or, like, Canadian?”

“Only worth being Canadian if you’re not Indigenous.”

“Hm, yeah, that’s true. What human rights violations have the Norwegians committed?”

“No clue.”

“I’m gonna Google it,” you decide. Then, a second later, “Not great being Indigenous in Norway, either.”

“Is everyone shitty?” the man asks, pressing the warm ice pack back to his face. You wince on his behalf.

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him pause his music. An album cover you don’t recognize, because this guy definitely strikes you as the underground type: paid Spotify account with immaculate playlists full of artists no one else has heard of, either. Probably imports half of his own shit, too, so his playlists only work on his own phone and everyone yells at him when they try to play his playlists and get nothing but silence.

“What about you?” he asks, and it’s a question that should sound greasy but just sounds really sad with his clogged nose. “Are you shitty?”

“Yep,” you answer instantly, holding up your hand. You’d managed to wrangle an elastic bandage around it, but the bruising is obvious and not easily hidden.

The man whistles. “Damn, how’d you do that?”

“Punched a guy in a bar fight, apparently.”

In hindsight, it should be obvious, the cruel joke the universe is playing on you: you, with your mottled, probably-broken hand; the man next to you, with a black eye and an ice pack pressed to his nose. Right church, wrong pew, your mother always used to say about you, and you’d taken it then as a nod to your creativity and ingenuity, but now you’re thinking you might just be fucking stupid.

Because the atmosphere immediately shifts. The man goes stiff, pauses, tenses his shoulders. Then he asks, “Yeah? What bar? I might’ve heard about it.”

And you might be fucking stupid but you’re not dumb, so you just shrug. “Oh, I don’t know,” you reply, doing your best impression of a person with nothing between their ears. “My coworker dragged me out, and I like her fine, y’know, but if I’m being honest, I don’t know how long she’s gonna last. I think she’s too nice. Well, I thought she was too nice, but then she invited me out for drinks and invited me to this crazy bar with horrible, violent people—”

“And you punched someone,” the man finishes for you, cutting short your tirade.

“Supposedly punched someone,” you correct. “I have no recollection of it, but that’s what my roommate said. He was shrieking and used his Serious Mom Voice so I’m inclined to believe him, though.” You try to wiggle your fingers and have to suppress a scream. “Plus I can’t move my hand, so there’s that.”

This is the part where you get yelled at. You can feel it. The man beside you is about to blow up, demand your name and phone number so he can report you for assault, probably also demand some money because he’d just talked about his god-awful insurance and you’re the entire reason he’s here, but the universe may be cruel but it’s also fair, because—

“Nam…joon?” a bored medical assistant calls out. The man startles, curses under his breath that no one even attempts to pronounce his name correctly, drops his phone again, and if you weren’t glued to your chair in fear you might’ve picked it up for him.

Namjoon stands—he’s fucking massive, and if this is the guy you actually punched, you’ll spare a second later to marvel at yourself—and looks down at you. Sends you the meanest, most murderous glare he can muster, clenched jaw and all, and then he’s disappearing behind a door.

You… feel bad.

It’s not like you’d meant to punch him. You hadn’t wanted to punch anyone! And that has to count for something, so when he comes back out you’ll plead your case and offer to buy him a late lunch, because if he’d been waiting hours you’ll be waiting longer, and maybe he’ll find you just endearing enough to forget that you’d broken his nose and the two of you will become friends. You’ll do the Best Person speech at his wedding and laugh about the time you’d punched him, or maybe you’d be marrying him and—

Pump the brakes.

You love a good enemies-to-lovers, but maybe not so much in real life.

The wait is torturous.

An hour ticks by. You text Hoseok, tell him about the man you’d met and ask if he thinks it’s The Guy, and Hoseok writes back with a very pointed, I fucking hope it is. You’re not sure what that means. Does he hope Namjoon is the guy so you can apologize? So you can make sure he’s okay? Surely he wouldn’t be hoping for Namjoon to even the score and break your nose, too, but he was really mad this morning so you wouldn’t put it past him.

Another half hour. If you’d been paying attention, you would’ve realized how eerily quiet the waiting room has grown. No idle chatter, no coughing, no pained groans. People seem to be going in but not coming out, and you’ve been paying attention to that much, at least, so you can catch Namjoon.

And then the door slams open.

Namjoon stands there, nose stuffed with a cartoonish amount of gauze and a large splint across the bridge. He’s breathing hard. Looks like he’d just ran a marathon, which doesn’t make sense because how large can the backend of an urgent care really be, but then his eyes found you and—

“Run,” is all he says.

Nothing good happens when a man you’d accidentally knocked out in a bar fight tells you to run. Fucking stupid but not dumb, though, so you’re up and out of your seat before he can repeat himself.

Although you’re not sure where you’re supposed to go. You’d taken an Uber, and you can’t really order an emergency one of those. Besides, all Namjoon had said was run but not why, so you’re also not sure if it even is an emergency.

So here you are, standing in the middle of the parking lot like a bozo while Namjoon fumbles with the keys to a pickup truck. “Hey!” you call out, stomping towards him. “Are you gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on?”

Namjoon looks up only long enough to catch your eye. “You need to get out of here,” is all he says. Which is supremely and deservedly unhelpful.

“Why? I ca—I took an Uber here, I don’t have a car. I don’t know where I’m supposed to go or why I had to run out of there or if this is DEFCON 5 or DEFCON 1—”

“One,” Namjoon answers. “It’s definitely DEFCON 1.” Door unlocked, Namjoon meets your gaze again, deadly serious. “I’m not fucking around. You need to get out of here. Right now.”

This has to be a joke. He’s mad you’d broken his nose and now he’s getting his revenge. Still, you’re not all that keen to pay hundreds of dollars in medical bills for them to tell you something you already know, so you’ll play along. “Fine. Can I get a ride, then?”

“No.”

“So it’s an emergency but you won’t give me a ride.”

Namjoon glares at you. “You broke my fucking nose!”

“But I also broke my own hand, so we’re even.” It’s absolutely not a fair trade, but Namjoon seems to chew it over nonetheless. “Hey, c’mon, you wouldn’t leave me here! You’d feel too guilty.”

“How would you know?”

“Because you work at a nonprofit and care about human rights violations, and I am a human with rights, and it’d definitely be a violation to leave me here in a DEFCON 1-level emergency when I don’t even know what’s going on—”

Namjoon slaps a hand over your mouth. A large hand. A very, very large hand that easily covers half of your face. You’ll blame your pathetic whimper on fear. “I saw some shit in there, okay?”

“What kind of shit, though. Urgent cares are weird. Ominous little vortexes where reality is altered. You ever been in one at night? Like 28 Days Later vibes—”

“Yes!” Namjoon snaps his fingers. “Yes, that! Exactly like that!”

Your relief is palpable. You sag a little. “Oh! So it was just weird in there? What, did you get a creepy doctor or something?”

“No.” He groans. Runs his hands down his face. “Not the vibes part, the—”

“The zombie part?” you whisper.

