#although it's incredibly dated jack black is so cute

[chubbychiquita]

what r ur favorite movies with fatness/weight gain as a theme????

#mine is shallow hal #although it's incredibly dated jack black is so cute #there's also that rom com that stars rebel wilson and is.... fine #i need more fat movies

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Can you do LJ, Jason and EJ with a s/o that is lighter than air and connected to the galaxy, that has to use lead shoes to stay put. But sometimes likes to take off said shoes to float up to their s/o's height and boop them which causes mini stars to pop out.

s/o may also not be able to uh get down when they have done that :') has to get their s/o or other mansion members to get them back lol.

Hope you have a lovely day <3

I had a lot of fun with this one and found it very cute, thank you for sending it in :)

Laughing Jack:

I'm gonna start this off with a cute thing that popped into my head while brainstorming, he definitely puts star stickers all over your lead shoes because he thinks it's adorable. I think Jack would find you to be extremely adorable, all the time, and he tells you as such on a very constant basis. He definitely teases you and makes jokes about your need for lead shoes though, and when you take them off to float up to his height (being a very tall man at 7'5") he can't help but giggle and remind you how cute it is. Boop his nose and make those little stars appear and he's pulling you into a nice, tight hug with a blush all over his face because it's the cutest thing in the entire world and he never gets tired of it, he genuinely loves it so much and it's something that never fails to make him happy. Although, sometimes he does let you float up to the ceiling just so he can tease you for needing help getting down, although he always extends his arms out for you so he can reach you no matter the height and pull you back to him so he can give you a bunch of kisses and hold you close to him. I think Jack honestly likes carrying you around without your shoes, letting you get a break from them so he has an excuse to hold you in his arms and keep you close to him, and during these times he never lets you float away, he always keeps a nice, comfortable hold on you, and he's constantly snuggling into you because it's so nice to be around you.

Jason:

Like LJ, I think he would also like to decorate your lead shoes, and he probably ends up getting you multiple pairs in different styles, even if he has to hand-make them himself, just so he can decorate them all differently and give you a wide variety to wear and have, stating you need a different pair for every mood, and every season, and probably every mood in every season. He just likes making things for you and being useful. I think he's also likely to make you a bunch of different clothes, designed with star themes in mind, and he always gets so excited when you wear them. I think he also designs a few that are very light in fabric, with the thought that when you're floating about, your clothes float about around you. He's shy to admit it, but when you float up a little bit to boop his nose, surrounding him in those little stars, it's so incredibly cute and it brings him so much joy, and it flusters him so much, although, you argue in your mind that he doesn't have to admit it out loud, considering how red his face turns and the look of pure, absolute adoration he always gives you when you do it. He finds you to be so wonderous, and he's constantly captivated by you and your abilities. I can see him trying to come up with some star or galaxy-themed nicknames for you as well. I think he always tells you he must have been blessed by the galaxy itself to have such a bright, shining star residing in his life, and he always refers to you as his light.

Eyeless Jack:

I haven't gotten to talk about this in so long, but my EJ LOVES the galaxy and solar system and the stars and is obsessed with astronomy, and so dating you is definitely something that he enjoys. Also side note, in my canon instead of just black, empty eyes, EJ has black eyes with constellations in them, so please compliment him on those, perhaps tell him that it's as though the two of you are connected, it'll make him SO happy. I think the two of you have a lot of dates where you both go star viewing together, and I think you both would talk about the stars and the galaxy a lot, and he'd always be asking you questions about it in excitement, and it would bring him so much genuine joy if you'd indulge him in those discussions. Whenever you float up to boop his nose he always gets so giddy, his tail swishing back in forth in excitement as he clings to you and purrs, burying his face into your chest as he catches you in the air. With his sense of hearing, Jack can always hear you coming from several floors away because of your shoes, and even when you aren't heading in his direction it makes him happy to just hear you wandering about the mansion, happy to know that you're nearby. I think he finds it adorable when you do things like taking off your shoes and just clinging onto him while he's working, your body just floating about. If you let go, though, and float to the ceiling, he would quite literally climb anything to get you back down, his concern for you taking over, even if you find the situation humorous. 

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanon #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack headcanons #laughing jack #laughing jack headcanons #laughing jack headcanon #laughing jack x reader #jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker #jason the toymaker headcanon #jason the toymaker headcanons

[sclfmastery]

Would you be able/willing to rank the Doctoe’s regenerations on a scale of like 1/10 each or put them in your order of like favorite to least favorite :? (4 whichever master idc)

I can't rate the Doctors from best to worst because everyone's preferences are valid (and subjective). However, I can give you my list of favorites:

Nine (Eccleston)--and I suspect Fourteen will end up tying here for first place, from what I've seen of Gatwa's other work. Nine is absolutely the best person of all 13 Doctors to date. He can be brusque and he has a dangerous temper (only for those who deserve it), but something about the fact that he's raw from the Time War and so self-loathing makes his kindness and wonder at the universe incredibly compelling. He doesn't take bullshit, whereas all the other Doctors tend to PRODUCE bullshit. He's also in some indescribable way more wholesome, more grounded, more fatherly, than all the other Doctors. DON'T. SKIP. NINE!

Thirteen (Whittaker)--occupied First Place as of Series Eleven, but certain writing choices in Series Twelve and Flux have bumped her down one. I adore her for her cuteness, silliness, vivacity, disastrous goofiness and genius, but her almost vicious desire to embody forced hope, her emotional aloofness, and a certain strikingly cruel streak have made it hard for me to accept some of her actions. In a way, she's still number one anyway....but oof, as a Thoschei shipper, she makes me sad. I still celebrate her existence, and she was the first Doctor I ever found myself able to write.  The triumphs she represents for women cannot be overstated, even though we still have a long way to go. 

Ten (Tennant)--before Thirteen and Nine, Tennant was my favorite Doctor, simply because he was exuberant but also malicious, an interesting combination, and so sad and so reeling from so many losses. He is also the Doctor who, on record, treated the Master best, and I won't pretend that's not a deciding factor for me. He reached out and said, "actually, let's talk about this," and the Master came SO CLOSE to listening that he ended up saving the Doctor's life by (ostensibly, at the time, as far as he knew) sacrificing his own. My Thoschei ship was born with TenSimm so as horrible as Ten can be (looking at how he treated Jack Harkness and Martha Jones here), I can never bump him down below third place.

Twelve (Capaldi) and Fugitive/Ruth (Martin)--despite my myriad of qualms with Moffat's era, Twelve, despite being grumpy and misanthropic, was also rarely cruel. In the most misguided yikes way, he also reached out to the Master, and, even more, Missy. He tried so hard but the Vault was not a real form of bonding and rehabilitation. It was "hey best friend, let me take advantage of your dire circumstances to 'help' (emotionally manipulate, but unintentionally) you become good like I try to be (but , without effort, am not--and it's nice that Twelve, like Nine, is aware of this). If you become exactly like me I won't be alone in the universe anymore, and we can stop trying to kill each other." The Vault is the misguided extension of Ten's effort to "keep" Simm in Sound of Drums. For a long time I genuinely hated Twelve for this, because of how "benevolently" controlling he was, and how much Missy suffered trying to please him and pretending to be unable to escape the Vault in doing so. But the more Thirteen has done even objectively crueler things, to the Master and others, the more I realize Twelve isn't a terrible person. He's just tired, scared, and lonely. As for the Ruth Clayton Doctor, she was sort of under utilized so it's hard to get a read, and I understand she mostly exists as a foil to Thirteen both in Series 12 and in Flux, but media analysts have commented that her cold and brusque demeanor veers a little too close to the racist trope of "angry black woman." I tend to agree, although I genuinely believe if she gets a series of her own (thanks, Big Finish!) she will be able to show a greater range of characterization so we can truly know her as more than a shocking plot twist about the Doctor's much much longer past.

Eight (McGann)--I only watched the movie, but he's such a Byronic mopey angsty sweetheart. Cannot resist those puppy eyes.

Four (T. Baker)--wacky esoteric professor vibes. Do recommend. Kind of scary but I like the Doctor to give off slightly cryptid vibes.

Six and Two (C. Baker and Troughton)--Admittedly I have seen almost none of their episodes, but I love the clips that I've seen.

Three (Pertwee) and Five ( Davison)--I had such high hopes for Five until he treated the Master worse than a series villain would in the one multi Doctor Classic special (where the Master was genuinely trying to HELP lol; Three did the same thing, which I found even more jarring), and also let him be burned alive when he could have easily done something to intervene. It just seems so unaccountably sinister lmao.  Three I think generally treats the Master quite well and is a fun character; I’m a huge fan of Jon Pertwee’s son Sean and his work on Brother Cadfael, lol as well as Gotham.  But ultimately Three is a bit overbearing, arrogant and opinionated, in a way that isn’t endearing (at least to me) and I think he really patronizes his female companions (yes, including Jo Grant). Might just be a sign of the times, although I loved his era if only because it had so much of Delgado’s Master.  And I mean Bessie. How can you not love the era of Bessie lol. 

One (Hartnell, Bradley)--I am completely turned off by One, which I know is fandom sacrilege, but again this is a personal favorites list, not an evaluation of each character's worth. But like the original team discussed (as seen in An Adventure in Space and Time), Hartnell played it a little too rough and severe at first, and the character behaves like some sort of dignified old aristocrat while going around killing people with rocks and smiling about it. I think it's an invaluable glimpse into how the Doctor was before they were around, and softened by, humans, but it still turns me off to the character.

Eleven (Smith)--this is nothing against Matt Smith, who is a superb actor, but Eleven is so cold, so cruel, and so determined that because he's the quirky white male twink genius, any conduct whatsoever is justified. It's as if Moffat exported his (equally lamentable) characterization of Sherlock Holmes over to his first run of a Doctor. It was during Smith's run that I stopped watching DW altogether, and only came back about halfway through Capaldi's.

And if you don't see War!Doctor on this list, that's intentional. :)))) And I won't even open THAT can of worms :))))))).

#ooc

[illyria-12]

AOT Headcanons

I’ve been thinking of posting some of my headcanons and other shit here a bit more. I’m much more active on other platforms, but figured, why not? 

So have something I threw together at... I dunno, maybe 3am Monday morning? :)

Warnings: None that I am aware of.

Includes: Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert, Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Hanji Zoe, Reiner Braun (At present, maybe more added at a later date.) 

AOT Characters as Study Buddies:

Eren Jaeger:·        

Do not expect this boy to remember that he agreed to study with you. He could have agreed to study with you just a few hours ago, and would forget. He needs regular reminders.         

Remind him a couple of days before, the day before, on the day, during lunch and definitely make sure you text him after school.          

Is always late.         

He starts off really focused. Pulls out his books and notes and is eager to help.     

But he also gets very easily distracted. 

Will often check his phone. It’s a really bad habit he can’t seem to control. Whether it’s just checking the time or clearing notifications, expect his phone to be in his hand at least 60% of the time. Clearing notifications often leads to him scrolling through social media, sending snaps or replying to texts too.   

Will always involve you, telling you why he is laughing, showing the funny video or meme he has found or explaining a conversation he is having.

It’s entertaining, but not exactly the reason you are here...        

He doesn’t have a preference of where he studies, he is pretty content anywhere, but if you go to his place, he will frequently bring in snacks or order pizza. Also is much more easily distracted when at home.         

His attention span isn’t great, and although he loves the idea of being helpful and studying with you, he gets bored quickly.         

Can also get confused with his own notes.       

Will often try and get you to call an end to the study session rather than do it himself. It makes him feel accomplished that way; like he has done his job and you are the one who has had enough.Will often groan things like: 

“Are we done yet?”        

“My head/back/wrist/eyes hurt.”         

 Occasionally he will suggest ‘taking a break’, but once that has been agreed to, it is pretty much the end of studying for the rest of the night.

Likes to try and make studying as fun as possible. Bright colours, highlighting, bubble diagrams, sticky notes. You best believe his version of pop quiz is to write random answers on a sticky note and stick it to your forehead and then get you to ask questions until you get the answer right. 

Will definitely reward you with a kiss when you finally get it right.

Sometimes leaves sticky notes in your book of ‘motivational quotes' to make you smile when you eventually come across them.

Armin Arlert:-       

By far, the most committed study buddy you could have hoped for.

You have weekly study sessions at the library every Friday after school. 

Armin is always there before you, fully prepared; books laid out neatly on the table. Sometimes he even starts his homework while waiting for you. 

Is very much a fan of making a little itinerary of things you are going to work through on the day.         

Doesn’t mind odd conversation but is an expert at getting you back on the subject at hand. He can often even relate whatever you’ve said back to the topic... although sometimes it doesn’t make sense. But it’s still funny and endearing. 

“You know who else thought Mrs Bratton was a bitch? William Shakespeare.”         

Is incredibly patient.         

Is a great supporter, always encouraging you and praising you when you get things right.         

Would never admit it but he finds it cute when you just can’t wrap your head around something and then out of nowhere, the penny drops.

The faces you pull entertain him. Either when realization finally dawns on you or if you’re thinking very hard.       

“Hey, don’t worry, you got this... let’s just go through it again.” “That’s it! See? Told you you’d get there.”          

Will always make sure he brings you something to drink and snack on during session. Usually a sandwich, crisps or some chocolate to give you a bit of a boost.          

Doesn’t push you too hard, if you say you have had enough, he will generally leave it there, or try to convince you to do just a bit more, but never in a demanding sort of way.         

“Okay, shall we finish this page first?”     

“One more section? Promise.”         

Armin's biggest downside? He is so soft on you.         

Very often gives you the answers as opposed to forcing you to figure it out. 

Absolutely can not be stern. If you are feeling playful, or really not in the mood and start teasing him,he is quick to admit defeat rather than stand his ground and force you to get through the work.         

Absolutely will do 99% of the work on group projects but share the credit with you.

Levi Ackerman:·         

Will make it seem like he doesn’t want to study with you, but will ultimately agree. 

“Why don’t you ask ...... instead? Tch. Fine.”

At first he will always read what it is you have to do, and then proceed to tell you what you have to do, but not necessarily tell you how to do it.

Eventually he realizes you already know what you’re supposed to do... (you can read, Levi.) And then proceeds to actually help.          

Expect a lot of sarcasm and insults. He doesn’t necessarily mean them, but he will say them anyway.         

"Whining about it isn’t going to magically speed this up. Get to it.” 

Very rarely strays away from what it is you’re meant to be doing.

Complaining gets you nowhere with him.         

“No, we’re not taking a break, you should have eaten before.”         

It’s not that he doesn’t care, he does, but he also knows you will do anything to get out of studying when you’re frustrated, and tend to over-exaggerate. You’re not ‘starving’, he saw you eat at lunch... which was only a couple of hours ago.          

Likes to prioritize your subjects. Will take into account when assignments are due in, how difficult they are going to be and how long it will take to get done.         

Strict. Very strict.          

Prefers to study in a quiet and familiar place. Libraries or either of your houses where there are minimal distractions. 