Just then, the entrance slams open, people pouring into the parking lot. Most are screaming, which prompts you to scream in response, so Namjoon screams too and drops his keys. You’re picking them up before you can think twice, pulling the door open and pushing him inside of the truck. There’s something to be said about the way you manhandle him, how ripped his back feels through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the view of his ass as he climbs over the center and into the passenger seat, but whatever weird shit is going on takes precedence.

You climb in behind him. Shut the door and lock it, and then you’re rolling down the window to adjust the side mirrors while Namjoon just shoots you an exasperated look. “We don’t have time for this!”

“Do you want us to crash and die? I’ve seen movies like this, okay, and someone always dies some stupid, avoidable death because they forget something obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s usually don’t read the weird Latin incantation in that book or don’t go outside to investigate weird noises, not checking your mirrors!” He pauses. “Hey, wait! They’re not even your mirrors! You’re fucking up all my shit!”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. I’m getting us out of here.”

During Namjoon’s stunned silence, you turn the ignition and peel out of the parking lot as best you can with one good hand, tailspinning onto the main road, tires squealing. “That was… kind of hot.”

“What, me telling you to shut up or my driving?”

“...Both?”

“I—yeah, that’s fair. You’re big, but you seem like the type to enjoy getting pushed around.” Namjoon stays quiet, and when you dare a glance over at him, his cheeks are red. “Did you get a boner when I punched you?”

That actually gets a laugh out of him. “Don’t go there.” You shrug.

The two of you drive for a while. There’s nothing in the rearview mirror. No one behind you. Really, the world around you seems normal, quiet, still. It almost has you second-guessing everything you’d seen, all the things Namjoon had said. And you don’t know him beyond breaking his nose, but everything in you is screaming to trust him.

So you do.

“Hey, do you mind if we swing by my place? It’s, like, two minutes away, and I should probably grab some stuff.”

Namjoon just shrugs.

Surprisingly, there’s very little time to panic. Namjoon sets about grabbing whatever he can from the kitchen and the bathroom while you shove clothes into a large duffel. You grab your laptop and chargers and Namjoon’s scoff is loud when you ask if you should bring your vibrator, too, but he doesn’t say no, so into the bag it goes.

Hoseok comes home in the midst of your ransacking. You meet him in the living room and, aside from the small look of confusion, he seems much happier to see you than he’d been this morning. “Hi,” he says. Sounds normal, too. Doesn’t sound like he’d seen some weird apocalypse shit outside. “Where is there a tall man in our kitchen shoving all our food into bags?”

“Ah, right, that.” You suck in a breath. “Hobi, go pack up whatever you care about and meet us back here in five minutes. There’s some Train to Busan shit going on and we’ve gotta get moving.”

“Yo, what the fuck!” Namjoon yells from the kitchen. “Are you just saying that because I’m Korean?”

Hoseok had looked dubious before, but seems to fall into blind trust upon hearing the strange, tall man in his kitchen is also Korean. “Hey, me too!” When Namjoon comes skittering into the living room, they shoot matching finger guns at one another and do a weird bro-dap. “Oh!” Hoseok says, recognition blooming. “Are you the guy? The nose guy?”

Namjoon just glares at you.

“That’s him,” you answer instead. “Go pack, please. I’m serious.”

Hoseok is scared of everything: spiders, his shadow, carousel animals, your neighbor’s dog because it’s fifteen years old and blind and lost half its fur. He once had nightmares for a week after you’d made him watch the first Goosebumps movie and insisted on sleeping in your room. Had nightmares again after he saw a particularly sinister Squishmallow at Wal-Mart. So, yeah. It’s imperative you convince him to come with you because he stands no chance on his own.

You don’t expect him to shrug and go off to pack.

“Hey, did one of you grab any ibuprofen?”

“Yeah, got it,” Namjoon replies.

“What about allergy medicine? I get really bad sinus headaches so I’ll be miserable without it, but if it’s too much I guess I could—”

“Pack it,” you shout back.

There’s a loud crash from his room. Another smaller one seconds later. “I’m fine!” he calls out. “Hey, cool! I found a bag of Twizzlers!”

“Hoseok—”

“Bring the Twizzlers, please!” Namjoon says, cheeks warming again. “What? I like them.”

It’s your turn to glare. “If I get eaten over some goddamn Twizzlers.”

“At least you’d be strawberry flavored?” Namjoon offers, as unhelpful as ever. Then, before you can respond, “Hey, man, are you almost ready? I texted my roommate and he’s good to go but I still need to pack up all my shit, too.”

“One sec!”

Approximately fifteen seconds later, Hoseok reappears in your living room with a bookbag, a duffel bag, and an oversized rolling suitcase.

“This isn’t a vacation, Hobi,” you deadpan.

He looks at you like you’re a moron. Fucking stupid but not dumb, you remind yourself. “Okay, but I’m not leaving all my nice clothes here to get eaten by zombie moths or whatever. There’s Off-White in here.”

Namjoon nods in understanding. “Valid.”

It’s not worth the argument. The three of you pile back into Namjoon’s truck, you stuck in the middle of the bench seat this time while Namjoon drives. Hoseok babbles the entire way, seemingly unfazed by this bizarre situation in which you’ve found yourselves. He tells you about the cafe he’d met a friend at, the latte he ordered and didn’t like. You can only tell he’s starting to get nervous because he devolves into more and more unhinged chatter. One second he’s telling you about a dog he saw wearing a little sweater and the next he’s rattling off the digits to his social security number.

“Forget you heard that,” you say to Namjoon.

He looks pained as he replies, “Unfortunately I have a god-tier echoic memory so I am physically incapable of doing that.” He feels your stare. “I’m really sorry, I can’t help it! Tell me something else so I forget it!”

“Okay: I think you’re about to run over that guy.”

Namjoon jerks his eyes back to the road and gasps, hitting the brakes so hard Hobi nearly goes flying into the dashboard. He’s moaning, bitching about his seatbelt probably breaking a few ribs, and the tiny man standing in the road in front of you hasn’t budged an inch. Stared death right in the eye and dared it to take him.

“Fucking Jimin,” Namjoon curses. At both your and Hoseok’s blank stares, he clarifies, “My roommate.”

“Is that seriously your roommate?” Hoseok asks, still pressing against his ribs to check for fractures.

Namjoon, huffing and puffing and finally at a complete stop, just nods. “Yeah.”

Hoseok is finally silent. Then, “That tiny, terrifying little man is your roommate and you managed to get knocked out in a bar fight? What, was he busy that night?”

There’s an obvious reply on the tip of Namjoon’s tongue, but before he can spit it out the tiny man is banging his fist against the window. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” he screams. “Open the door so I can kill you! Did you not see me? I told you I’d be waiting by the mailbox! I even packed all your shit for you and this is how you repay me, by almost hitting me with your stupid truck? You’re fucking cra—wait, who are these people?”

Hoseok, obviously scared shitless, grimaces as he waves hesitantly. “Hi!” you say, though Namjoon’s roommate probably can’t hear you through the thick glass. “I’m the person who broke his nose!”

Then the roommate is smiling. “Oh, that was you? You look different than I remember.”

When you look to Namjoon for answers, you find him slumped against the steering wheel. “Jimin’s a bartender,” is the only explanation you get.

You look out the window again. Small, but no mint-colored hair. “Ah, I had my suspicions about him. …I think.”

Namjoon cranks down the window just enough to tell Jimin he’ll have to hop in the bed with all the luggage, and then the four of you are off again. There’s one more stop, to Jimin’s boyfriend’s place to pick up him and his roommate, and all you can do is hope one of them has a larger vehicle.

Just like before, this drive is suspiciously unremarkable. You’ve long since resigned yourself to believing Namjoon and what little he’d told you, but you can tell Hoseok’s skeptical. Along for the ride, of course, because there’s always the small chance you hadn’t been lying and then he would’ve been knee-deep in shit, but skeptical nonetheless.

“Can I just ask—are you sure about this?” He’s looking out the window. Looking at all the normal cars and houses and businesses. Nothing about the outside world screams looming zombie apocalypse at all. “It seems pretty quiet.”

Namjoon sighs. Grips the steering wheel a little tighter, knuckles flashing white, but he seems okay. Adrenaline, maybe. It’ll hit later. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You saw something?” Hoseok prods.

“I—” He nudges you. “Did you notice how most of the people in the waiting room just seemed to have bad colds? Sneezing, coughing, all that?” You nod. “I didn’t really think anything of it since it’s still flu season, but once I got called back, everything just felt… off.”

He sucks in a breath. Keeps driving. Keeps talking. The nurse who’d taken his vitals seemed exhausted. Cracked some joke about being glad Namjoon was there for a broken nose and not whatever respiratory thing was going around. Told him a doctor would be in shortly to patch him up, and when she left his room she hadn’t shut the door all the way. Left enough of a crack for Namjoon to see what was going on: frazzled nurses and doctors and techs huddled around, panicking. Namjoon thinks someone called for an ambulance.

True to her word, a doctor did come in to pack and splint his nose. Then, in the middle of jotting down the name and phone number of his pharmacy, a scream.

“An old man came in. I saw him when they took me back. He was just sitting on a bed because it was so crowded, wasn’t in a room. I guess at some point he passed out. Didn’t have a pulse. I think he was who they called the ambulance for, but while I was waiting for the doctor I kept hearing this weird moaning.”

Hoseok shudders. “Yeah, I know where this is going.”

“Right. So the doctor comes in, fixes me up, and next thing I know, someone’s screaming. Guess that old dude wasn’t as dead as they thought he was.”

“Could they have been wrong?” you ask tentatively. It’s so quiet outside, maybe everyone had just—

“No,” Namjoon says, and he does it with so much conviction you don’t argue further. Jimin bangs on the back windshield, holding his phone up to it so you can see.

It’s all over Twitter. Not even Facebook, where you’d expect a zombie apocalypse conspiracy to begin. No, there are posts all over Twitter and Instagram and even the local news station’s website. Hoseok looks a little green.

“Okay, so it’s definitely real and this is definitely happening,” you mutter. “Does anyone have a plan?”

There’s no plan.

Not even in a hyperbolic, we say we have no plan, but somehow we’ve conveniently got a small arsenal of weapons, kind of way. There’s simply no plan.

Jimin’s boyfriend is named Taehyung. They have a needlessly tearful reunion, and you wait in Taehyung’s tiny kitchen for twenty minutes while he packs. He’s roommates with the mint-haired bartender that you like. His name is Yoongi. He has all his stuff packed and waiting by the front door, and you like him so much more for it.

“Should I pack condoms?” Taehyung yells from his bedroom.

“Are you fucking ser—” Yoongi starts, then seems to come to a realization. “Yeah. Yes, you absolutely should.”

“‘Kay! Be out in a sec!”

Namjoon appears then, in the midst of shoving his battered phone in his pocket. He looks around the room, taking stock, and his eyebrows knit in confusion. Fuck, he’s so hot and you’re taking the express train to hell for thinking it. “Hey, has anyone seen Jimin?”

Jimin and Taehyung are gone. There are weird noises coming from the direction of Taehyung’s room. Yoongi looks positively haunted. “Sorry!” Jimin calls out. “Be out in a sec!”

“Tae said that exact thing five minutes ago!”

“Are you calling him a liar?” Jimin yells back. Sounds genuinely angry and genuinely prepared to defend Taehyung’s honor. You’ve never met a tinier, scarier person.

“I’m calling you both zombie food!”

Hoseok sidles up next to you. “Is it just me or is that other tiny man really hot?”

“His name’s Yoongi,” you tell him.

Hoseok just sighs, like he’s carrying all of the world’s burdens on his thin shoulders. “I’m learning a lot about myself.”

You watch him mentally tabulate through all the stages of grief while Namjoon and Yoongi think up a plan. Namjoon’s large but clumsy and mostly useless, and Yoongi is small and deadly. You can hold your own, they decide, so Yoongi adopts Hoseok and Namjoon becomes your problem.

“Wait a second,” Hoseok almost wails. “Why can’t I stay with her? She’s my roommate!”

Yoongi looks offended. Probably is. “You don’t think I can defend you?”

Hoseok flushes crimson. “I-I didn’t say that…”

He’s halfway through a stuttered, awkward apology when Jimin and Taehyung appear, not at all looking like they’d just been getting off together. Sure, Jimin’s hair is a little mussed, but Taehyung—

Taehyung is only holding a box.

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Taehyung.”

“Please don’t use that tone of voice with me,” Taehyung whines. “You know this is my emotional support jigsaw puzzle.”

“All you’re bringing is a jigsaw puzzle?”

“And condoms!”

“You’re not bringing any clothes? Medicine? Food?” Namjoon asks, because he might not be the oldest but he has the most overworked single mother energy out of all of you. “Jimin, go help him pack a bag of clothes, at least. Yoongi, can you grab any extra house stuff and toiletries you have laying around? Laundry detergent, soap, shampoo.”

Taehyung scoffs, sound dissipating as he disappears back down the hallway. “We can just steal that stuff.”

Hoseok looks like he’s about to pass out. “I am not turning into a criminal!”

He does.

You all do.

The six of you pile into two separate vehicles—you and Hoseok with Namjoon again in his truck, and Jimin and Taehyung behind you in Yoongi’s beater car. The plan is to drive to Namjoon’s cousin’s house in the middle of nowhere and bunker down there for a while. It’s plenty big—“His parents are politicians, so he’s got money,” was Namjoon’s explanation—and far enough outside of the city that it should buy you enough time to come up with something better.

Step one, though: Wal-Mart.

“Don’t worry, I steal from here all the time,” Taehyung says, breezing to the front of the pack like he’s leading the rest of you into war. Yoongi throws his hands up. Jimin looks lovestruck.