Absolutely will not let you copy his notes. You’re welcome to read them, but he expects you to refer to your own. That doesn’t mean you don’t steal snippets here and there though, much to his annoyance.   

“Do you pay attention in any of your classes?”          

Very good at breaking things down and explaining things. You actually pick things up pretty quickly when studying with him, probably due to his ‘no nonsense’ approach.          

Will occasionally randomly test you to see if you’re actually paying attention and remembering what you are doing. He always smiles a little when you can answer his questions.          

Is not going to do the work for you, and certainly isn’t going to give you answers, you have to really work for them.          

Is patient until you start misbehaving.     

His occasional praises are a treat.

Erwin Smith:·         

Loves to study with you in different places. This man will plan a whole day for it.          

Will always bring a picnic when you study in a park. Happy to share a cocktail if you go to a bar, or a milkshake and burger if you go to a diner. 

If you do happen to study in a library, he will always take you for food afterwards. 

His notes are detailed and beautifully written and he has no problem with you using them.         

Don’t expect him to give you the answers though. Erwin is the sort of person who will ask you what you think. 

“How do you think we figure that out?”   

“What do you think we need to do?”       

“What do you think this means?”         

It’s not that he doesn’t know. But he wants you to try and figure things out yourself. As long as he can see you’re making an effort though, he is happy to guide you and let answers slip here and there, or word things in such a way that you suddenly have an epiphany and get the answer.

Is a great motivator and supporter.          

Doesn’t mind taking breaks every so often and uses this time to have general conversation with you. Nothing work related in the breaks, it’s meant to be a break.         

Is not above bribing you. Whether it be with food, physical affection, surprises... 

Yes, Erwin has in fact brought you gifts and refused to give them to you until you do the work and get it right.         

And he would do it again.        

Erwin knows a decent amount about a lot of different subjects and sometimes shares random facts regarding topics you’re studying about. Sometimes they are not at all relevant. But they are usually always interesting.         

You have this man’s undivided attention throughout the study session. Erwin is usually very busy , so when he does dedicate time to help you, he likes to be fully committed.          

Will ignore his phone completely. Texts, phone calls... everything, until you both take a break.

Hanji Zoe:·         

When the two of you get together to study, it is very hit and miss as to whether you actually get the work done. She is so intelligent, but also, such a ditz at times.          

Hanji can talk.         

Like, a lot.          

She very often will start off talking about a topic and swerve off into other lanes and get completely side-tracked.          

You once started off writing a biology paper and somehow ended up getting a history lesson about Ramses II, after learning all the details of the Black Death and even touching on Jack the Ripper.   

 But she is highly intelligent under her scatterbrain-iness.        

But can become very easily distracted. Especially if you start talking to her about something she is very excited or passionate about.          

Will sometimes forget to bring textbooks you need to use.         

Will hyper focus at times. Sometimes a bit too extensively. It can be very draining.        

Can be known for getting lost in the details.          

Never comes to a study session without a coffee for the both of you.

Absolutely has no problem sharing her notes with you, will often steal yours too.        

“A fresh set of eyes and all that.”        

“Ah, this is good! Who knew you were a certified genius?!”        

Has no problem pulling her weight on group projects, but also has no problem letting you take the lead... or do all the work.         

Tends to be much more productive closer to the end date of an assignment. 

Fidgets a lot. Always tapping a pen, nibbling on the end or twirling it between her fingers. Knee bouncing... almost constantly.          

Likes to take regular breaks to analyse and go over what the two of you have learned and accomplished so far and decide where to go from here.

Procrastinates.

Reiner Braun:·         

Reiner is always happy to study with you. Even though his calendar is pretty full, he will always make an effort to squeeze you in.          

Definitely the kinda guy to put a game night on hold, telling his friends online he will be back in a couple of hours to help you first.          

Always greets you with a kind smile and asking if you’re ready for the session.       

Doesn’t mind where you study, but does prefer to study at his house so he can give you a snack or something to drink.   

Really likes it when you go and study in the garden. It is probably his favourite place to study with you. Just because it is nice, quiet and peaceful.          

Very chilled out; will often make jokes and try his best to keep the mood light. 

Very patient; has no problem going over things multiple times and trying lots of different ways to try and help you understand.          

Likes to be close to you when you work together. Knees occasionally touching, shoulders brushing. Just give this man a reason to touch you in anyway shape or firm. A reassuring hand on your shoulder, a quick one armed hug in the chair, ruffling your hair, squeezing your hand... he is all about that shit.          

Will celebrate your victories and praise you constantly.        

“Hey, well done! See I knew you would get it.”         

“We’ve done a lot today, I’m proud of you.”         

Always down for a cuddle or a movie afterwards, or maybe even a walk through the park to get some air and unwind.          

Will digress sometimes but it’s very fleeting and he picks up exactly where he left off again easily.          

Has no problem with you taking some of his notes, or searching the Internet for answers.          

Will explain how he got the answer and break things down into manageable chunks for you.         

Chocolate is always on the table.        

If you get too stressed he will let you take a break.         

Will offer to give you neck, back or even hand massages if you get too stiff. 

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

#Headcanon #aot headcanons #hc #AoT #snk #Eren Jaeger #armin arlert #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #Erwin Smith #reiner braun #writing stuff

[recentanimenews]

Bookshelf Briefs 9/30/20

Accomplishments of the Duke’s Daughter, Vol. 6 | By Reai and Suki Umemiya | Seven Seas – Another series down to “once a year” release—I had to jog my memory at the start to recall what had been happening. Many things are going wrong for our heroine, who is trying to be strong and tough but is also starting to break down, and I felt that the scenes with her and Dean struck just the right balance of comforting and letting the heroine cry without making her seem weaker. This sets the stage for her comeback, which is extraordinary. (And also has a corrupt Church, a constant in Japanese light novels, though at least here there are also honest and good religious people in it.) That said, eventually Dean’s identity will come out, and I do wonder how this very good “villainess” isekai will handle it. – Sean Gaffney

The Ancient Magus’ Bride: Jack Flash and the Faerie Case Files, Vol. 1 | By Yu Godai, Mako Oikawa, and Kore Yamazaki | Seven Seas – A faerie switched at birth for a human child, Jack never fit in in either world. Only in the mortal realm could she earn money for anime collectibles, however, so she decided to make herself into a tough, capable woman like her literary heroes and set up shop as a detective. Together with her fellow changeling, Larry the werewolf, Jack takes on supernatural cases in New York City. In this volume, Lindel tasks them with tracking down a missing dragon egg. I liked the resources Jack uses to obtain information, which include a dapper theatre ghost and a spell with components of rat whiskers and taxi tires because “Nobody out there knows this city better than them.” I still found this a bit hard to get into, though, especially the parts involving a perpetually tearful off-off-off-off-Broadway actress and her pickpocket boyfriend. Still, I will check out volume two! – Michelle Smith

Black Clover, Vol. 22 | By Yuki Tabata | Viz Media – At long last, this interminable arc comes to an end. I enjoyed a lot of it, but I cannot deny it should have been about two volumes shorter. Most of the book is taken up by shonen battles, with the villain being nigh unkillable, the heroes almost breaking themselves to stop him, etc. Fortunately, the day is saved, and even the Wizard King turns out to be… sort of alive again? Shota fans should be happy. Asta fans perhaps less so—the sheer amount of damage done to the kingdom in this arc means someone has to be blamed, and give Asta has the “dark evil magic” it’s gonna be him, especially when he takes the incredibly obvious bait they use to get him to fight. Oh well, if Asta were smart, this wouldn’t be Black Clover. – Sean Gaffney

Don’t Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro, Vol. 3 | By Nanashi | Vertical Comics – Part of the problem with titles like this and the other teasing works (Takagi-san less so as Nishikata doesn’t fall into the category) is that they are, at heart, the classic “extroverted girl acts overtly extroverted to bring introverted guy out of their shell,” and that’s not really a plot that feels comfortable in the Gen Z days, where you’re more likely to say “why doesn’t she just let him be in his quiet, safe space?” And by she I mean they, as Nagatoro’s two friends appear far more often here, which offers some good two-way teasing action, as they clearly see her crush on him, if not why. It’s still sort of hard to read, but if you pretend he’s more OK with it than he actually is, this is cute. – Sean Gaffney

Failed Princesses, Vol. 1 | By Ajiichi | Seven Seas – The concept of “popular girl meets unpopular girl” is a common one in yuri manga, and we do indeed hit several of its tropes in this first volume. The amusing thing is that Kanade, the shy outcast girl, is perfectly aware of how things are supposed to go, and keeps pulling back a bit to try to save Nanaki from, well, making herself an outcast by associating with the wrong people. The best part of the volume is that Nanaki really doesn’t give two shits about any of that, and seems set on making Kanade her best friend… and also making her over, which backfires a bit as Kanade cleans up nicely. I hear this gets a bit dramatic later, but for the moment it’s a cute and fluffy proto-yuri story. – Sean Gaffney

In/Spectre, Vol. 12 | By Kyo Shirodaira and Chashiba Katase | Kodansha Comics – The first story in this volume is another “Rikka tries to make people understand Kotoko is an evil Machiavellian schemer,” this time with one of her ex-classmates, but again the response seems to be “we know she’s a manipulative bitch, but she’s a good person anyway.” The larger story, which will continue into the next book, seems to be a chance to write Kuro and Kotoko as an actual romance, as the man we meet here and his relationship with a yuki-onna… as well as his penchant for attracting misfortune… very much parallel them. That said, they’re very cute together, which is why I hope he avoids the murder charge he’s now being investigated for. Still a favorite. – Sean Gaffney

Interviews with Monster Girls, Vol. 8 | By Petos | Kodansha Comics – The author knows what people want to see, but also knows that the best way to get readers is to drive them crazy by not showing it. We finally get what we’ve been begging for here, as Tetsuo asks Sakie out on a date. (This is after rejecting Kyouko’s love confession, both because she’s his student and also, as he is forced to admit, as he likes Sakie.) The stage is set for the date… and the rest of the book is thus spent with the three main student girls going to Kyouko’s for a fireworks viewing and meeting her family. They’re good chapters, and I really liked showing how difficult Kyouko has it as a dullahan in terms of everyday life, but GOD, please get back to the teachers, I beg you! – Sean Gaffney

Kaguya-sama: Love Is War, Vol. 16 | By Aka Akasaka | Viz Media – The series has gotten to the point where the more rewarding chapters are the ones as part of a larger arc. Not that the one-shot chapters are bad—though Maki’s journey to India may be the most pointless thing in this entire series to date, we do get Chika’s iconic “shut up or I’ll kill you” here. But the larger arcs, featuring Miyuki and Kaguya attempting to date without interruptions, and setting up Ishigami and Iino for a romance—though given the number of limbs broken in this book, and Iino’s own horrible lack of self-awareness, it may be a ways out—are better. This series is still hilarious, but we’ve come to read it more for the heartwarming moments. Heck, there’s even some serious drama here. Very good. – Sean Gaffney

Nineteen | By Ancco | Drawn & Quarterly – Although it was translated and released second in English, Nineteen is a precursor to Ancco’s internationally award-winning manhwa Bad Friends. The volume collects thirteen short comics originally published in Korea over a decade ago which absolutely remain relevant to today’s world. While understandably not as polished as some of Ancco’s later work—one can observe her style evolving and growing over the course of the collection (which is fascinating)—the comics still carry significant emotional weight and impact. Nineteen includes diary comics, which tend to be more lighthearted, as well as harder-hitting fictional stories, many of which also have autobiographical inspiration. As a whole, the collection explores themes of young adulthood, growing up, and complicated family relationships. In particular, there is a compelling focus on the relationships among daughters, mothers, and grandmothers. Some of the narratives can be rather bleak, but a resigned sense of humor threads through Nineteen, too. – Ash Brown

Ran the Peerless Beauty, Vol. 8 | By Ammitsu | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – Shoujo manga that has couples getting together BEFORE the end of the series is inevitably going to have an arc dealing with how far the lead couple should go now that they’re dating, and this is Ran’s turn, as she and Akira and their friends go to a beach house Ran’s family owns and have some beach fun. Unfortunately, the cast gets winnowed down one by one until it’s just the two of them… and her overprotective father, who arrives in time to provide the cliffhanger and no doubt ensure that nookie does not ensue. Not that I think it should—these two kids are even purer than the couple from Kimi ni Todoke, and I think they should mature a bit more before going further. Plus, watching them blush and kiss is wonderful. – Sean Gaffney

Spy x Family, Vol. 2 | By Tatsuya Endo | Viz Media – Having spent our first volume establishing that our found family can really come to love each other deep down, this volume shows off how they are also, at heart, fundamentally awkward and unable to socialize normally. This is unsurprising—hints of Loid’s life we’ve seen show him as a war orphan, Yor is a contract killer, and Anya basically grew up being experimented on by bad guys. As the school soon finds, this leads to issues. The second half of the book introduces Yor’s sister-obsessed little brother Yuri, who turns out to be a torture expert for Loid’s enemies. As always, half the fun is that everyone except Anya has no idea who their real selves are, and the cliffhanger tells us we’re in for some hilarious family fun. I love this. – Sean Gaffney

Spy x Family, Vol. 2 | By Tatsuya Endo | VIZ Media – After a brief spell atop the waiting list, Anya officially makes it into Eden Academy. Loid is anxious to progress to the next stage of his mission and, believing there’s not much chance in turning Anya into an elite scholar like his agency wants, focuses instead on having her befriend the younger son of his target. It does not go to plan, of course. Anya is very cute in this volume, and I also really appreciated how Loid genuinely listens to Yor and values her input. The arrival of Yor’s brother, a member of the secret police, is going to be a fun complication, and another cast member with a secret, but my favorite part of this series is probably always going to be how much love these three are already feeling for each other. So unique and good! – Michelle Smith

Sword Art Online: Hollow Realization, Vol. 6 | By Tomo Hirokawa, based on the story by Reki Kawahara | Yen Press – The weakness of this manga is the same as always—it’s written to tie into the games, and features several characters I just don’t recognize, which can be a problem given this is the big final let’s-save-the-world ending. That said, this is still a decent SAO title. Kirito gets to be cool and badass, but because this isn’t written just by Kawahara others do as well, and it’s a nice balanced effort that focuses on heroine Premiere. I also really liked the point where all the NPCs are worried when everyone has to log out for several days for maintenance. While I’ll still remember this as the “SAO only everyone is alive” manga, I enjoyed reading it, when I wasn’t confused. – Sean Gaffney

By: Ash Brown

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf

[javis-beretta]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (4)

part four is here! things are getting kinda spicy so i’m excited to hear your thoughts! enjoy! <3

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8

A few weeks later, your best friend, Davey, grabbed your arm and pulled you into an empty classroom.

“This whole thing with Race is crazy! I can’t believe that you’ve been harbouring a crush on the king of the cafeteria crowd this entire time!”

You grinned at his surprise.

“I know, it all happened so quickly! I’m as shocked as you are!”