Hoseok hangs back by the cars, still traumatized from the Squishmallow experience, and you stay with him. You’ve seen Zombieland, and you won’t be able to do much fighting with a broken hand. At best you’d be able to fire a gun or whack someone with a pipe, but you’re not trying to go kamikaze mode on some innocent bastard in a Wal-Mart who’s also just trying to survive.

You’ve known Hoseok for a long time—since your sophomore year of college, when he was failing the stats class you shared and you took pity on him and offered some tutoring—so you’ve seen him in various states of distress. You know all of his tells, and the way he’s gnawing at his cuticles is a glaring one.

“Hobi, hey,” you say, moving to gently pull his hand away from his mouth. “Try to relax, okay? Don’t make yourself bleed.”

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick,” he replies. Anguish is clear on his face. “Everything feels fucking overwhelming and scary.”

“I know. I know it does, but if we’re gonna get through this we’re gonna need you, all right?” He nods but he’s shaking, still looking tormented and green around the edges. You pull him into a hug that has him nearly sagging in defeat.

Slowly, your shoulder grows wet and warm. Hoseok’s crying, body shaking from the weight of all his fear, and all you can do is hold him. “You’re my best friend, Hoseok,” you whisper into his hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You feel him nod. Then, in the smallest voice, “Yoongi too?”

Figures. Hoseok’s a horny little demon at the best of times—the thin walls of your apartment can attest to that—so it makes sense that impending doom would exacerbate it. “Sure, Hobi,” you assure him, scratching softly at his scalp.

You get him calmed down. Tucked into the backseat of Yoongi’s car so he can lay down. He’s asleep not long after, fatigue finally catching up, and you just stay. Park your ass at the edge of the seat, leave the door open, waiting. There’s a gentle, warm breeze, and you wish you could bottle it. Wish you could do more in this moment than just experience it, because it’s the last chance you’ll have at something resembling normalcy.

You might never be able to hug Hoseok in a parking lot again.

“We’re back!”

You look up, not at all surprised to see Taehyung skipping towards you, arms full of stolen goods. “I see that. What’d you get?”

“Oh, a lot of stuff,” he answers. Yoongi pops the trunk of his car and they set about shoving it all inside. “It was packed in there! Felt like Black Friday, except everyone was fighting over bread instead of ultra hi-def TVs.”

Wary, you look over your motley crew. “Are you all okay?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi answers, voice gruff. “It was mostly civilized. Don’t think people really realize what’s going on yet. Is Hoseok sleeping?”

You nod. “He, uh—had a moment? He got really upset, so he’s sleeping it off… if that’s okay?”

Yoongi just shrugs. “Yeah, whatever. Who’s riding with me?”

“Me,” Jimin says. “I’m not taking the bitch seat in the truck.” Taehyung immediately pouts, some unspoken bond clearly broken now, and Jimin scoffs. “Don’t pout at me. You know my ass requires a full seat.”

“But—”

Namjoon pointedly slams Yoongi’s trunk closed. Hoseok doesn’t stir an inch. “Jin’s expecting us so we need to get moving. Taehyung, shut up and get in the truck.” Then, to you: “Guess you’re with me again.”

Fine by you, especially since Namjoon ripped the sleeves off his shirt.

Not even Namjoon’s arms can salvage this drive.

Taehyung fiddles with the radio the whole time. Flips between radio stations that are all depressing carbon copies of one another. Complains that Namjoon’s truck is too old to have a CD player and that he doesn’t know how to work cassette tapes. Complains endlessly about Namjoon’s driving, too, although you can’t really blame him for that one.

“Hey,” he eventually says, elbowing you a little too hard in your side. “I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but—”

Namjoon tries to snort and immediately regrets it. “I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but I’m about to say something extremely rude.”

“I was not!” Taehyung defends, but when you quirk an eyebrow at him to continue, he says, “Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for me and Jimin in the unlikely event that the three of us are cornered by a zombie and are facing imminent death and only two will survive? Because I think you should be.”

You blink. “Um.”

“It just makes the most sense logically,” he continues, as if he hadn’t just volunteered you to be a zombie chew toy. “Jimin and I are soulmates. Platonic and romantic. And you’re—” He pauses. “Um. New. And Jimin might not look like it because he’s small, but he’s scrappy and can easily protect me, which means you’re redundant. Not to mention your hand is broken, so.”

You study him. “So, what are you bringing to the table?” you ask. Taehyung looks at you like you’re stupid. “I’m just saying, if Jimin and I can both defend ourselves, why wouldn’t we team up in the name of long-term survival and ditch the weakest link, which would be you?”

Namjoon laughs loudly beside you. His whole body shakes with it, a sound somewhere between a guffaw and a dog panting, and it’s a nice contrast to the death glare Taehyung’s sending you. “Jimin wouldn’t do that to me.”

“People are unpredictable when they’re staring death in the face.”

Taehyung’s silent the rest of the way.

It hurts to admit it, but you’re rethinking your all-politicians-are-evil, eat-the-rich stance, because it starts like—

(Seokjin’s parents’ place is truly in the middle of nowhere and safeguarded to the nth degree, harder to get close to than Area 51. The house itself is deceptively large and modern, clapped in black-stained red cedar. Single-level. Expansive windows you’d thought were an oversight until you got closer and realized they were made of armored glass.

“Shit, is all of this really necessary?” you ask, stepping inside. There’s definitely insider trading going on here. “Are these people on the goddamn Supreme Court?”

“That’s not funny,” Namjoon says.

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure that”—you point to a nondescript door with an ominous symbol on it—”is some kind of rich people bomb shelter and the only politicians I know that would require this level of security are the I just voted to strip half the country of the ability to make their own reproductive decisions kind.”

Namjoon chokes.

“Gross,” a voice chimes from behind you. “Please don’t debase and sully my parents’ good name by even joking that they’re conservatives.”

Jesus, is everyone in this family stupidly attractive? The man before you is shorter than Namjoon but still tall, legs as long as his shoulders are wide. Hair styled neat but dyed blond. Kind eyes and plush lips, and there’s the Kim family resemblance.

“Hi, I’m Seokjin,” he says, offering you his hand. Definitely raised in a family of politicians. “I hear you’re the one who broke my cousin’s nose.”

“I, uh, might’ve done that, yeah.”

Seokjin smiles. “Cool. Welcome. Please make yourself at home and we’ll chat strategy later.”)

Which becomes—

(Later turns into days.

For the most part, life proceeds normally. Seokjin gets periodic updates from his parents who have left the country entirely—(“Damn, they just left you here?” someone asks, and that’s how you meet Jungkook)—about the government response, or lack thereof, along with whatever useless psychobabble the CDC is sending out. None of it bodes well for the future, so you spend most of your time trying to stay in the present. Right now, you’re okay. Right now, you’re with a group of people hellbent on staying alive. Right now, you have enough food and shelter in a house in the middle of nowhere with armored glass windows and a bomb shelter.