Davey, like all of your and Race’s friends, had been told the official story. You ran into Race at Jacobi’s, the pair of you started talking, you bonded over ugly middle school pictures, you began speaking every day and, then, he asked you out. It was an easy story to stick to, but it did hurt a little to lie to Davey.

Just before he accosted you in Mr Bunsen’s homeroom, Davey had seen Race sidle up to you in the middle of the cafeteria, link his pinky with yours, and pull you in to kiss you on the forehead. He slipped a note into your hand, in front of everyone, including Spot, and told you to have a good day, before you headed to your next lesson.

“You know,” Davey said, gently, “you’ve really brightened up since he came around. I’m happy that you aren’t pining over Jack anymore.”

“I was never pining after Jack! He was just the cute boy next door. The feelings were more instinctual than they were real.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” he said, with a sarcastic smile.

“Anyway, I have to get to trig, I’ll see you later?”

“Sure thing, kid. By the way, are you and Race going to Albert’s tonight?”

You paused in the doorway and turned back to him.

“Uh, I don’t think so. Why, are you going?”

Davey was pretty similar to you, in the sense that he preferred to fly under the radar at school. He was charismatic and funny, so you weren’t surprised that he’d been invited. You were a little surprised, though, that he wanted to go. Davey gave you a sheepish grin.

“He’s in my English class, so we’ve been talking a little. I need someone to talk to if I do go, so please think about coming.”

“I’ll talk to Race,” you said, with no intention to follow through.

That afternoon Race had track, and you didn’t feel like waiting so you took the bus home. It was odd, to be back on the bus after so much time in Race’s car, but you didn’t really mind. You got home a little after four and decided that, that evening would be a good time for an avocado face mask. Mr Pulitzer – or Joe, as he insisted that you call him – was working late, so he wouldn’t be around to bother you. Around six, you put on your comfiest clothes and settled in to watch The Proposal. Sandra Bullock had just barely proposed to Ryan Reynolds when you heard the doorbell ring. You went to answer it, and there was Race, looking at you with that crooked smile.

“Hey, you do know it’s not a costume party, right? Although your impression of Jim Carrey in the mask is spot on.”

“Uh, what? What party? Also, shut up, avocado is moisturising!”

He frowned at you.

“Seriously? Did you not read the letter I wrote you today? Albert’s party is tonight and you’re coming with.”

You were pretty sure that letter was still folded up in the pocket of your jeans. You started to protest, but he quickly cut you off.

“No arguing, parties are in the contract, remember?”

Ugh. That stupid contract.

“Fine, come inside. You can wait here while I get ready.”

You positioned him on the couch and started to leave the room, before turning back around.

“And, don’t touch anything.”

He gave you a smile that was the opposite of innocent and shooed you away to get dressed. You quickly did your makeup and put on something cute. It was a party, so you probably wouldn’t need to be too formal, right? Before you left, you slipped a necklace. It was silver, with a blue flower pendant. It had belonged to your mother. You tried to wear it often enough, but it felt a little too fancy for school. With your pretty outfit, though, it looked good.

You walked back into the living room to find Race cooing over baby pictures that you didn’t even know you had.

“Awww, little Y/N was so cute! What happened?”, he joked, as soon as he heard you walk into the room behind him.

“Actually, Higgins, I’m still plenty cute. Cute enough to settle for you, anyway.”

As soon as he turned around, the smile was wiped off his face.

“Uh, yeah, you are definitely still cute.”

You blushed a little but ignored the compliment. You were getting used to Race’s flirting, slowly but surely. Soon, you were back in his familiar car and he was driving you to Albert’s. As you pulled into the driveway, you reached back to scratch your neck, and the necklace you had been wearing slipped off.

“Shit,” you said aloud, and Race glanced at you.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but I think the clasp broke. It was my mom’s, so I don’t want to lose it, but I haven’t got any pockets to put it in.”

“Ah, don’t worry, I’ll hold onto it,” he said lightly, picking it up and slipping it into the pocket of his black jeans.

You both climbed out of the car and walked up to the front door. He paused for a moment and glanced at you, “You ready for this, Y/L/N?”

You took his hand and nudged his shoulder with yours.

“Born ready, Higgins.”

He chuckled, gripped your hand, and pushed the door open.

The party was in full swing. It wasn’t anything crazy, but you had never seen so many people from your high school letting loose before. There was music playing, and a boy with bright red hair waved you over from a table in the corner, playing what looked like beer pong.

“Hey, Higgins! You made it!”

The boys did a weird bro-hug and the boy, whom you now recognised as Albert, grinned at you.

“And this is Race’s mystery girl! I’ve seen you at school, but it’s good to finally meet you! I’m Albert, but everyone calls me Al,” he swept you into a warm hug.

Race grinned. He was definitely happy to see Al being so welcoming to you, especially since most of his boys hated Spot before, during and after their relationship.

“You okay hanging here for a little? I’ll go get us some drinks.”

You nodded, and Race jetted off. Al gave you a crash course in the rules of beer pong and soon, you were dominating. Your hand eye coordination was better than you had expected. Your eye caught on Davey, across the room, talking to… Was that Jack? As soon as the thought entered your head, Jack looked up and said something to Davey, before patting his shoulder and heading for you. You groaned, internally. There was no way you could get out of this conversation now.

When he reached you, he put a hand on your arm.

“Hey, can we talk somewhere? I’ve been calling you and trying to get a hold of you for a while.”

“Uh, yeah, I know. We can go stand by the pool, if you want. It looks kind of empty there.”

He nodded, and you followed him, a little reluctantly. So, this was happening. As soon as you were in the less crowded area outside, he stopped and started talking.

“So, are you seriously dating Race?”

Why was he talking about this?

“Yeah. Is that a problem for you?”, you may have sounded a little defensive, but you were getting tired of people thinking that you couldn’t land a cute, popular boy.

“No, just, since when is he your type?”

“What would you know about my type, Jack?”

“Nothing! You’re just so sweet and innocent and he’s, like, a popular, jock-y dickhead.”

You bristled at his patronising tone.

“Well, maybe, I’m not as innocent as you thought, then.”

“That’s not what I meant! Ever since Kath and I ended things, shit has been awkward between us and then I get your letter and, I’m just incredibly confusedr.”

And, there it was. The letter.

“Look, that letter was how I felt a long time ago, and I’m with Race, now. Nothing can happen between us, okay? We cannot do that to Kath.”

“Kathrine hasn’t talked to me since she left for university. And, I don’t even know what I feel for you, Y/N. I just,” he trailed off. “I already lost Kath, I really don’t want to lose you, too. You’re one of the most important people in my life.”

“I’m sorry, Jack, but, a relationship is never going to happen between us, get it?”

Just then, an arm snaked around your waist. Race was there, with two cups, one in either hand.

“Hey, I’ve been lookin’ for you. Is everything okay over here?”

He addressed the question to both of you, but he was looking at you, searchingly.

“Yeah, we were just finishing up. Let’s get back inside, Race, it’s kind of cold out here. I’ll see you around, Jack.”

Jack nodded stiffly and watched you go with Race. As you found your way back to beer pong table, Race handed you a cup with something fruity and alcoholic in it and you explained everything that had happened. His hand around your waist squeezed you lightly.

“You’re all good though, right?”

“Yeah, I’m all good, now.”

You spotted Davey again and excused yourself from Race and the boys at the table.  Albert groaned and those who were playing against you cheered. After just a few moments, they were already starting to grow on you.

You chatted idly to Davey about school, and your relationship and you found that you didn’t have to fabricate any of the joy in your voice when you talked about Race.

Race, in another room, was having a similar conversation about you, with Spot.

“I just don’t know how you moved on so quickly!”

“How I moved on? Spot, you were some guy from NYU before I could say anything.”

“Okay, yeah, but at least it was someone you didn’t know! You moved on with Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that people you inexplicably disliked were off limits. In case you had forgotten, Sean, you broke up with me.”

Race turned to leave and as he did, something shiny slipped out of his pocket. In his frustration, he didn’t notice, and Spot picked it up, as Race slammed the door shut. It was a pretty little necklace, not Race’s style at all. It must have been yours. He slipped it into his pocket, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to hold onto it for a little. It might come in handy.

Race heard you laughing before he saw you. You were chatting to Romeo and laughing as the boy waggled his eyebrows at something. Race put a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you want to get something to eat? I think Jacobi’s is still open.”

You were surprised, but you didn’t mind.

“Yeah, of course, let’s head out.”

Romeo winked at you and you said your goodbyes and headed to Jacobi’s Deli, ordering a plate of fries and two chocolate shakes. You hadn’t had enough to get drunk, not by a long shot, but, you were, in your limited experience, a lightweight, so you felt warm and happy and loose. Race could have been the cause of it, but it was easier to blame it on whatever had been in your cup at the party.

Race’s phone pinged with a text, and he frowned at it.

“What’s got you so glum, chum?”

He looked up, brows still furrowed.

“It’s, uh, Spot. He confuses me. He barely talked to me at the party, but now that we’ve left he blows up my phone. I just don’t get him.”

“Yeah, he was always kind of possessive, even when you were together. Are you gonna text him back?”

“Nah. I’ll probably just call him when I get home.”

You nodded, slowly.

“So, you guys still talk on the phone?”

“I mean, not as much as we used to, but, yeah. Before I was dating him, we were friends. It’s difficult to just let that go.”

You nodded again but didn’t reply.

“What? Is that weird? You’ve got your judge-y face on, again.”

“No,” you protested, “it’s not weird. I just don’t think it’s the healthiest thing ever.”

He scoffed.

“Yeah, because you’re the relationship expert, here.”

“Uh, excuse you, Higgins. You’ve dated one more person than me, and you’re obsessed with him. You’re not one to talk.”

“I’m not obsessed!”, he argued, and then sighed. “You know, you are honest to a fault.”

“Yeah, well. It’s useless to lie about some things.”

He paused for a moment, and you could see something in his eyes that looked like a question brewing.

“Okay, then. If you’re being honest tonight, I’ve got a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re pretty, smart, funny and pretty much everything most guys are looking for. So, why haven’t you had a boyfriend yet? And don’t say that it’s because no one is interested, because I know for a fact that Finch tried to ask you out a couple years ago.”

You exhaled, heavily.

“I just-“ you trailed off. “Dating and love and romance is so easy to write about, and so much fun to read about, but, in real life, it terrifies me. And I don’t think it’s about putting myself out there or whatever. I just feel like as soon as I get attached to someone, then it’ll hurt a lot when they’re gone.”

He studied you.

“That makes a lot of sense. Do you mean gone, like your mom?”

You sighed again and willed your heart to stop hurting.

“I guess.”

“I-I’m sorry for bringing it up, it must be tough to talk about.”

“No, it was a long time ago. I miss her, but it’s not as bad as it used to be, I guess.”

There was another beat of silence.

“Uh, I don’t know if you know this, but, um, I’m adopted.”

You were a little surprised, but more grateful that he changed the subject.

“Yeah, of course I know. I’ve known you forever, Race.”

“Well, uh, my birth father contacted me a while ago, like two summers ago and, uh, he wanted to meet up and, I guess, talk to me. So, I went to some restaurant and he never showed. He hasn’t talked to me since. And, I know that it’s not the same, like, at all, but, um. Yeah. I haven’t told that to anyone, until now.”

He laughed nervously, and you reached across the table to cover your hand with his.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m really sorry, Race. You deserve better,” you said, gently.

He hummed and then flipped your hand over and absently stroked it with his thumb.

“You know, for someone who’s scared of relationships, you’re not doing half bad in this one,” he said.

You grinned brightly.

“Yeah, well, this is different. It’s just pretend.”

He quickly dropped your hand and cleared his throat.

“Uh, yeah, you’re completely right.”

You frowned.

“Are we good, Race?”

“Huh? Yeah, we’re great. We should get going though. I’ve still gotta drop you at home.”

He stood up abruptly and put some money down for the bill.

That night, when you got home, you stood silently in your room for a moment. Something had been off with Race that evening. You shook your head to clear the thoughts away, and your phone pinged with a text. This time, it wasn’t Race. It was Katherine. She wanted to talk.

TAGLIST: @hungoverhellhound @seriously-ceci  @ben-cook-can-cook   @pinecovewoods  @brendonuriehimself  @races-erster  @the-butterfly-anon

#newsies x reader #race higgins x reader #newsies: the musical #newsies fanfiction

[floralseokjin]

;the touch of silk (m)

In a world where vampires coexist with the living, there are many humans looking for a cheap thrill…you’re ashamed to admit you’re curious too, putting to good use a dating app you find…but Min Yoongi is nothing like you imagined a vampire to be…

pairing; min yoongi x reader genre/warnings; (slight) sugar daddy! yoongi, vampire! yoongi, smut, romance, blood mentions, but nothing too crazy words; 14,221

⇶ more; black honey—sunday mornings—small things

⤑ read over on ao3 here

The first time you meet Min Yoongi it’s in a crowded bar. He’s sitting in the darkest corner, the muted lights illuminating his pale skin. He’s beautiful, even better than the pictures you’d seen online. His skin is blemish free, glowing with a freshness a dead person shouldn’t have. For he’s a vampire. Has been for over 90 years in fact, if what he put on his profile is correct. He’s older than your grandparents but doesn’t look a day over thirty; youthful forever, on this earth for eternity. Or until someone sticks a stake in his heart or he burns in the sunlight.

You’re not nervous or afraid. You’re unsure why because everyone you know is too scared to be in walking distance of the night crawlers. Not you, you’ve been curious ever since they began coexisting with you guys. Most are just like humans you think. Of course you get your bad vamps but you also get your bad humans too. You can list infinitely more serial killers that have been human as oppose to vampire. Yoongi actually laughs at you when you tell him the exact same thing.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, face puzzled.

“You do realise half those serial killers you think were human aren’t, right?” He tells you. “Jack the ripper, Cleveland torso murderer, black dahlia—all vampires. That’s why they never got caught.”

“You’re lying,” you accuse.

“Why would I lie to you?” He chuckles. “The clue is in the crime. All committed at night.”

“But none of those victims had bite marks,” you puzzle. It didn’t make sense.

“Cute,” he smirks. “You think vampires only kill for blood.”

That’s the first reminder you’re dealing with a vampire. Of course, Yoongi is as harmless as one can get, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t hurt a person before, killed somebody once upon a time. You’re not dumb. You know how they work. It’s just some vamps get bored of the bloody and violent lifestyle quicker than others. They crave a normality to life only humans can have and some try really hard to follow the rules and make sure they’re as mortal as a vampire can get.

“Do you have a preferred blood type?” You ask.

Yoongi says he’s been drinking artificial blood ever since it came out, only choosing to feed from a willing mate for the real stuff. When he tells you that, your breath hitches because that’s what you’re here for right; a potential mate that will provide him company…and…other unorthodox activities that makes your stomach bounce around in desire. Min Yoongi is a good-looking man, even if he wasn’t a vampire, you’d bet the girls would be lining up for a go at him…and the men.

You watch him take the bottle in his hand and flip it around, the label now facing you and you see in big black text: A positive. That’s your blood type. It says so right on the dating profile you used to find him. If your mother knew her daughter was using satan worthy means to find a guy—or hell to that, find money, she’d go to her grave early. However, what she didn’t know won’t hurt her. After all, you were just having some fun.

“What does it taste like?”

Another question. At this rate he’ll think you’re interviewing him for a special piece in the city’s newspaper. He shrugs, dark fringe flopping in his face as he does so and you watch him take a large sip of the red liquid. He smacks his lips loudly, enjoying the taste as it laces his mouth and slips down his throat. For some reason, the sight makes your heart race; oddly erotic in the dimly lit bar and you know you have to control yourself. This is your first meeting, just to get to know one another. You are not supposed to be thinking about how beautiful he would look with his fangs extended and how much you would practically kill for that visual.

“Sweet,” he replies simply, a smile on his face, and you have to look away when your eyes lock, something about it too intense for you after all those thoughts. Sweet…did that mean you would taste sweet to him?

“Does the blood type really matter?”

“I mean, a casual vampire isn’t going to care about the blood type as long as the human is clean of diseases, but there are some who think they are the superior being and are owed whatever blood they choose. I have no time for those type of creatures,” he shrugs off, nose wrinkled in disgust and you’re surprised by the distaste for his own kind.

Granted, not every vampire is like he described. Some take to living life like normal humans; working beside you, dating humans, even getting married now the law had passed… But there are still some who think humans are inferior to them—whilst still taking all the privileges they can get from this world, you may add… You guess Yoongi has no time of day for those kinds of vampires, and for some reason that has you feeling some type of way.

“But you chose me because of my blood type, right? It says I’m A positive on my profile…”

For some reason you can’t shut up tonight. You should definitely feel more nervous, but instead, only a mild buzz of excitement flows through your veins. Some would say you’re reckless, but you see it as adventurous…

You watch him pause, placing his bottle down with a clank. When he smiles he looks you straight in the eye and your heart thuds against your rib cage. He’s breathtaking.

“No,” he shakes his head simply. “I chose you because I thought you were incredibly beautiful and I wanted to get to know you better. You are more than just a blood bag to me…”

And he stays true to his word.

You decide you want to see each other again and before you know it weeks have past, no blood taking in sight. He hasn’t even made a move in other ways … Not even a kiss. Of course there’s a hand on the small of your back when he leads the way and there’s definitely flirting going down. He can tell in your eyes you want him like no tomorrow but he’s a man of patience. He always seems to offhandedly mention he can wait eternity for things and you know deep down he’s teasing you. You wonder how long you have to wait…

You get along brilliantly though. He has a quick witted, dry sense of humour that you love. He can make you laugh till the sun comes up—quite literally. He also doesn’t seem to mind your fascination with him. He answers the questions you give to him with ease, but almost every time with a raised eyebrow, because well, you’re you.

“Have you ever killed someone?”

You whisper this question because you’re in a crowded art gallery. It still amazes you how businesses now open their doors at night as well as day. Although you aren’t surprised—double the business is always great. It’s while you’re viewing a pretty dreadful painting—not skill wise of course, just…content…a man covered in blood next to a dozen dead bodies or so, the question pops into your head. You’re comfortable enough to ask Yoongi, although whether he gives you an answer is another thing…

He raises that eyebrow slowly as you look up at him, expression innocent and he chuckles under his breath. “You are incredibly morbid.”

With a hand on your back he moves you along to the next painting—sunflowers, definitely more innocent and you guess he’s not going to reply. That is until you feel his mouth by the shell of your ear, breath hot as he whispers against it.

“I’m a vampire,” he tells you, as if it answers your question, and it does, for the most part.

But you’re curious, one day it could probably get you killed—in this world it could definitely get you killed…

“Of course I’ve killed people—humans, vampires,” he pauses as you hold your breath, in sudden shock at his frankness. “—never animals though, I love them too much.”

His hand’s still on your back, having dropped to the lowest point, just atop your bottom and it’s all you can feel, like it’s burning its way inside your body. His mouth is so close to your face you’ve never wanted to kiss him more, and you pray for it, even though it won’t happen in a place this full. Instead you bite down on your bottom lip and try to flush away the disappointment that fills you when Yoongi steps back and regains his position next to you, viewing the painting as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You bet he’s seen so many wonders of the world… You want to ask, but you’ve already filled your quota for tonight.

It’s when you’re leaving the gallery he feels the need to tell you something, as if it’s been weighing on his mind the whole time after you asked him that very personal question.

“I haven’t killed anyone in thirty years. Not since I decided I wanted to live a normal life.”

For some reason, knowing he hasn’t killed in your lifetime eases you slightly. As if knowing he’s been a good guy for a while now would make everything better for your mother if she accidentally found out her daughter was getting paid to date the living dead…

You scoff to yourself. Nothing would make it better.

Another question you’ve been dying to ask comes out one night after you’ve watched a late night showing at the movie theatre. The Great Gatsby. A movie set in the 1920s. By your calculations, if correct, Yoongi was turned in that decade. So naturally, while engrossed in the movie you can’t take your eyes off him, wondering what he’s thinking about, his gaze intense, forehead furrowed, deep in concentration. He’s lived through all that, you think. He’s seen the real thing.

The question comes out as he drives you home.

“How did you turn into a vampire?”

His story is a simple one. Love. The simplest, yet also most complex emotion. He fell in love with a vampire and upon finding out what she was, made the decision to ask her to turn him. It’s that of modern day books and movies, but it’s real for him. Very real. He’s proof—more than ninety years on. You want to know if he regrets it, if only just a part of him…but you decide that’s a question for another day…

Despite getting to know him as well as the back of your hand, he’s still yet to make a move. You enjoy his company and he’s the perfect gentleman but you’re growing restless. Being around him lately is like being attached to a ticking time bomb. With every little thing he does; a look and a smile your way, a touch or even just a brush against your arm, you’re weak and in fear of combusting.

That’s why you take it into your own hands one night…

You’re in a restaurant when the waiter seems a little on the judging side. Vampires have been coexisting with humans for over three years by now but obviously some people just don’t like it. However, what some really despise are the humans that choose to associate themselves with the creatures. Vampire sympathisers, that’s what they call them. And that’s you, you guess, if you’re going by their logic.

It’s when the waiter is handing you your food, just after serving Yoongi his bottle of blood that he whispers—looking you directly in the eyes, hate driving through them— “Enjoy your meal, vamp fucker.”

Yoongi hears it, of course he does, he’s a vampire. The waiter’s more than stupid. And as he turns to leave you notice Yoongi slam his fist on the table, face stern as he breathes angrily through his nostrils. You’re still in shock but you think fast and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently to silently warn him. There’s no point in letting those hateful people think they’re right.

The rest of the meal goes by pretty tensely. Yoongi is silent for most of it, only speaking when you try to make conversation. When you leave, he doesn’t give a tip and it’s when you’re walking to his car, stopping beside the passenger’s door to open it for you, that he finally makes conversation. And it’s not one you like.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, and when you knit your forehead together in confusion, he coughs, clearing his throat to begin again. “Me? Are you sure about me?”

“Or course I am—

But he’s not listening, shaking his head as he begins to talk over you. You’re not even listening too by this point because he’s talking rubbish. If he thinks one idiots’ opinion is going to make you change your mind, then he doesn’t know you at all. The weeks of getting to know one another must have been a waste then…

“I understand if you don’t want to carry on this agreement. No hard feelings…”

He’s still going on and you roll your eyes in irritation. For a vampire he’s not very head strong. He has it all wrong. What happened inside the restaurant doesn’t make you change your mind regarding him, more like another knock when it comes to the compassion of humans on this planet.

Yoongi is a gentleman. A kind, well spoken vampire, who could show them a thing or two when it comes to this world. To realise he thinks so lowly of himself that he would come to the conclusion you don’t want him anymore, just because of a rude imbecile’s comment is shocking. Yoongi is twice the man—yes man, because he’s more than a vampire— than that guy will ever be, and he needs to know it.

He’s still mumbling about god knows what when you go to kiss him. You don’t think too hard, because if you do, you know you won’t do it. His lips are soft, partially wet because they’re still parted. His breath hitches once he realises what’s happening, body freezing, but he doesn’t push you away. You peck at his mouth, once, twice, a third time, cautiously as you wait for him to kiss back and it’s as your lips press for a fourth, that he does.

He’s just as gentle, as if he doesn’t want to mess it up and you brave it, reaching out to press your palms against his shoulders, wanted to feel him a little. After a moment, he’s doing the same, reaching out to hold your neck, angling your chin so he can deepen the kiss.

His lips aren’t cold like you imagined, or hard. They’re plush and warm against yours, applying hardened pressure as he hums in approval. Both the sound and vibration do something to you, you’re unsure what, but you feel the tingling all over your body and gasp a little. The sticky sound as your mouth parts greater against his sounds in your ears and then his tongue hints across your bottom lip, seeking permission to enter.

The kiss isn’t greedy or eager. You’re just both enjoying the sensation—the sensation you’ve craved since you met him. There has been no doubt in your mind since the first time you met Min Yoongi, he’s different. There’s something about him.

He pulls away suddenly, turning his head away from you and for a moment you’re confused, until he whispers a sorry, and then it all makes sense. His fangs are out. You feel your cheeks heat up. If that’s not a for sure sign that he’s enjoying himself then you don’t know what is. It must be a bind to hide, but you don’t care anyway. Why does he need to hide from you?

Without thinking you take his face in your hands and make him look at you again. You’re in awe for a moment, eyes flicking over his face before they land on his protruding fangs. They shine in the moonlight and he looks beautiful. So beautiful in fact, you kiss him again.

He doesn’t pull away.

You kiss a lot during the next couple of weeks. But if you thought this was to mark a change in your relationship, you’re wrong. Kissing is all you do, and you’re losing your patience. How are you expected to keep your cool when you have to see him multiple times a week? You’re turning desperate, and he knows it too.

Tonight you have your arms wound tightly around his middle, hugging him to your body that’s flat against your front door, mouth attached to his. He’d walked you to the threshold after your date, not expecting and surprised when you’d flung yourself at him dramatically. He’s into the kiss—you wouldn’t continue to embarrass yourself if you knew he wasn’t—he’s hard against your pelvis. The sensation only makes you more desperate, a wanton mess, before you try to pull him back when he breaks away. His fangs are out again and he’s partially out of breath.

“Let me see them,” you beg, tugging at the collar of his black coat.

“You have a fetish, Miss,” he chuckles, but he lets you have him.

Kissing when his fangs are extended isn’t as hard as you’d thought it would be. Each time they drag across your parted mouth or each time you run your tongue along them, you’re reminded of how much he’s into this—you. And oh, are you into him too. You want him. All of him. You want to feel what it’s like to be pleasured by him, taken by him.

But for some reason he thinks each opportunity isn’t the right one.

“Are you trying to end me?” He pulls away, voice affected terribly because you’ve just shamelessly ground against his erection. “We’re in public.”

“There’s no one about,” you shrug, straightening his collar that’s been pulled all shapes. “Besides, why don’t you just come inside?”

There’s a teasing to your voice that he hears but doesn’t do you any favours. Instead, it’s him doing all the messing around when he smiles and replies, “maybe another time.”

Before you can reply he has his hand in your coat pocket, reaching for your keys. In one motion they’re in the door and he’s turning the lock. You look up at him to see a smirk on his face and you scowl, to which he chuckles loudly.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, bending to kiss your cheek. “See you next time.”

And then he’s gone.

You don’t wait till next time. You mean business when you try and seduce him tonight. It’s halloween, and you know just the thing. Yoongi has mentioned in passing that he owns a nightclub. Not your average one at that. One for vampires…and humans. A place for folk to quench their curiosity. He’s told you the name of the place so it takes no time at all to google and find the address.

Club Dead.

It’s a little out of town but nothing that a taxi can’t solve and as you get out and pay the guy you stop to look up in awe. The building’s all black, door bright red and you can hear the blaring music and crowd from out here. It’s crazy to think Yoongi owns this place. It’s even crazier to realise he’s in there right now. And you’re turning up unannounced. Nerves fill you, but you carry on and step inside.

The place is pact, it’s hard to tell whose vampire and who is human. It’s even harder to find Yoongi. Maybe he’s in his office… Now that you’re here you realise you haven’t thought this out much… The club is loud and not your scene at all. Call him! That’s a great idea, but as you reach for your phone you’re interrupted when a large hand squeezes your ass.

“Hey there, pretty little thing,” the suspects voice leers in your ear and a bolt of dread flies through your body.

You twist on instinct, knowing it’s better to be facing this creep than have him behind you and you shoot him a look. Whatever he just did does not work as a flirting technique, it’s impossible to ever think it would. The stranger is middle aged and muscular, shaved head and from what you can see of his body, filled with tattoos. He’s still leering at you and you skin crawls.

“What’s a sweet girl doing in a place like this? Curious, are we?”

You swallow slowly, unsure if you can reply, but the more you stay silent the quicker he will realise he has the upper hand, and you can’t have that. While thinking, Yoongi suddenly pops into your brain and you wish he was here right now…maybe if you shouted, he’d hear you? You take a step back quickly, bumping into someone as they walk past. “I’m here to meet somebody,” you explain quickly, voice tight.

The stranger makes a show of looking left and right before a grin appears on his face. It’s not a nice grin, it’s unnerving and ugly, and you’re beginning to wish you’d never stepped foot inside this place. What were you thinking?

“I don’t think they turned up, babe. Why don’t I show you a good time instead?”

Whatever your retort was going to be, it’s wedged in your throat when you see the guy extend his fangs. He’s a vampire, and for some reason that makes this whole thing scarier. Just knowing that he’s definitely quicker than you, stronger than you and deadlier than you, has your heart beating ninety to the dozen.

“N-no thanks,” you speak up, trying to sound firm but the stutter gives you away and he laughs in your face, taking a step closer.

You shrink back, ready to scream if you have to, but then you feel an arm wrap around your waist. You jump, turning your head, almost expecting to see another one, but before you can see the new person’s face, you smell him. It’s Yoongi, and you’ve never been more relieved to see anyone in your whole life. His face is as hard as stone as he surveys the other vampire, and you almost shudder when you see how cold his eyes look.

“Get out.”

The stranger laughs again. “Who are you to tell me to get out?”

“I own this place.” Yoongi states, voice like ice, and you watch the shock appear on the vampire’s face for a moment, before he shrugs and smirks.

“Fine, but at least let the girl come with me.”

Your heart starts pounding again, afraid, because it looks like he’s not giving up. You shrink back into Yoongi further and he tightens his grip around your waist, reassuring you silently that he won’t let anything happen to you.

“She’s not going with you,” he chuckles darkly.

“Don’t you think it’s her decision?”

“She’s mine,” Yoongi snarls and even though you can’t see, you hear… His fangs are out and the stranger’s eyes widen in shock before he scowls, realising he’s lost and he storms away. Yoongi’s eyes don’t leave his figure until he’s out the club.

You go to say something to him, mouth open but before any sound comes out, he’s pulling you by the hand, making his way through the crowd. “Come,” he orders.