The eight of you eat meals together and play games and talk about your Before lives. You already knew Namjoon worked at a nonprofit and that Jimin and Yoongi owned a bar, but you learn Taehyung was in grad school for art therapy. Hoseok, of course, split his time between the dance studio and the streetwear boutique his sister owned. Seokjin was some bigwig corporate attorney.

Jungkook, of all things, played minor league baseball.

Needless to say there won’t be any scientific breakthroughs from any of you.

“I was supposed to go pro this year,” Jungkook huffs, forcefully grabbing the microphone for the karaoke machine. He’s been singing “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor for four days.

All things considered, you somehow managed to fall into the best possible outcome, even if one of Taehyung or Jimin still tries to convince you to sacrifice yourself at least six times a day.)

Which culminates in the one possible downside—

“Yoongi wants Hoseok to move into my room,” Namjoon says, appearing in the doorway of your (now-solo, apparently) room. He takes up nearly the entire frame. It makes you feel a little lightheaded.

“Oh,” you reply stupidly. “Okay. Are you here for his stuff?”

“No, I’m here to ask if I can move in with you. I’m not really interested in spending the rest of the zombie apocalypse third-wheeling.”

Sarcasm seems like your best defense. “Wow, after all we’ve been through. We’ve got a real enemies to lovers vibe going on. I’m pretty into it.”

Namjoon flushes down to his toes. “Haaa, what? We’re—that’s not—we’re not even lovers yet.”

You give him a second, but he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s said, so you can’t help but smirk, to press on the bruise just to watch him squeal. “Yet?”

Now he turns full-on crimson. “That’s not what I meant.”

Somehow he’s still cute, even with the yellow-green bruising beneath his eyes and his sheepish, hunched posture. Namjoon is the kind of guy that makes you feel bold, makes you want to mess him up, but he’s also the kind of cute that has you relenting, easing off.

“Sure,” you finally say. “You can move your stuff in here.”

He smiles, dimples flashing, and he’s only gone a few minutes so you have no time to catch your breath before he’s back, dumping his clothes on the bed to put them in the dresser. He doesn’t mention sleeping arrangements because there’s no point: all of the bedrooms have single, queen-sized beds. Naturally, you and Hoseok had bunked together with little fuss, having fallen asleep in each other’s beds a million times after years spent living together. You assume it’d been the same for Namjoon and Yoongi and their decades of friendship.

You’d joked about being enemies to lovers; clearly you’d chosen the wrong trope.

“How’s your nose?” you ask, wordlessly moving to help sort and refold the t-shirts as best you can. They smell nice: something soft and clean and inherently Namjoon.

“Still sore,” he answers. Says a small thank you when you push a stack of black tees towards him. “Jungkook’s been helping me with the packing.”

“He’s had a lot of broken noses?”

“He’s had a lot of broken everything.”

It hits you, then, how much of an outsider you are. That the six of them are all connected, have history. And Namjoon must notice, because he grows serious. Gets shy all over again when he says, “Hey, we’re all glad you and Hoseok are here.”

You snort. “Yeah, as a sacrifice.”

Namjoon laughs a little, too. “Taehyung’s only so insistent because he’s useless. He accidentally stepped on a stink bug once and cried. He’s not really built for something like this.”

“Are any of us?”

“You are, I think,” he says immediately, no hesitation. “You’ve been really calm, haven’t panicked at all. It’s helped me a lot—all of us, really.”

Oh, you’re embarrassed. “I have to be, living with someone like Hobi.” Why are you embarrassed? “One time he saw the red light on the coffee machine and slept in my room for a week because he thought there was a demon in our apartment.”

Namjoon can’t help himself. “Was there?”

You sigh, over-dramatic and theatrical. “No, just me.”

He laughs, loud and unashamed, but it sounds a lot more like everything’s going to be fine.

Hoseok had been a cuddler.

You’d always wake up with him wound around you like a snake, limbs akimbo as he snored quietly. But, like all things Hoseok did and does, there was grace in it. He kept a normal body temperature. He didn’t hog too much of the bed or the duvet. He didn’t kick you or elbow you in the side of the head. Aside from the cuddling, which has never really been your thing, Hoseok was a perfect bed-sharing partner.

The same cannot be said for Namjoon.

His broken nose has him snoring at obscene levels. It doesn’t lessen when you shove a pillow over your head, either, which is not the way you fantasized about going lightheaded in bed with him. Not to mention his stupidly large body is stupidly large and requires a lot of space. What had started as a clean split down the middle has you grasping to the edge, trying desperately not to fall off. Every time you try to inch closer to the center, Namjoon unconsciously protests and sends elbows flying, and arms that size can do a lot of damage. He sleeps so hot you always wake up in a thin sheen of sweat just from the proximity.

You’re not sure you sleep at all for the first three days.

And then things start to shift. Like your roommate, Namjoon is a cuddler too, but in vastly different ways. Hoseok’s would be subconscious—he never dared to touch you when he was awake out of respect for boundaries and personal space, but Namjoon doesn’t have those hangups. He climbs into bed one night and immediately fits himself to your back before asking if it’s okay, and yeah, of course it is. You couldn’t have waterboarded Hoseok into touching you purposely the way Namjoon does casually, so unthinking, just does what he wants.

It makes you ache.

So you become sleepless for other, new reasons.

His snoring lessens, gives way to these breathy little sounds that border on soft moans. Still obscene. He stops forcing you to the edge of the mattress and instead presses you into it, the weight of his massive body leaving you with nowhere else to go. Every time he touches you, either knowingly or not, he leaves trails of heat in his wake.

Even in sleep, Namjoon is a tease.

Sometimes his hands will drift—too close, too far, both simultaneously—and you feel your breath hitch, wondering if he’s awake, if he’s doing it on purpose. Sometimes you wake up with him wrapped around you, hard cock pressing into your ass, the small of your back. Sometimes he’ll rut once, twice, and come to and disappear to the opposite side of the bed in shame and embarrassment, leaving you frustrated and pretending to be asleep.

Because you’re not… sure.

You know you’re attracted to Namjoon. You know he’s some degree of attracted to you in return. But the outside world is so volatile, the situation you’re in so unstable, that you’re afraid to push. Afraid the delicate house of cards will come tumbling down, that you two will fuck to get it out of your systems and make things horribly awkward, ruin the good thing you’ve got going.

But you can only take so much, is the thing. There’s a very large man with a very large cock at your back and you’ve had enough of this game.

“Namjoon,” you say, rolling in his arms so you’re face to face. You poke him in the stomach when he doesn’t stir. “Namjoon.”

He jolts awake, hands immediately moving to you—checking that you’re still there, that you’re safe. “Wha’?” he slurs, voice thick with sleep, deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Wha’ happened?”

Now you feel awkward. He’s concerned with your safety in the midst of a fucking apocalypse and you’re just horny. Still, sometimes the only way out is through, so you blurt out, “Do you want to fuck me?”

That grabs his attention. He’s fully awake now, propped up on one elbow, gazing down at you like you’ve completely lost your mind. Fucking stupid but not dumb, like a mantra. “Uh.” He pauses. Swallows. Pushes sweaty hair off his forehead. “Did—did you, uh, get bit? Are you feeling okay?”