You follow behind him until you arrive at a door and he leads you inside. The room is square in shape, walls white with a desk in the centre. You guess it’s his office. The door clicks shut and you automatically turn to face him with a heavy heart, knowing he’s about to berate you. You’re not even half way done turning before you’re proven right.  

“What are you playing at?”

“I wanted to see you…” you tell him curtly, hands clasping in front of your lap.

“So you turn up unannounced?!” He exclaims. “This place is dangerous.”

Your narrow your eyes. “Why, because I’m a woman?”

“No.” He shakes his head tightly, “because you’re a human.”

You have no answer to that. He’s probably right. A club filled with vampires probably only means one thing and he proves it in his next statement.

“If you’re here, vamps automatically think you’re down for some fun.”

You are definitely not down for some fun—well, not with a stranger anyway… You’re here for Yoongi, and Yoongi only. There’s a moment of silence, an unspoken “I told you so,” hanging in the air before he has his hand on your hip, his head cocked to the side as he looks down at you, forehead creased in concern.

“Are you okay?”

You nod quickly. Now that Yoongi’s with you there’s no need to feel scared or worried. You know he’ll protect you, and you’ve never felt safer.

“How did you know I was in trouble?” You ask, mildly curious because you hadn’t seen him at all when you’d first stepped in the club.

“I think I’m finally tuned into your voice now,” he smiles briefly, but you’re hardly listening because you’ve just remembered something else… Something that had made your heart jump around like crazy for a moment back outside.

You must look like you’re in your own little world because you’re suddenly aware that Yoongi is looking at you slightly perplexed, wondering why you have such a massive grin on your face probably…

“What?” He wonders out loud.

“You called me yours,” you more or less glee, unashamed to tell him because, well, he’s the one who said it after all.  

He keeps a straight face and you watch him swallow before he’s taking a step closer. You’re hovering against the side of his desk when his arms wrap around your waist tightly, pressing your bodies together. “Are you not?” He asks, shrugging a little, a smug attitude that has your belly fizzing a little.

Even more so when he leans into kiss you, parting your lips instantly with his. His breath is hot and tickly, a sensation you will never get used to because he’s a vampire, he’s supposed to be dead! So why does kissing him feel so real? You could lose yourself in him and just when you’re about to, he pulls away. It’s always him pulling away, never you, because you want him. You crave him.

“What are you wearing?” He questions, one eyebrow raised as he holds you at arms length, eyes racking up and down your body, like he’s only now realised. For a vampire, he’s not very observant.

“It’s halloween,” you quip, tugging at the hem of your dress self-consciously.

“It’s not very scary,” he shoots back, looking at you as if you have two heads.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself a little before you carry on. “I wanted to dress up for you.”

It was true. You’d gone looking for the outfit yourself a couple of days ago, knowing exactly what you wanted to get. After watching that movie the other week with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about human Yoongi. In his element, in his decade. You’d wanted to be a part of that, or at least just a reminder of the past.

“Don’t I look good?” You press, feeling a tad nervous now that he hasn’t replied yet, still looking at you, but now features etched in deep thought. You tug at the hem of your flapper dress once again, feeling the dark embellishments graze against your fingers and fiddle with your hair. You hold your breath and wait, relief flooding you when he pulls you closer once more.

“You look amazing,” he beams, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose.

Your heart floods with warmth and it’s all you can do just to busy yourself and ask another question—changing the subject almost.

“What about you? Why aren’t you dressed up?”

“I’m too old for that,” he shrugs, going in for another peck at your lips and you kiss him back, all the while still trying to keep conversation going.

“I forgot you’re nearly a hundred,” you tease.

“Nearly 130 if we’re going to be exact,” he hums against your mouth, eyes catching yours as they dance with something… The atmosphere has changed by now, your voices low and breathing quiet.

“You look good for an old man,” you manage to get in with a grin before he’s kissing you with more vigour; eager and hard.

You latch onto him, arms around his neck as he pushes you against the edge of his desk, his hands traveling down your back until his palms are lying flush against your butt. It’s a new sensation. He’s never shown such keen interest like this before and your belly twists in delight, unable to stop yourself when a moan escapes your throat.

He likes that. His own gruff moan of approval sliding from him too as he pulls away for a moment to look at you, one of hands appearing again to cup your cheek. You try to keep his gaze but for some reason it’s difficult. His eyes are dark and intense, something you haven’t quite seen before and you end up shying away from him. He smirks, leaning forward, and you think he’s going to kiss you again—well, he does, just not on the lips.

His mouth feels foreign on your neck, wet tongue running against your sensitive flesh, plush lips sucking marks that stain your skin. You’re a mess now, a slave to his touch and you become weak in his arms, needing his body to hold you up. It finally feels like this is going somewhere. Something you’ve wanted for a while now and your heart is pounding at the thought. He wants you.

You’re able to think a little clearer when he pulls away again, letting him peck at your open mouth, both hands now holding your face. The first words that come out of your mouth are I missed you, but before you can wait for some kind of reply, you’re gasping in shock, taken by surprise when he grips your hips and pushes, lying you on top the desk in one fluid motion, his own body gracing over yours. You’re sure you’re lying on various things that are strewn

on his desk, stacks of paper, maybe even a pen digging into your spine—as your head falls back you realise you’re using a laptop for a pillow—but that doesn’t matter, not when you feel his mouth on yours again.

“It’s only been a few days,” he murmurs against yours, but you don’t mind. He must have missed you too if he’s acting like this and you grin against his lips, which he returns immediately.

You’re at a loss for words when his mouth trails down your chin and somehow he’s still kissing you. Feeling his lips and hints of wet tongue at your cleavage is enough to make you stop breathing for a moment, your body weak for his touch. You’re already squirming under him, his large hands clamping down on your hips as he holds you still and the heat between your bodies is almost burning you. You want him. So bad. And with the way he’s acting it seems it’s finally about to happen. You hadn’t expected it to be at such a place, but you want him so bad, you really don’t care.

“You really do look beautiful like this,” he awes, eyes locking when you look down to see him kissing at your stomach. The sensation is frustrating, wanting to know what it would be like without your dress working as a barrier. You want to feel him against your bare skin, and you’re beyond control, especially when he’s prying apart your legs to kiss just below your knee.

“W-will they miss you out there?” You manage to get out, although your voice is shaky by now.

It’s your way of trying to gauge what’s happening right now. Is this really going to carry on? You need to know so you can brace yourself. He shakes his head and carries on kissing your body, mouth behind your knee now, the most sensitive of places that has you gasping again, body jumping a little when you feel his fangs graze your flesh. You hadn’t even noticed they were out again, that’s how used to them you were, but now that you’ve felt them, you begin to wonder…

Yoongi had never discussed biting you, apart from when you’d first met at that bar and he’d told you he only feeds of humans if they’re mates, but you can’t say you’re not curious. You’ve heard during sex it’s the most divine pleasure and as you start thinking about it, and he’s still kissing up your leg, at your thighs now, dress falling up to reveal your skin, you begin to get more and more turned on; flesh clammy and breathing shallow. He’s so close to between your legs and your imagination only runs wild. You’re wet, you can feel it sticking to your underwear, see your nipples visibly poking out against the fabric of your dress. Your hands are getting ready to grip his shoulders, to get you ready for whatever’s about to come, but then—

“Yoongiiii,” you can’t help but whine as you feel him pull away from you.

“What?” He deadpans, acting none the wiser, when he knows exactly what he’s done.

You sit up slowly, dissatisfaction filling you as you realise what you want isn’t going to happen tonight. Your left turned on and annoyed, your wet thighs from all his kisses drying in the cold air, only adding to the memory that those few minutes are now.

“Did you think I was going to take you on my office table with an audience at the other side of the door?” He asks with a cocked eyebrow.

In more stable conditions, no, but he’d got you so riled up—on purpose, you may add, that you really wouldn’t have cared if he had. Just him saying the phrase ‘take you’ is enough to add to your colossal amount of sexual frustration, but you grin and bear it, standing up to face him, tugging your dress back in place.

“I should order you a taxi to take you home, I can’t leave this place until closing time and you’re definitely not staying in this cesspit one second longer,” he tells you, straightening up his collar. He pauses to watch you for a moment, a smirk widening on his face.

“You’re cute when you’re pouting,” he notes and you quickly rush to tell him he’s wrong. You’re not pouting, nope, not at all—even though yes, yes you are, but he doesn’t need to know that. However before you can, he’s making you gasp again, twisting your body to his so your back is against his chest. He does it on purpose, maybe to ease your worry—he’s hard under his slacks, because he wants you too. And that’s enough to get you home tonight without much of a fuss.

Your breath catches when you hear his voice against your ear, his words not helping your predicament at all. “…and when you’re trembling—desperate.” He enunciates each syllable clearly, making you wonder how it’s possible a voice can do such things to you and you collapse a little, just wanting him so much.

“I can hear your heart racing, your breathing’s out of control,” he carries on. “You deserve better than a quick fuck in my grotty club. You mean too much to me…”

You freeze abruptly, that one word swirling around your mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck….fuck. You feel like you’re dangling on the end of a string, your whole body burns with a want so deep it aches…and he loves every minute of it. Of course he does, for he has eternity to tease.

“Don’t worry,” he husks, his breath hitting your ear and it sends shivers up your spine, glad his body is behind you, so you can use him for support. You need it by the time he finishes.

“The wait’ll be over soon—but remember—I’ll have you when I say.”

The wait is over two weeks later. You nearly burst from all the wanting and longing when a package arrives at your apartment one morning and you open it to find a gift and a note inside. Yoongi’s note instructs you to open the large package first, tied with a black bow. You gasp when you unfold a stunning emerald green silk dress. You wonder if you can pull off such a piece, will it drape and flow in the right places?—Do you even have shoes that match? You’re too busy fretting that you nearly forget about the smaller package left in the box and when you open that next, you forget how to breathe. Lingerie. Staring at the items you reach out with a delicate hand, running your fingertips over the black lace, excitement and apprehension washing over you. His note now carries a different meaning.

Accompany me for dinner at my home tomorrow night. I’ll call a car for you. Remember to wear your gifts.

Forever yours, Yoongi.

.

.

You’ve never stepped inside his home in all the weeks you’ve been getting to know one another. It’s more than beautiful when you finally do, interior antique and gothic. Only what you would’ve guessed for Yoongi. It suits his aura, and now that you’re wearing the dress he’s purchased, you feel like you fit in.

To your surprise, he has dinner laid out for you on the dining table. It looks absolutely mouthwatering, and unless he’s hiding the fact he’s a chef now, you know he’s had someone cook for you. The fact that he’s pushing out all the stops tonight has your heart racing. You can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen next.

However, just like Yoongi, he plays it off cooly. He speaks about work, asking you all the small details, how you’ve been, what’ve you been up to… He’d casual and unfazed, sipping on his carbonated blood that takes the place of your champagne. You try to stay as collected as him, but you feel as if you’re on edge. Each nerve in your body is buzzing and you can’t seem to calm yourself. Your legs rattle anxiously under the table and you have to force your food down. You even leave half your lemon cheesecake. It’s heartbreaking. But you can’t seem to concentrate, under your dress the lingerie he picked out burns into your skin. Tonight is the night. It has to be. And you can’t keep imagining what’s to come.

After dining is done and you’ve had more than enough anxiety inducing small talk, that you can’t remember properly because your brain is fried, he asks if you want to see the rest of his house. You nod, unsure of what this entails, but a part of you knows the tour will end in his bedroom, so you wonder behind him, trying to practice your deep breathing exercises.

However, as soon as you step into one room—a music room of sorts, you guess—you see a musical instrument in one corner and gasp, all nerves disappearing for a moment.

“A piano,” you sigh in wonder and he nods—proudly you may add, and that makes you realise something. “You play?”

“It was…my occupation, shall we say, before I was turned into a vampire,” he explains slowly, He pauses while he thinks for a moment, and then he adds. “Want me to play something?”

“Yes please,” you half-plead. You’ve loved the sound of a piano ever since you were a little girl and to hear one right beside you—for your ears only, is a dream come true. Especially played by Yoongi.

You keep to his side as he sits down, hands hovering over the keys before he begins playing from memory, or maybe he’s just that talented the music flows from his fingertips. You’ve never heard the melody before and you wonder if it’s one of his own. Is he even more skilled than you first thought? Your heart fills with something at the thought, pride? It’s hard to pinpoint, but warmth floods your chest and you can’t help but sway to the tune a little on the spot.

He’s still playing when he turns his head to gaze at you, a smile appearing on his face. “You want to dance,” he realises, and stops playing abruptly. “Let me stop, play some music on vinyl so I can show you how talented I am at dancing too.” He jokes with a chuckle.

Your heart fizzes at the thought. He can dance, too? And you’re about to dance with him? He sets up the record carefully and takes your hands as the warm music fills the room. As he leads you, you almost forget that a moment ago you were aflame with nerves. Now you feel relaxed and at ease, gazing up at Yoongi as he grins at you. He looks beautiful, black hair styled against his forehead, the crispest of white shirts on, complete with a black bow tie. He looks radiant and you feel the same, it glows off you.

“I wish I could have seen you back then.”

The words fall out of your mouth before you can think. It’s something you’re curious about, and seeing him like this just makes you even more inquisitive.

“You forget,” he smiles, slowing your steps down.  “I never age. I looked the same then as I do now.”

“Still,” you argue, “just to see human Yoongi—to see if you’re the same.”

“Personalities don’t change no matter how many years go by.”

“So you’re saying you think you’re the same?” You ask sceptically.

“Expect for the insatiable need for blood, yes,” he jokes, halting all movement by now.

You’re still cynical. You don’t believe for one second a person would stay the same if they’ve been on the planet for over a hundred years—even more so seeing as said reason was because they were a vampire. Yoongi defies some of the things this world knows about the species, but you don’t think that doesn’t mean he hasn’t changed to adapt. Everything about him interests you and you can’t help but want to know more. You want to know everything about his life.

“Did it hurt when you got turned?”

Your question hangs in the air for a moment as he regards you. You can tell he’s not used to telling a person so much about his life, but when he opens his mouth to answer you, you’re filled with warmth, because he trusts you.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I was so in love I didn’t feel a thing.”

His reply surprises you. You know he turned for love, but imagining such a thing is incomprehensible. Not because you can’t imagine Yoongi loving someone, it’s just beyond fathomable to imagine loving someone so much that you’d want to live forever. That’s a commitment to make. One you wouldn’t take lightly. Was he that smitten that he became jaded?

“With your maker?” You ask, even though you know the answer already.

“Olivia,” he nods, “yes.”

He shifts on his feet and lets go of your hands. He’s not awkward, if anything it seems like he wants to talk about it, or at least wants to tell you. He’s just building himself up. Hearing her name makes her so much more real. You wonder what she looked like, beautiful no doubt, and you wonder—

“What happened to her?”

“She died,” he replies quickly.

“Oh,” you let out, shocked and instantly feeling like a fool. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—

“It was a long time ago,” he interrupts. “Before you were born. So I wouldn’t worry yourself with condolences.”

“W-what happened?”

He shakes his head and chuckles quietly, amused by something. “You really are curious. One day it could get you killed, do you know that?”

You’re silent in reply because he’s probably right. Your curiosity got you this far after all, and that run in at Yoongi’s club was pretty scary. Maybe you shouldn’t try to appease your wonder all the time.

“She couldn’t live without me,” he continues regardless and you frown a little. Where did he go? Why did they part ways, if they did at all?

“B-but…”

“I didn’t want her anymore. I didn’t love her,” he cuts in again and your eyes widen in shock, his honesty surprising you. How could someone who loved a person that much just fall out of love?

“I guess people fall out of love after years of bloodlust and bloodshed,” he shrugs, and things finally begin to make sense…

“I…I didn’t want to be that person anymore…a murderer—a monster…” he carries on, voice firmer, brave now. “Every time I looked at Olivia I was just reminded of all the terrible things I had done. I’m not one for blaming my actions on other people, but I knew without her I would be able to ease my conscience, or at least begin to anyway…”

“You broke her heart?” You whisper, not meaning to rub salt on the wound, but just to articulate your thoughts. That’s why she had died, because he wasn’t in love with her anymore… She couldn’t take it anymore…

Yoongi nods solemnly, sighing a little before he replies. “It turned out she still loved me as deeply and madly as she had the first day she’d met me, playing at a bar in France. In the end, she couldn’t bear life without me by her side…”

“How did you take it?”

“Would you think badly of me if I told you all I felt when she left was relief?” He asks you, regarding you seriously. “There was no more constant reminder of every horrendous thing that I had done in this world hanging over my head. I felt free. Being with her for so long sucked away all my humanity and it took me years to build it up again. Olivia had no humanity, that’s why she worked well as a vampire. I on the other hand…” he fades off, and you don’t think badly of him at all. How can you? The situation is a complex one and one you will never understand because you’d never lived it. You’re a human. It can never make perfect sense…

“I regret what happened—what I did to her in the end, but mainly I regret begging her to turn me,” he tells you truthfully and that’s one thing you can’t agree on.

“You shouldn’t regret it,” you argue, stepping towards him and cupping his cheek tenderly. “You’re an amazing, kind man.”

It’s true that you didn’t know him all those decades before. You don’t know what he’s done, or what he’s capable of—you can only imagine. However, what you do know is the here and now and the man that’s stood in front of you is breathtaking. He’s worked hard to change his life and because of that, you’re deeply proud of him.

“Man?” He questions, looking confused.

“Yes, man,” you smile. “That’s what you are to me.”

His forehead is crinkled as he thinks your words over and then he’s smiling back at you, holding your hand that’s gripping his cheek.  

“You’re sweet—too sweet for a man like me,” he tells you, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

“I don’t think so,” you murmur, rubbing your nose against his and then you’re kissing him yourself, hard, trying to show him how you really feel with actions because words are sometimes hard to express.

You don’t stop at his mouth, pulling away to kiss at his cheeks, nose, eyelids, whatever you can reach and he laughs and lets you. The sound is different to what you’re used to, more like a giggle, innocent and full of life and now you don’t feel anxious at the thought of spending the night with him. All this time you’ve been desperate to take it to the next stage but you’d missed the point; all this time was taken to get to know each other and now you’re fully comfortable with whatever happens next. Your relationship may not be a real relationship, Yoongi may buy you things and pay you to keep him company, but that doesn’t matter. There’s a friendship there, an attraction—a connection, and it’s special. Truly special.

Yoongi pulls away for a moment, out of breath and gasping. “When I’m with you,” he awes, “when I kiss you,” and to signify his point he kisses you again, breaking away with a groan, clutching the back of your head as he holds you to him. “I feel human again.”

Your heart clatters about in your chest, the blood rushing to your face, loud in your ears, his confession catching you off guard and it’s all you can do but to kiss him again, breaking away with a grin and your own admission.

“When I’m with you I feel invincible.”

He pauses for a moment and then he’s grinning. “The perfect match then,” and you nod. It’s true, at least it feels like it is. You’re kissing again, hands running over one another’s bodies. It seems natural tonight—no rush, no urge, just a mutual understanding. A mutual want, that’s finalised when Yoongi stops to regard you, eyes dark and loving as he asks the last question.

“Do you want to see the rest of my home—my bedroom?”

.

.

His room is spacious and dark, a large four poster bed on the back wall. It smells like him. You also find it funny how he needs such a place when he doesn’t even sleep up here, but it’s beautiful either way. You wonder behind him, hand latched in his as he leads you to the foot of the bed and he turns to face you, placing one gentle kiss on your mouth before he’s behind you, hand at the zip of your dress. You shudder in anticipation, chest heaving with adrenaline as you try to calm your excitement, pressing your palms to your lap in a bid to stay still.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” He murmurs and all you can do is nod, not trusting a single word to come from your mouth. Every sense is heightened right now, you can hear him begin to drag the zip down, the noise sending goosebumps down your spine, his other hand holding the top of your arm, hot under his touch, and then his breath hits the shell of your ear and it’s all over.

“Green is your colour, but I know black will be too.”

The zip hits the small of your back, straps falling down your shoulders to reveal the back of your bra to him, the black lace snug against your skin. Your heart is drumming loudly, waiting patiently for him to push the silk down your hips and finally his hand is leaving your arm to hold the fabric. He moves slowly, letting your straps fall fully down your arms to land in front of you and then he pushes downwards, the smooth silk sliding around the curve of your hips and ass. It glides off your body. He barely touches your skin which only makes you crave him more, and before you know it you feel a puff of air as your dress falls from you, pooling at your feet. There’s a pause as you wait for him to say something and you jump a little when he leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“Turn around for me,” he husks against your ear and you belly starts doing somersaults.

It seems like it takes a lifetime to face him, goosebumps appearing across the surface of your skin even though the room is warm. You lift your gaze once you’ve made it, catching his eye before his fall to your body, soaking in the sight of your lacy lingerie. Your brain tells you, you should feel self-conscious, but that’s far from the truth. You feel the most comfortable you’ve ever felt, even while he stands before you fully dressed. It’s exciting and you gasp a little when he places the palms of his hands on your hips, skin colder than yours.

“Beautiful,” he awes, and your heart swells, waiting with bated breath for his next move, every nerve in your body vibrating.

He leans in to kiss you, once, hard on the mouth before he’s pulling away and telling you to get on the bed. Again, time seems to move slowly as you climb on top the mattress, it’s like you’re on pins, willing time to go faster so you can finally feel him.

“Can you sit against the headboard?” He asks as he watches you move and you nod, sitting up so that your back is half leaning on the silk covered pillows and half against the wood of the large carved headboard. The cold is a welcomed relief against your flush skin.

You watch him admire you for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed, your legs unsure of what to do as you slide your feet against the bedsheet, looking for an appropriate way to place them. It seems too nerving to spread them, knowing he has a perfect view between them, so you settle on lying them flat to the bed. He smirks at something, you’re unsure what, maybe at your obvious fidgeting, and proceeds to unclip his bow tie, dropping it to the floor as he loosens a couple of his buttons with one hand—the large hand, the veins visible. Everything about this moment has your stomach dancing in anticipation.

You’re squeezing your thighs together by the time he joins you on the bed, crawling over you like an animal, still fully dressed and he uses his knees to spread your legs apart, fitting between them perfectly, the texture of his pants brushing against your bare skin. You go to open your mouth to speak but he’s on you again, kissing you hungrily, hands on either side of shoulders, gripping the pillows tightly, a growl leaving him. Your tongues mash together, messy and powerful, fighting to taste every last bit of one another. It has you moaning, finally all that pent-up tension being realised. He has you here, on his bed and it’s only going to end one way.

“You look good on my bed,” he rasps, sliding his mouth down your chin. “Maybe you should stay here forever.”

“That doesn’t seem like a bad idea,” you admit, unable to think of anything better at this moment in time, and you go to tell him that but end up gasping when his tongue runs along your collar bone, fangs grazing against the bone. Your body jerks up, unable to control itself, it craves him and you can’t stop it. You don’t what to stop it.

He’s kissing across your chest now, the swell of your breasts getting all the attention, but he still doesn’t touch you with his body; hands still gripping the pillows and body hovering away from you, a barrier that you don’t want to exist. You want his body against yours to ease the pressure, to feel him. You moan loudly when he starts sucking one of your nipples through the black lace, your heart falling back and hitting the headboard with a thud. Your hands shoot out to grip him—his hair, head, neck, whatever you can reach but he growls and grabs at them, pinning you down as he links his fingers with yours.

Kissing your chest feels pleasurable but it’s also sending you crazy, the pressure between your legs building up as you twist and turn, trying to relieve it desperately. He likes that, chuckling against your chest, fangs nipping at your breasts and that only sends you further out of control, belly plummeting as you feel the obvious wetness form inside your panties. The idea of him piecing your flesh is too much, sucking your blood, tasting the rich liquid you want to give him so badly…it’s making you whine, uncontrollable in his grip. You want that pleasure—you need that pleasure.

He pulls away with a gasp, surprising you slightly when he leans towards your face to rub his nose against yours, leaving go of one of your hands to run through your hair. His mouth is open as he pants loudly, fangs displayed for you to see perfectly. He looks divine—mouthwatering, and with your chest heaving you reach up with shaky fingers to touch his them, gliding your fingertips over the sharpest point. He shudders at the action, eyes closed and when he finally opens them again, they’re as black as the night sky, bearing into your soul, pleading almost.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers and you let out a breath. Is it that everything you want tonight will come true?

“Please,” he adds, looking hopeful, and you nod.

You’d want nothing more. Leaning up to kiss him, he smiles against your lips. It’s chaste before he pulls away and whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling you, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine.

“It won’t hurt, I promise,” he tells you, and his caring attitude knocks you a little, heart swelling inside your chest. You’ll never get over how chivalrous he is, even when he’s begging to bite you…

“It’ll feel good,” he carries on, placing a kiss against your neck. “I’ll make you feel good.”

His voice is low and effects you immensely. You want him to make you feel good, you really do. It’s all you can think of, and then you’re pulling him back to you, kissing him slowly, smiling shyly when you pull back to divulge something.

“I want to make you feel good too.”

He chuckles at that, kissing your forehead before straightening up, running his hands down your sides, finally touching you and you sink further down the bed. “You are already—trust me,” he lets you know and you smile wider, only to shriek suddenly when a hand travels to your chest and rips your bra in one clean movement, lace snapping in half to reveal your breasts, cold air hitting your nipples.

Your speechless at his strength, something he hasn’t shown you properly before and your heart pounds in your chest, looking up at him in awe. You only ease up when he begins kissing down your stomach, large hands wrapped around your waist and you moan when he runs his tongue upwards, muscles spasming under his touch, chest heaving as you watch him intently, goosebumps spreading against the surface of your skin as he grazes his fangs against the flesh before dipping his tongue inside your navel.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, unsure of what you want to say, you just need to get words out, to express the pent-up pressure inside your body and what rattles your mind. He squeezes you harder in return and you jut your hips towards him, needing some sort of relief, your feet failing to grip the bed as they slide along the sheets.

He growls, moving further down your body until he’s kissing your thighs, head forcing your legs wider. The pressure builds. He’s so close to your core the excitement is too much for you, your skin is hot and sticky, nerves tingling as he continues to lick and nip at your legs. You feel a sharp pain for a millisecond and realise he’s pierced the first layer of flesh, just deep enough for a couple drops of blood to spill out and he lets it settle on the surface before he laps at it. He sighs in great pleasure, like his thirst has been quenched and his tongue glides across the insertion, healing it before your eyes. You’d heard that a vampire’s saliva had healing properties, but to see it with your own eyes in something else and you ogle him in amazement, heart stilling in your chest for a moment. you almost forget your practically naked and desperate on his bed right now. Until he’s speaking again, and you’re very much thrown back in at the deep end.

“You taste delightful,” he praises. “Just like I thought. I can’t wait to have more…but first,” he hums, suddenly thoughtful, hands trailing down to hover over your clothed core. “…I want to taste you in another way.”

Your heart stops jumping around again, fingers gripping the sheets in anticipation. This time he tears your panties, the ripping noise sounding around the room as he tugs the material from you, exposing your soaked centre.

“They were new,” you pout.

“You’ll have to get used to it,” he tells you, unable to tear his eyes away from the one place he wants the most. “I’ll buy you more.”

Your belly fizzes at his admission, wondering to yourself what you’re getting into. If sex with Yoongi is like this every time, you don’t think you’ll be able to handle it. He’s still dressed, the polar opposite to you, who is now naked, the only thing hanging on your body the split bra. The sight turns you on even more. Your slouched now, your head the only thing leaning against the headboard as your back uses the pillows for support.

He’s silent as he makes a move, the pads of his index and middle finger brushing against your folds, parting the sticky flesh. You gasp silently, mouth open as you concentrate on his ministrations, eyes practically rolling back into your head when he begins to run circles against your clit. You’re sensitive, the sensation making you wriggle about; pressure almost too much but not enough… You’re so wet you can hear it, it squelches against his fingertips and he smirks.

“You’ve waited patiently,” he admires, sounding proud of you. “The wait is what always makes a thing better. I praise myself on my patience, but you,” he chuckles darkly, fingers stilling, “—you tested that. You made me fight myself until I couldn’t hold off anymore.”

His words are sending you into a pit of madness, an inferno aflame in the pit of your stomach as you try to get a grip off yourself. You’re tense, unable to wind down and it’s all you can do but to bite down on your lip, breathing loudly from your nose as you watch him descend between your legs. You have just about enough time to brace yourself, to feel his breath against you before his mouth’s attached.

The pleasure is instant when you feel his tongue glide against your folds and his fingers begin to rub circles against your clit once again as he practically makes out with your core. The hints of tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves has you squirming around the bed, sensory overload. It’s when he trails the muscle down until he reaches your hole, tracing around the flesh until he’s back to your clit again, repeating said action multiple times, you really feel yourself lose it. The graze of his fangs doesn’t help either, just adding to your desperation.

“Yoongi, please,” you beg, and you don’t even know what for.

He knows that too. Chuckling as his tongue is still attached to you, he pulls aways to speak, looking you directly in the eyes which only makes your stomach plummet, toes curling. Without him pleasuring you anymore, you’re back in square one, body burning for him, walls pulsing together in longing just to feel him. It’s frustrating and painful and you hate that he knows he has this much power over your relief.

“Begging and you don’t even now why,” he hums.

“I just want more,” you exasperate. “I want you to give me more.”

He chuckles again, the sound sending the tiny hairs on your body on end as he shuffles for a comfier angle. “What did I say earlier…always so curious…impatient, even…”

Your belly is jumping around like no tomorrow; the way he’s speaking, the way he’s acting…it’s doing things to you. Everything about him is one big tease and you almost want a chance at breaking that… You’re pulled out of your thoughts when he clamps his hands just above your hips, essentially locking you in place—at his mercy.