You glare, though it’s useless in the dark. “I’m fine. How’s your dick?” You dare a glance downward. Still hard is the answer.

Namjoon embarrasses easily in a way that is both horribly endearing and horribly inconvenient, because instead of feeding you some greasy line like want to find out? he’s reaching down to adjust himself in his sleep shorts, stumbling over apologies as he goes. “Shit, fuck, I’m so sorry, this is so awkward, I’m sorry—”

“Can you answer my question, please?”

Namjoon stills. Puts that giant brain to use. “Um. Which one? You asked me two.”

“Well, I can clearly see that your dick is still very hard, so let’s start with the first one.”

There’s a sound that you think is meant to sound like a laugh. A pained a-haaa that sounds more like Namjoon begging for divine intervention in the form of death. “The, uh, doIwanttofuckyou question?”

“That would be the one, yes.”

“Is… is there a wrong answer?”

“No.”

He nods, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It’s lewd, a cruel and unusual punishment for your fleeting moment of horny delirium. Gets even worse when he tugs the plush bottom one between his teeth, staring at you all the while. Sizing you up, it feels like. Deciding between what he wants to do and what he’s actually going to do.

Just like the last week of your life, everything goes from zero to one hundred in a split-second.

“Do you wanna talk about this first?” he asks. You’re just staring at one another and he already sounds fucked out. Obscene.

“What’s there to talk about?”

He reaches for you. Two fingers beneath your chin and a thumb on the hinge of your jaw to keep you where he wants you. “What you want.” Leans in, his lips so close to your ear. “What you don’t.”

Around you, the world narrows. Nothing exists outside of this bed. Not the weird house in the middle of the woods. Not the apocalypse. Not a goddamn thing except Namjoon and his big hands and the way he’s touching you. “Tell me what you want,” he says, words skimming along the column of your throat, “and I’ll do it.”

You wonder if he’s talking about big-picture shit or just sex. If he’s someone who needs something concrete to hold onto before he fucks or if it even matters anymore. Would he still want to sleep with you if you’d met under different circumstances that night at the bar, or is it just something to pass the time while you wait out the end of the world?

Although, you feel like the world might end if you don’t finally fuck this man, so maybe it doesn’t matter.

“I’m clean and I have an IUD I’ll have to figure out how to remove in three years if I live that long. I’m down for mostly anything as long as you ask first but I draw the line at most bodily fluids. Oh, also—don’t kiss me if your tongue goes anywhere near my ass. I think that’s it, though. What about you?”

Momentarily stunned, Namjoon’s hands stop moving. “I’ve never eaten ass before.”

“Oh. I mean, we totally can if you want to, but—really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because your lips are pornographic,” you admit, completely void of shame. “Like, you have the kind of mouth that looks like it’s done a lot of dirty things.”

Namjoon laughs. “You also said I look like I like getting pushed around.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Do you?”

He’s growing bold. His response is a low chuckle, more vibration than anything, and he reaches for you again. Seems like he can’t keep his hands off of you, needs to be touching you always, even before when it was harmless, and this time he goes for your hips. Fits his large hands to your waist, the tops of your thighs, presses his thumbs into your hip bones. “Most people don’t try.”

“Yeah, that tracks,” you reply dazedly.

His lips move to your neck, trace the neckline of your sleep shirt, dip below to nip at your collarbone. “Where’s your hand, baby?” he speaks into your skin. Finds what he’s looking for and pins your arm above your head, gently like you’ll break. You think you might. “You can push me around when you’re healed. Can I kiss you?”

You must nod, because Namjoon drags his lips from your throat to your jaw to the corner of your mouth, and then he’s pressing them to your own. This is gentle too, Namjoon careful with his own injury, and it’s not lost on you that this is your fault. You’re not going to get the filthy, primal fucking you want because you’d thrown a punch in a bar, but this isn’t a bad consolation prize, you think.

Because Namjoon is good at this. He’s easy to rile up but rock-solid once he pushes past it. And, sure, he kisses you gently, but he means it. Whimpers into your mouth like you’re doing him a favor, and you think you might be able to do this, just this, forever.

Your free hand fists the thin cotton of his shirt as he licks into your mouth. It should be gross, because it’s the middle of the night and you no longer have the luxury of your favorite toothpaste, but you find it hard to care when he drops his weight, that massive body of his pressing into you, against you in all the right ways. This time it’s you who whines, and it’s a small sound but it seems to drive Namjoon a little crazy.

“Wanna hear you,” he says, pulling back, and you’re about to ask him what that means, if he just wants you to start moaning like some bad porn, but then he’s grabbing your leg to wrap it around his waist and pressing his hips to you harder.

“Oh fuck,” you sigh. Even through his sleep shorts you can tell he’s big—big and really fucking hard. Forget a zombie apocalypse, you’re not sure you’ll survive this right here.

What Namjoon wants, Namjoon gets. You’re unabashed as he grinds his cock against your core, careless about your volume. You’ve suffered through almost everyone in this house either fucking or jerking off, and you can take a little ribbing, so you’re going to enjoy this. What’s the point in modesty if you’re all going to die, anyway?

So you just keep babbling, words spilling out of your mouth before you can filter them, writhing and whining all the while. “I know, baby,” Namjoon says, hands all over, mouth not far behind. “Keep going,” he urges, hands to your hips to move you the way he wants.

“Thigh,” you say, barely able to get the word out of your mouth with the way he’s moving against you. “Wan-wanna ride your thigh.”

He keens. “Shit, yeah, okay.”

Namjoon fucks like it’s the end of the world.

You get off on his thigh but he deems it not enough. Strips you bare and situates himself between your legs. Puts that sinful mouth to use and gets you off again. Asks you when the last time you had sex was and laughs at your answer, all condescending heat, and he uses the slick from you and his mouth to stretch you on three of his fingers.

You’re going to ruin this man’s hair once you have two working hands. Maybe just ruin him in general.

The build-up is dizzying. One second he’s slow and sensual, content to take you apart, continuously bring you to the edge just to yank you back—and the next is all feral urgency. He can’t make you come, can’t kick his shorts off, can’t peel his briefs down those thick thighs fast enough.

“Will you ride me?” he asks, so intent on taking your one rule to heart. As long as you ask first. But some things don’t need to be questioned, like when Hobi asks if you want to take an edible and watch the Spice Girls movie and will you sit on Namjoon’s massive dick.

You huff, already halfway in his lap. “Clown question, bro.”

As you sink down onto him, you understand why he’d laughed when you said it’d been awhile, why he got a little cocky. Three fingers hadn’t been anywhere near enough, but the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, is delicious.

“I was go—ah, fuck—gonna suggest you don’t ca-call me bro, but I don’t think I care when you feel this fucking good.”

“Yeah?” you stupidly ask, and you’re usually better at dirty talk, but there’s not much you can do when all of your brainpower is going towards riding the best cock you’ve ever had in your life. “Tell me.”