“First or all,” he silks, “if you want more, you need to stop moving around like I’m electrocuting you. How do you expect to enjoy it when you can’t take it properly? And second of all—” and when he pauses he looks you in the eyes, something flashing around in them—you don’t know what, but it makes your breath catch—before carrying on.

“—remember, you asked for it.”

You gasp loudly as he buries his head between your legs without a warning, tongue taking the place of his fingers. He takes no mercy, making sure your legs are as wide as they can get, feet planted on the bed. You need to hold onto something, but think better of using his hair, so you clamp onto your own thighs, digging your nails into the flesh as you squeeze, moans falling from you like no tomorrow. It’s when he begins sucking on your clit you can’t take it anymore, face buried against you and your walls clench for some other type of relief, but you are unable to move because you’re leaded down by his hands, squeezing your waist tight. You feel helpless and that only turns you on even more; you should feel frustrated, but the desperation only fuels you further. You become greedy, and you don’t care.

“What are you whimpering for?” He husks, pulling away slowly, a trail of his saliva dangling from a fang before it breaks and falls.

You hadn’t even realised you’d been whimpering, but by now you’re shameless, so it’s nothing when you admit to what you really want.

“Fingers,” you tell him. “I really want to feel t-them.”

“Is my tongue not enough?” He teases, smirking.

“But if you use your fingers, you can get me r-ready for your cock.”

You’re unsure what has gotten into you. You never usually talk like this, but it’s Yoongi. You lose yourself around him. You seem to have gotten to him too, because at that exact moment, upon hearing your words, he’s moaning deeply, eyes shut as if he’s trying to control himself. His fangs protrude over his bottom lip, chin coated in your arousal. It shines in the moonlight and he looks beautiful. Your stomach stirs once again. You crave him.

“Are you trying to weaken me?” He asks you, voice quiet. He sounds strained and for a moment you feel gleeful.

“Please,” you nod, hands reaching out to touch his face. “I need you.”

He watches you for a moment, leaning into your hand as if he’s considering your request. You open your mouth to add more but you’re cut off when he’s pouncing at you suddenly, hands leaving your waist as one snakes between your legs, fingers only after one destination. You moan out, the sound turning muffled when his mouth finds yours, tongue ramming inside, fangs clashing against your teeth. It’s messy, but urgent. You can feel how much he wants this and for once, he’s not as controlled as he usually is.

He wastes no time with pushing two fingers inside you, and your vagina takes them greedily, welcoming them inside and hugging them tight as he begins to push them in and out, sloppy noises filling the room because you’re so wet. You take him easily as if you were made for him, as if you were waiting your entire life for him. You can’t help the wanton noises that leave you because you’re so overwhelmed and you’re so happy at this moment in time. You feel full and you never want it to stop.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away to kiss up your neck and inside your ear, coating you in his salvia and your used arousal. You can even taste yourself on your lips and that just turns you on even more. “Fuck, I need you too. Can you feel?” He groans, pressing his clothed erection to your thigh.

You nod madly, moaning loudly. He’s so close to you, your pressed against the bed, a mass of sweat and tangled limbs as one of his legs pins you down, your head rammed against the headboard, hair a mess by now no doubt. But all you feel is pleasure. It courses through your body, burns out your veins.

“I want to feel you, I want to fuck you.”

His confessions are falling from his lips now, he’s a mess and you can feel how desperate he is with every word. Fangs nip at your earlobe and you wince, body jerking as he husks deeply into the shell, “I want to feed from you.”

His fingers fuck up into you faster, powerful actions that have you squeezing around them. He’s no doubt trying to control his urges with a distraction and you’re sure at the rate he’s going to make you come. You can feel the tightening of your stomach, feel the burn between your legs.

“You’re gonna cum,” he notices too, and you can’t get any words out to agree, just inhuman noises falling from your lips.

He greedily laps them up, mouth back on yours again and for a moment you can’t breathe, fighting for air, chest heaving when he begins using his thumb to rub at your clit, grunting against your mouth as fucks into you rapidly. It feels like you’re drowning in the pleasure, overcome, floating but sinking at the same time, limbs trembling, toes curling into the sheets.

“Watch my hand,” he grunts, breaking away from the sloppy kiss to look between your body, temple pressed against your clammy forehead.  “Watch me make you cum.”

The sight is enough to tip you over the edge. His arm between your body, the sleeve of his white shirt folded up to reveal the large veins that lace his creamy skin, traveling all the way down his hand, which is wedged between your legs, two of his fingers buried inside you while his thumb plays with your clit. The sight is too much to take in, especially when your gaze drops to your thighs, seeing them pushed wide opened and red, shaking rapidly with the forced of your impending orgasm.

His deep panting against your face is what finally does it and before you know it, you’re crying out, vision blurring as your head explodes and you’re coming all over his hand, clenching around his fingers, a gushing feeling leaving your body. It obliterates you and you’re left feeling weird, frail—weak, shaky, but deeply satisfied. You’re wetter than you were a moment before, feeling the sheets below you dampen your ass. It takes you a while to realise you may have come a little too hard. That’s never happened to you before, no wonder it feels so different.

Yoongi carefully removes his hand from between your legs, pushing your legs together with sticky fingers in a bid to relieve some of the ache in your joints as he massages them, and he grins, still panting loudly, kissing your cheek.

“You’re full of surprises,” he awes and you feel yourself blush—maybe it’s an immediate reaction to the unknown. However, as soon as he shifts to sit up, instantly undoing his shirt buttons, you forget all that.

And just like that, you want more.

He undresses swiftly before your eyes, revealing his marble like chest before he’s unbuckling his belt, the clanking sound sending fresh shivers of desire rattling up your body. And just like that he’s knelt on the bed, naked before you. Your mouth is watering as you sit up straighter, reaching out to touch him. He stops you, cupping your hands with one of his.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you let out, trying to touch him again but he shakes his head.

“This is your night,” he affirms, smiling when you go to argue. He takes his other hand to cup your face, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip and he pushes, the pad smooshing the flesh slightly. “This is just the first…you can show me how good you are at sucking dick another time. Right now, I want you fully.”

You gulp, affected by his words. You’re literally seconds away from what you’ve been craving for so long and you don’t know how to pace yourself, because you know as soon as he enters you, things will be totally different. You’ll be smitten, not that you aren’t already. You take a deep breath and nod, giving him permission to carry on as you lay your head back against the pillows. He crawls over you and you widen your legs once again, the glowing need for him back again.

He enters you slowly, taking it inch by inch and you tense your body, trying to ease up with the stretch. It feels amazing and you can’t help but grip onto the tops of his arms, anchoring him to you as he fills you completely. You lock eyes and share a smile; however you end up giggling when you accidentally squeeze around him and he groans, eyes closing, face pinched as if it’s almost painful pleasure. When he opens them again he leans down and kisses your mouth, voice strained as he speaks.

“You feel amazing—now I won’t ever want to stop fucking you.”

At his change in attitude, your stomach flips, getting ready to brace yourself for what’s about to come and before you can even think straight, he’s pulling out of you just to drive back in. A torturous pace soon turns monstrous as he snaps his hips against yours. You pin to his back, your nails leaving crescent marks in his perfect skin. His flesh is colder than yours which seems to help you. He acts as some kind of cooler, saving you and helping you keep a clearer mind. It allows you to concentrate on every little bit of euphoria he’s giving you. The carnal sounds of pleasure—moans, deep breaths, the slap of skin in skin—it all fills your ears.

You almost forget that he asked to bite you, only remembering when you feel his fangs graze along the column of your neck as he buries his face in the crook. But then it’s all you think and feel. Your whole body burns with the need for him to puncture you, taste you. You want to make him feel good, like you said, and you know this is the truest way. He’ll feel no pleasure like it, and you want that to happen with everything you have. As if he reads your mind— or maybe it’s the way you keep jutting your neck out, trying to rid the hair that covers the flesh, ride him into temptation—he groans to himself, nosing the supple skin between your neck and shoulder.

“C-can I?” His voice is shaking slightly, his arms that hold himself up tensing visibly and you wonder how much self control he has? It’s sexy that he can hold back so powerfully. Always a gentleman. And with that thought, how can you say no?

“Do it,” you whisper, fighting to turn your head to look at him as he stills all movement inside of you.

He looks comically surprised when he lifts his head to look at you too and you would probably giggle if you weren’t so wound up right now, so nervous, so excited…just a mess of emotions really… He catches your mouth with his passionately, catching you off guard for a moment, but you welcome it, running your fingers through his hair as your tongues clash together.

“It’ll feel good,” he hums, pulling away to trace little kisses down your chin, throat, and finally back to the spot he’s chosen. He kisses once, twice—runs his tongues along the clammy flesh and then kisses a last time.

Your heart thuds against your ribcage. You don’t know what to expect, but you do know you want this to happen. You want it more than anything. You slide your hands back down his back and wait patiently. He’s still inside you but hasn’t moved since you asked him to bite you and you try to concentrate on the pleasure of feeling so full. You and he are connected. It won’t hurt, he’s already told you that and you trust him. You trust him with your life. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod, realising he can’t see at the last minute so you let out a croaky yes, throat dry. His hands move to cup your sides, giving them a gentle squeeze, he can feel you trembling so he’s trying to ease your nerves.

He goes slowly. Nothing like you’ve seen in movies or even just imagined. He punctures the skin cleanly and groans as he has the first taste. You hardly feel a thing, akin to pin prick just more intense, and the sucking motion as he lets your blood run down his throat only heightens the pleasure. You can hear it as he swallows and you moan a little, surprising yourself. He moans back pulling away slightly to begin thrusting back into you and that’s when the euphoria becomes out of this world.

He runs his tongue along your flesh, collecting the red liquid that spills out, grunting to himself as he fucks you faster, losing himself almost, and his hands leave your body to clamp ahold of the headboard, muscles in his arms taunt, veins set to burst as he uses the leverage to go harder. You’re moaning now, loudly, spreading your legs wider, needing him as deep as he can go. You feel drunk almost, drowning in serene and you run your fingers over his chest, wanting to never let him go.

When he pulls away from your neck to look at you the sight of your blood running down his chin makes you gasp. You’ve never seen anything so beautiful and you want to kiss him. Oh, you want to kiss him so badly, it aches. His eyes are black, blown out and urgent and you guess he wants to kiss you too because before you know it, he’s on you, tongue pushing its way into your mouth and you taste the familiar metal against the muscle. It only makes you wonder what you taste like to him. By the way he’s affected, it must be good. That makes your heart swell. Especially when he begins gushing.

“You taste out of this world,” he practically moans. “Why have I waited this long to taste you?!” And this time you can’t help but giggle, feeling like you’re floating in the air. He seems mesmerised, maybe even drunk himself.

When he finally breaks free from your mouth—because you won’t let him, of course, his gaze is like fire, face serious—determined, and he begins fucking you with more force, roughly into the bed, hands still clutching the headboard as it rattles behind you. His skin glows in the moonlight and you’re in awe. He’s beautiful. Sculpted like a statue. He’s going so hard you know you’re about to come again. You can feel the familiar stretching in your stomach and you’re moaning louder and crazier, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

“Again?” He questions, amused. His strength and stamina are more than any human and you’re finding it hard to keep up. It will take some getting used to, that’s for sure.

Before you can even think to nod he’s picking you up, his arms sweeping under your body to flip you on top of him. It’s so fast you’re out of it for a moment before realising you’re straddling him. He’s inside you and he’s sitting up too, holding your hips. You’re glad because by now you’re incredibly tired, body worn out but still chasing that pleasure you never want to burn out.

“I want to make you feel good,” he pants and you realise he’s probably nearing his release too. “So tight and wet and mine, all mine…” he rasps.

He’s fucking you faster this time, not as hard but definitely with more speed, wanting you to come around him. When he bites you the second time you’re taken by surprise, crying out. He’s rougher, snarling as he throws his head back to latch onto your left breast with vigour. Your orgasm hits you instantly, unbelievable to think that a bite could give you such immediate pleasure. It’s startling and powerful and you cry out louder, gripping onto Yoongi’s shoulders as he carries on sucking the red liquid from your flesh. It runs down your chest, you feel it trickling before it dries, and all you hear is the suckling and gulping noises that come from him as he takes you, still fucking you through your orgasm, thrusting his hips into you, bed jolting with the force.

When he fills you with his seed after a few more snaps, you feel invincible. Like nothing on this earth can harm you. You feel full, you feel sated and you could die happy.

You’re a mess when he pulls away and out of you, lying you on the bed as he hovers over your body. You’re tired, worn out, limbs aching and trembling, dried blood staining your body, but he’s healed your wounds. You only have the buzz in your veins to remind you of his marks. Like you’re high on the most wonderful drug. Min Yoongi.

“We should have a shower,” he chuckles. “You’re a mess.”

“I can’t move,” you pout, eyes half closed.

“I’ll carry you,” he quips.

And he does, strong arms wrapping around you to take you into his bathroom. You don’t remember much after that. He runs the shower, cleans you and takes you back to bed. Somewhere along the way he’s removed the soiled sheet and replaced it with a new one. The bed like new and now you’re inside, as warm as can be. Yoongi sat beside you on the edge as he runs his fingers through your damp hair—something he had tried not to get wet, but had failed miserably.

“Was I worth the wait?” He murmurs. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open but you manage to squint at him for a moment, getting him into focus.

“I want more.”

He laughs loudly at that, halting movement to push the sheet over your shoulders and tuck you in. “You’re delirious. I think I took too much blood.” He lays beside you as he speaks, burying his head in your neck. “But I couldn’t help it—you’re just too goddamn tasty,” he jokes, his voice contorting to that of a man speaking to his pet. It’s weird, doesn’t suit him, yet does at the same time. You giggle and embrace him.

“I’m not a steak.”

“Hm. That’s true. But you’re mine.”

You smile passively, too tired to give him more of a response, although your heart does feel warmer at his words. You don’t understand it, you’re just a human, so this possessive vampire talk goes over your head, but maybe deep down you should question the way his words make you feel… Not tonight though, you’re exhausted, and his bed is just too comfy to try to fight the sleep that wants you…

“I won’t be here when you wake up.”

You’re aware Yoongi’s speaking again but it’s wavering in and out of volume as you sink closer into slumber. You hum in reply. You get it, it will be daylight and he’ll be asleep himself.

“Will you stay here tomorrow, so we can spend the night together again? I’ll only be in the basement. There’s things to eat in the kitchen if you’re hungry…unless you have plans?” He adds, sounding unsure of himself, as if he’s just realised he’s babbling too much.

You reach blindly for his face, trying to find his cheek to cup with your eyes closed and when you do, you tap it reassuringly, clumsily… “I’ll stay.”

“You will?”

And you nod, literally seconds away from falling asleep. He gets that, finally, and wraps his arm around your shoulders, hugging you to him as he kisses your hair and you inhale, taking comfort in his scent; he smells like the lemon shower gel he’d used in the shower. You’ve never felt so relaxed, despite your tired and aching limbs.