Namjoon moans, grips your hips to move you again. Back and forth at a steady, torturous pace. “Baby,” he whines. “Feels like one of those wa-water wiggler toys—”

Okay, so clearly neither of you are at your best right now.

And that’s how it goes. You brace yourself on Namjoon’s chest, nails of your good hand digging into his pec, your broken one held in his. Time seems to drag on forever and stop all at once, and you’re oversensitive and admittedly a little in pain and a lot exhausted so you’re probably not going to come again, but you find yourself dangerously close watching Namjoon chase his own orgasm.

Head tilted back, neck on display, mouth dropped open. You want to shove your fingers inside, so you do.

He comes immediately.

Namjoon kisses you as the two of you come down, whispering more praise in between each one. Tells you how good you are, how beautiful, that he’s glad you broke his nose. Then he realizes the dumb thing that has come out of his mouth and pauses, looking confused and delicate. He’s so cute you kiss him first this time.

And then you pull back and realize he’s got blood all over his face, gushing from the nose he’s so glad you broke, and he’s out of the bed and into the bathroom before you can blink.

“You can’t do that, we’re soulmates!”

Jimin scoffs, placing the Robber on Taehyung’s hex tile anyway, ruthless as he watches his boyfriend miserably discard half his hand. “Your fault for building a city there. I’m coming for your ore tile next.”

You roll your lips to keep from laughing. You hadn’t expected the house’s sardonically-named Royal Couple to be on the brink of disaster twenty minutes into a game of Catan, but you’re safe for now in your small part of the world, surrounded by all of these people you’ve come to love, Namjoon especially, so you’ll take all the manufactured, external drama you can get.

“Told you he’d turn on you, Tae,” you chime. He gives you the finger. “You can’t trust Libra men.”

“What about virgins!” Jungkook calls from the kitchen, where Yoongi has convinced him to drink tequila and brandy to see if he can get him to punch Namjoon, too, and Seokjin laughs so hard he looks like he’s about to keel over and die.

Yeah, you think you’re going to be fine.

#bts imagines #bts fic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon imagine #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bts smut #bts scenarios

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carelessflower · 1 year

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rating shtv jace questionable moment

let be honest, it will mostly be season one plus two offending screenshots from season two. critical analysis only when i want to, the rest depends. the descent into hell is easy after all

5/10 - see? sh writers can write, first scene with jace they already show how he treat alec the rest of the season.

6/10 - that his job

3/10 - friendly reminder, alec was the acting head at this point aka jace's boss, it's his duty to report any strange occurrence at the institute and now you brought a STRANGE girl into HIS institute, i dont know, just a thought

3/10 - yes it kinda is, and it's alec choice at that seeing how he your superiors

3/10 - jace would be a shit head for the ny institute if a random pretty girl make him act like this. and again, it normal alec get suspicious at clary, because he, you know, can actually think through situations and not dive in first like a headless chicken

4/10 - yes, he has working brain cells

2/10 - dont you love it when the dude you supposedly share half your soul dismiss your valid concerns regarding your life

5/10 - if he's as you said you would be six feet under or in some ceils not here talking shit

1/10 - yes alec stop, don't you know jace is allergic to reasoning

2/10 - he knows you should be supportive of your parabatai

1/10 - all i can say is if a stranger comes into my life, not caring for anything but herself and jeopardizing my job, i would let out far worse things than angry rant

3/10 - no wonder jace fancies clary, they are never ready to hold themselves or each other accountable for anything. true love

🚩🚩🚩/10 - right before this izzy LITERALLY said clary go out WILLINGLY i have no words, alec's way too nice i would have 'oh this you' and drag jace daddy issue to filth back i would go lower than hell. by the way jace never apologize for this so. flop

0/10 - proceed to lose her next episodes

4/10 - flop. flop parabatai of the year

2/10 - funny how jace only bring up the parabatai bond when he needs alec to do something for himm hmmmm. it giving suspicious it giving affection with conditions it giving manipulation

-♾️/10 - that a totally normal thing to say about your brother, the one who you share a lifetime bond with. i normally wish jace choke on a porcupine

0/10 - jace only contribution to the parabatai bond is 2x03 and when he use his nepotism to transfer the head of ny institute position to alec. and even with alec already on his way to that title before imogen swooped in

5/10 - ooh be making that face now suddenly you care? dont make me laugh

0/10 - jace lies so well, all that practice telling himself he looks handsome every morning paid off

0/10 - my three year old cousin has more critical thinking than these two

0/10 - jace the one to talk he's incapable of seeing anything outside clary

-/10 - for whither thou storest, I will steal, and where thou trust, I will trust to betray.

💀/10 - took them ten episodes to have alec FINALLY punch somebody for joking, using his sexuality against him when he's clearly NOT ready to talk about it. yeah fuck shit up baby

2/10 - oh okay, let talk about how you and clary fuck off to somewhere with the cup when the clave and a race supremacist massacre advocate cult leader are both hunting for it. then you and she proceed to play house with your newly discovered fake dad and left alec to deal with the mess. oh, did i mention izzy's complicit in your scheme and you left her there at the mercy of the clave?

1/10 - your saving cause more problems than elon musk to twt get over yourself

4/10 - selfish intentions + selfish actions = season one clace. a match made in heaven

6/10 - passable apology but why he cant just resist making it all about him lmaoooo

4/10 - the only joke here is your life

tag list: @dustandducks @cityofdownwardspirals @magnus-the-maqnificent @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @wildesummerchild @cam-ryt @khaleesiofalicante

#shadowhunters #anti show jace #anti shtv jace #alec lightwood #im a hater with proof

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ermesskiss · 1 month

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IMPORTANT - please reblog

The U.S. senate is conducting an outreach survey about pressing issues including ceasefire in gaza and funding for 🇮🇱

Please take time to fill out the survey and spread especially if you’re living in the U.S.

note: (what is above was copied and pasted from this twt post)

something else, these questions are set up to be intentionally bias (you can see in the photo above) so please answer thoroughly and correctly!!

i don't trust the U.S government but taking this survey will give Congress an insight on peoples views on these events. As long as people are choosing the options that are opposed of being pro-Israel or bigoted i think it'll be fine (in theory)

here are two questions that are very misleading

as you can see they are trying to paint china's government and immigrants in a bad picture, hopefully anyone who is reading this understands that

1) the U.S government is using China's government in a way to look like they steal Americans information but in reality they don't care about our privacy. if they did, Mark Zuckerberg (owner of Facebook) wouldn't have several cases of taking peoples data and selling it

also that banning TikTok is not because of peoples information, it's about the fact that U.S citizens have an easier access to learn things that the Government doesn't want them to know and spread (e.g. Israel colonizing and commiting genocide on the people of Palestine) there is even a video of a government official talking about this (if I can find it I'll come back and link it here)

2) calling immigrants violent (probably referring to middle eastern ppl and muslims) is a way to convince people to deport them, obviously being xenophobic, and other stuff

if you can understand that these questions are bigoted and quite loaded it should be easy to understand which option is morally right.

at the end of the survey they will ask you what topics you care about and what Congress should focus on. don't leave it empty.

say something like:

• call for a permanent cease-fire in Gaza

• stop the funding of the illegal occupation of Israel

• hold big tech American companies accountable for using unethical Congon cobalt to make electronic devices

• literally anything important

putting one of these in the box before submitting will highlight that people want the government to call for a permanent cease fire and to stop funding Israel and etc.

sorry, this was a lot, I didn't plan to write this much out but I thought it was important to add additional information to inform people about the situation. hopefully this made sense!!!

#gaza #free palestine #Palestine #free Gaza #world events #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #u.s politics #u.s government #U.S senate survey #★ important

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vivakitkt · 1 year

Text

I love you, why don't you love me too?

Synopsis: You love Xiao. But how will it take for him to notice you? Then a chance to end your feelings for him. To relieve yourself from the pain. Do you take it?

Warnings: angst/ maybe comfort, !hanahaki reader, reader is implied as adepti(immortal, etc), not proofread

Authors note: Finnally wrote part two! This took a couple hours honestly :') I KNOW IT ISN'T WHAT I PROMISED IT WOULD BE BUT IT WAS GETTING TOO LONG TWT Anyways enjoy reading!<33

Planning to make part 3 but might take a while ^^

Part 1 Part 2(this story is pt 2) Part 3

Leaving Xiao?

That sounds absurd. Impossible even. How would you leave him in the first place? His eyes that lit up, that were brighter in the moonlight, his crooked grin that showed his innocence.

How? How could I leave him behind? you muttered as you let out a sigh

Would Xiao even care if you left him?

You needed to know. Just once. Just once you needed to know if he cared or not.

3 days went by slowly, as soon as you healed and got better. You started following Xiao around more. As if you already knew you would be leaving soon. You wanted to say goodbye one last time. Although from a distance

This time however, you decide to approach him.

Xiao! There you are!

Y/n what are you doing here? Xiao asked, narrowing his eyes.

Can't I vist a friend? You teased, tilting your head

He flinched at the sound of you calling him a "friend" Why? Was he still that nervous around you? Realizing the tension between you two, you quickly made up an excuse to get somewhere else.

Well I should probably get going. I have a meeting with Zhongli! You quickly stammered

Walking back you couldn't help but feel disappointed. What was I expecting. Its not like he would really miss my presence. But you couldn't deny the fact that there was a longing gaze lookong upon your back.

A little longer. You need to stay for just a bit more. You have to confirm it with your own eyes. That he wouldn't care. Wouldn't care if you left.

Dawn finally broke through the sky. Pink and orange hues filling the empty sky.

Im the only one worrying about this arent I? Xiao doesn't deven know about my disease, You quietly chuckle to yourself.

You looked out at the scenery in front of you when you noticed a familiar green head from the distance. It was Xiao and the traveler together. You couldn't help but laugh.

Why is it that they are always together? You thought to yourself, staring blanking into the sky

However a few seconds later, you started to feel a little nauseous, so you decide to step out for some fresh air. Somehow making it all the way to the path up a cliff.

Well Its not that late. I'll just walk for a bit then head home.

However when you got there, there happened to have other people there before you. Treasure horders.

Nothing you couldn't handle though. But how did it end up like this?

You ended up getting caught by them and tied up to a tree. You suspected that they most likely were waiting for their boss seeing how they hadn't threatened you for mora or any valuables yet.

Hah, you sighed. Treasure horders normally wouldnt be troubling for you becuase you were a(n) adepti(immortal, ex god, powerful creature, etc) Maybe a part of you wanted to see if Xiao would come and find you. The boys that were there decided to have some fun with you. Kicking you around, grabing your hair, and throwing dirt in your face.

Later, their boss finally arrived.

Caught a pretty one didnt you boys? He teased grabbing your face harshly.

You bit him immediately, digging your teeth into him. Making sure he knew not to take you lightly.

Did you have to pick such a violent one though? He said tumbling back, rubbing him hand that was bit

Well it doesn't matter anyways, I don't need this one. No one would pay money for a disobedient girl, even if she has the face. He said with arrogant smirk growing on his face

Wait boss, we have to steal their mora before we let them go! One of the boys spoke out

Can't you see, they clearly didn't bring anything with them. The tall man spoke out, his smirk growing bigger as he spoke longer. If they did, they would have already offered it out as a desperate attempt to get out.

Drop them. He finnally said with a sadistic smile on his face

Wait, Boss are you sure? The other boy spoke with a hitch in their voice

Drop them I said. I don't need them and if we let them go, they'll probably beat us up.

What? Drop you? Suddenly remembering that you were on a cliff, you started to panic. Your breathing getting shorter.

But unfortunately too tired and hopeless to get out of the ropes, so you let them untie the tight ropes around your body. Freeing you from the restricting bond.

They slowly walked you over to the edge, limping from the aftermath of the violence. If you were in good condition, you would have fought back, but you were drained and also a bit curious to find out what would happen if you fell.

When you finish that thought, they dropped you.

Countless of thoughts filled your head as you dropped towards the ground. Am I going to die? Should I have told Xiao that I loved him?

Right. Xiao. Thats right, Xiao could save you. A perfect moment to see if he would come. Even if it were a bit masochistic, you wanted to find out if he would come to your rescue.

Opening your mouth, you blurted out his name.

Xiao.

No response. Where was he then? You tried to think of where he might be but it you had forgotten. He was with the traveler, remembering what you saw before you left. You thought more about it.

Even if he was not with the traveler, he would not come to save you. You were a power person after all why would you need help?

Tumbling faster to the ground, you thought of the possibility that he could have came. What would that mean for your relationship? You would never find out.

Then the hard impact of the ground suddenly jolted through you, then black.

Xiao pov:

Xiao.... he suddenly heard

Y/n? Were they in trouble? He panicked, of course they weren't, they were capable of taking care of themselves. He said shaking the anxiety off

Xiao? The traveler spoke, Is something bothering you?

Is this about y/n? They sighed, You didn't have to spend time with me today you know. They said twiddling with the flower in their hand

Well I had already agreed to spend the afternoon with you and its not about Y/n. He spoke with a slight strain in his voice, So there's no point in worrying, He said, picking up a flower

The traveler turned to him with a suspicious look on their face. Well its getting late anyways. We should return to Wangshu Inn, the traveler bluntly said looking up to the sky, looking up at it.

Xiao seemingly agreed, looking a bit worried for his usual self.

He then grabbed the Traveler's waist and disappeared in a cloud of green.

In seconds, they both arrived to a very chaotic and busy inn.

Someone get a doctor! A person yelled

Doctor? Xiao thought

Then coming into his view, Zhongli holding someone covered in blood.

Xiao! Isn't that.... the traveler said covering their mouth

Y/n...

What on Teyvat happened?

#genshin angst #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #adeptus xiao #xiao angst #xiao x you #genshin x reader #genshin writing #genshin men #angst no comfort #i dont like it #hanahaki

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