He hums against your hair, squeezing you gently.

“Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

#yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi scenarios #bts scenarios #floralseokjin:writings #fic:ttos

[imagine-wannaone]

Hwang Minhyun Soulmate au!

Minhyun is up!

• So you have a tattoo and your soulmate will have the exact same one,

• Stretching across your back you have the black outlines of a desert fox leaping downward towards your hips,

• The lines curling with intricate details and patterns, the tail billowing up onto your shoulder and curling a little down your arm almost looks to be imitating fire,

• It’s all filled in and shaded with creamy oranges and browns,

• You have to say it is beautiful,

• It’s a shame you can only see it with mirrors,

• But boy did your parents scream in surprise when they picked you up when you where 5 and that had appeared,

• You didn’t know it was your soulmate key but you could feel it was already important to you,

• People were always asking to see it or something but you kind of didn’t want to show them,

• It’s special to you, yanno, and it’s yours and your soulmate only,

• But you’re nice so you show them anyway,

• Plus someone might know your soulmate and could introduce you two, you never know,

• What always gets you is you could walk past your soulmate every day and just not know,

• It could be curling across the back and you just Can’t!! See!! It!!

• Why do shirts exist, wouldn’t everything be easier without them?

• You’ve tried to draw your little fox forever, since you where 7, but it always seems to be missing something,

• It never seemed to hold the spirit you associate with it on your skin,

• If your soulmate is anywhere near as beautiful as people say your marking is, you’re lucky,

• You’re part of a dance troupe that enters a lot of competitions and does a load of back up dancing and things,

• There’s a competition and you’re stretching in your waiting room,

• Nervous as hell,

• It’s a group dance competition but there isn’t any sort of criteria for the dances,

• So a dance with B-boying could go against ballet,

• You and 5 others are doing a modern slow emotional number and damn,

• You hope you can make someone cry,

• Not with how awful it is god no, but with the emotion in the dance and how damn beautiful it is,

• Otherwise this’ll get awkward,

• You don’t specialise in anything in particular,

• Hip hop, ballet, modern, tap, you can do it all,

• Jack of all trades, master of none,

• (But better than a master of one, right?),

• You and your best friend are doing some mean partner stretches that can me compared to some complex next level partner yoga positions,

• You’re all wearing those tight shorts with a see through skirts and almost like a sports bra to showcase your marking in navy blue,

• Why can’t it be acceptable to dance in tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie in these competitions?

• Your small group make their way to the side of stage,

• The flowy skirts all seem to make it look like you’re drifting,

• You must admit it’s pretty,

• You get to watch the performance before you and it really doesn’t help,

• In any way at all,

• For so many reasons,

• You are ready to run away, and not just because of the dance,

• Which is extremely extra by the way,

• It looks like hip hop, 11 boys moving incredibly quickly and in sync to the beat and-

• Holy shit was that some taekwondo?

• It’s okay you got this, your aerial cartwheel looks as elegant as they can get,

• The thing that grabs your attention and makes you forget everything is one boy,

• Smooth looking brown hair bounces with the beat and his careful features meld into each other in a way sculptures could never capture,

• His skin is unbelievably clear and he dances like every move was made especially for him, with a confidence you only hope you dance with,

• Your breath is caught in your throat but his outfit doesn’t help,

• He’s wearing a open back shirt and you can see the swirling patterns with orange hues that paint his back and move with his muscles,

• He dances with all the stealth and agility of a desert fox and it all makes sense,

• “Y/N, are you okay, do you want to sit down?” your best friend has also spotted him , a huge smile spread across her face,

• You can feel the happiness In your chest but the panic is in your head,

• What if he doesn’t want you?

• What if your dance isn’t good enough?

• Okay that’s over exaggeration of course you dance is good enough- it’ll blow his mind,

• Your not going to let your soulmate get in the way of your performance though,

• No one gets in the way of you and your passion,

• Except spiders, 

• (Australia pls tell me how to survive spiders, asking for a friend),

• Your head becomes slightly dizzy when the boys walk past you off stage,

• But then they smile at your group and a few wish you good luck, and your head clears,

• The 6 of you float onto the stage and you can hear the whispers,

• It could be about the last boys, about your performance or what they’re having for dinner,

• But your mind makes you think it’s about you,

• Many people often whisper About your marking when they see it,

• And they might have put the pieces together and sussed out you’re competing against your soulmate,

• YOUR SOULMATE,

• That sounds so weird,

• The lights brighten on your group, caught in the still image that’ll start your performance when the music comes on,

• You watch the boys file into their seat in the crowd, like all performers do after they’ve finished their dance,

• You’re calm, you can flow like the wind and move like a stream,

• You can be as fierce as fire or as gentle as a feather,

• You can do this,

• You get through your performance better than you ever had in practice, 

• Even you can feel the emotions radiating off of the others,

• You pour in all of your feelings right at that moment into your movements,

• The dance shows the love between 2 people who had both lost their soulmates, and were mending each other in their own ways,

• Love between 2 people who aren’t soulmates is always a risky subject but what is art without a meaning?

• In the end one of the people dies from heart break and leaves the other person (A.K.A. you) alone to survive in a world where everyone else is coupled off completely alone,

• You can feel his eyes on you as you jolt into your final position, quietly heaving, not just the dance making you breathless,

• You don’t know how you know it’s his eyes, but you do,

• God, your already soft for the man before you’ve even made eye contact,

• But you have watched each other dance, which is a whole different level of intimacy,

• Your group bows and glides off stage, arms slung around each other in exhilaration,

• The 6 of you jog towards the seating for dancers but you spot him stood at the side eyes fixed on you as if you’re something unobtainable,

• You stop dead in your tracks a couple of steps away from him, just beaming at him, 

• He cracks the most beautiful smile that has ever touched your eyes, one that breaks through his delicate features to show an completely innocent look,

• “That was the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen,”

• Before you know it your legs have closed the gaps and you’ve thrown your arms around him because nothing else feels more natural,

• The rest of the crowd pretends they’re not watching,

• Because not many things is more beautiful than watching two soulmates meet, right?

• You break away and spin him around

• (Much to his surprise),

• You run your fingers along the swirling lines of a desert fox and choke a laugh,

• It is as stunning as everyone says, the lines connect and twist in a way that seems effortless and easy, although you can see it isn’t,

• He shivers when you trail over the patterns on his spine and you blush, stepping away,

• But then he takes the opportunity and does the same, his touch on your back tingling with warmth,

• You win the competition and you have no doubt who you owe the win to,

• Your dance group because they taught you how to dance and encouraged you for years,

• Okay maybe Minhyun as well for the emotion,

• You all have a after party to celebrate and Minhyun and his group is definitely forced to come invited,

• You totally don’t spend the night dancing with your soulmate…

• Cus damn he knows how to move, look at that body roll and-

• Stop, you only met today,

• Dancing seems to link the two of you in a way no one else can understand,

• The next competition you enter it’s another slow song,

• As a duo,

• Cue your friend squealing at your cute choreography,

• Your two groups always have dance battles or do collaborations,

• Which are dangerous damn, two of the strongest groups together?

• All the other groups fear the day,

• But more importantly you always make sure to enter the same competitions to show them how it’s done,

• The next competition you entered you did a hip hop dance,

• Minhyun was not prepared ™

• Low key had to take a breather outside,

• But he met you out there too because you also had to take a breather-  his dance was too extra for your poor heart,

• Whenever you dance together you stretch together and Minhyun takes over from your best friend,

• (They conveniently had to stretch with someone else),

• So you high key become that cheesy couple you see at the gym that seems intimidating and scarily synchronized,

• You guys become infamous for your performances,

• The judges are shook, the crowd is shook, your competitors are shook, the scouts are shook, your neighbor is shook,

• Many scouts approach you two,

• You aren’t going to hold back in competitions just because he’s your soulmate though,

• And damn boi, neither does he,

• You don’t really plan to go on dates but you just find yourselves in the cinema or eating lunch at the park together or going to dance shows,

• Forever doing freestyle dances with no planning Together and you just seem to know what the other will do and flow perfectly,

• Low key have the power to make others cry if you want to,

• But the familiarity with each other from the beginning is no joke,

• He knows you love back hugs and you know he love it when you nuzzle into his neck,

• Fit into each others arms like you’re one made for one another,

• Which I mean, you are , you’re soulmates 

Tbh this one was really fun to write. I don’t know a hell of a lot about dancing but it’s incredibly cool so I hope this is good, thanks for reading~

#hwang minhyun #nu'est #produce 101 #pd 101 #broduce 101 #wanna one #oneshot #fanfic #headcanons #scenario #soulmate #identifying marks #imagine #og admin

[fantasysuiteleague]

Week 1 Recap: Same Shit, Different Colors

It’s easy to get excited thinking this season of the Bachelorette is going to be different. Rachel is the first Blachelorette, it’s the most diverse cast in the history of the franchise, and she is really smart and down to earth and has a real, sustainable job. (Yes, I’m aware Andi was a “lawyer” too, but also, she wasn’t.) Believe me, as a black female attorney perpetually surrounded by white people I know should be excited. This is my jam. 

If anyone can relate to Rachel and her search for true love (lol), it’s me. But aside from the color of people’s skin, this season will be no different than any other. The guys will still be macho, aggressive, and pathetic. The dates will still be awkward and infuriatingly low budget. The drama will still be manufactured. And at the end of all of this, Rachel will still walk away with a fake fiancé she barely knows. Sure, there will be certain dynamics that you wouldn’t otherwise see in the standard white girl season, but ultimately, this show will remain pretty fucking stupid. 

Fresh Meat 

As we dive into the spotlight segment of the episode it’s hard not to notice that everyone we meet is a minority (except the guy with the dead mom and the guy with the brain injury). I find myself annoyed by this only because it makes me “wonder” where these guys have been and why ABC “hasn’t been able to find” anyone but the same white guy to come on this show. Anyway, the first seven guys ABC wants us to pay attention to include:

Kungfu Kenny, the cute professional wrestler from Vegas with a 10 year old daughter.

Jack, the lawyer from Dallas who has a cute dog and a dead mom.

Alex, the meathead coder from Detroit who speaks Russian and is almost certainly a deep cover agent.

Mohit, the Bollywood dancing start up guy who doesn’t stand a chance.

Lucas, an aspiring Doritos spokesman and all around idiot. 

Blake, the creep who couldn’t stop talking about his amazing penis.

Diggy, a fasion bae from Chicago who might also be gay.

Josiah, the smooth talking lawyer from Florida with a Stomp the Yard story line.

After Rachel gets some last minute advice from half of the cast of Nick’s season, it’s time for limos. Per usual, we had some awkward lines, over the top entrances, stupid props, and a lot of bowties. Here’s a quick rundown:

The first guy named Peter was boring yet charming. Adam brought a doll which was pretty alarming. Steve Urkel was cute, Dean was awkward and lame, DeMario is clearly only here for the fame.

Josiah had a weak line about reasonable doubt, While some big guy name Iggy continued to pout. The penguin looked silly, Milton looked chic, And the Tickle Monster guy is a fucking freak.

The dick guy showed up with a full marching band, The rest blurred together and were horribly bland. And just when I thought we had a full room, Some douchebag arrived and screamed out WHABOOM.

Cocktail Party

Soon after Whaboom enters the mansion and puts everyone on notice that he is a psychopath, the cocktail party starts. I can’t say I’m surprised that Josiah is the first to steal Rachel away, or that he quickly launches into his good kid then bad kid then good kid back story. Nor am I surprised that right away the other guys start talking shit about him for doing something they should have done first. It’s classic Bachelor. After Rachel shuffles through a few duds, Bryan the Colombian with too much botox whisks her away to a more isolated location. Bryan tells her exactly what she wants to hear: that he’s 37 (with the face of a 24 year old) and is ready to settle down and get married. Even though Botox Bryan looks like a total douchebag and his flirting errs on the side of fuckboi, Rachel is really into it. So into it that she overlooks the fact that he kisses her like a plunger would a toilet.

Throughout the night we’re treated to a number of clips featuring DeMario, this season’s Corinne. Prior to the start of the night, Whitney “warned” Rachel that DeMario may not be here for the right reasons because she knows a girl who knows a girl who knows a guy who dated a girl who says DeMario is a clown. But OF COURSE HE IS. His name is DeMario. And beyond the racial profiling, anyone that comfortable and smooth in front of a camera in a situation like this has fuckboi written all over them. But I don’t find his arrogance offensive just yet. He’s more amusing than anything, and honestly asked Rachel the right question (N*Sync or Backstreet Boys). I have a feeling he might be the guy with the girlfriend (per season previews), but I also think that’s what ABC wants me to think, so for now I remain skeptical but excited. Eventually we get to Whaboom, who sucks. Prior to his 1-on-1 time with Rachel, he spends the entire night Whabooming around the house and shouting into his megaphone. Admittedly he got a laugh out of me when he started narrating Rachel’s time with Hugh Dancy lookalike Peter, the boringass guy from Wisconsin who will probably be the next Bachelor. Pretty much everyone in the house has the same reaction to Whaboom and even encourages him to an extent,

except Blake, the “great dick” guy from the drum line. (Wow, I can’t believe that sentence is about a white guy). Signaling to everyone that he has approximately no chill, Blake takes it upon himself to “confront” Whaboom for being a tool. The problem, of course, is that Whaboom clearly does not give a fuck about what Blake or anyone else thinks because “everyone has a little Whaboom in them.” Sure, but that the part of ourselves we hate. Despite being unattractive and cognitively impaired, Whaboom gets the final rose of the night, confirming my initial hypothesis that this season won’t be any different from the rest, and ultimately, this show remains pretty fucking stupid.  

Did you notice . . .

575 pairs of sneakers seems like an incredible waste of money, Diggy

Also, we’re gonna have a Diggy and Iggy on the same season? 

Speaking of Iggy, he literally could not stop complaining about every single guy that walked through the door. Like dude, this show thrives of first night gimmicks. Stop being such a bitch.

While DeMario and Joshiah were swaggering around in the midst of a pissing match, a group of white guys were huddled across the room discussing how loud and obnoxious they were being. I’m not saying it’s a race thing, but it will be interesting to see who sticks together on this show.

“He’s not ‘look at me I’m drunk’ he’s ‘I almost just missed that step drunk.’” RIP Mohit. 

Everyone in the background watching Whaboom’s 1-on-1 time with Rachel.

Adam Jr. stole the show. I really hope he sticks around the house for awhile. Those of you who follow my snapchat know I’m a big fan of lifelike dolls. (that sounds weirder than it is, I promise)

Peter saying he “put a lot of things on hold to be here” is so fucking obnoxious. Of course you did, that’s the fucking point. Don’t try to act like you slutting yourself out on TV is some grand gesture for Rachel and that she should be grateful for you. There are literally hundreds of basic ass white men who would love to put their shitty jobs on hold and bro out with some personal trainers in California. Fuck off, guy. 

Milton crying was the highlight of the episode for me.

Minority Report .. or should it be Majority Report? It’s too difficult to track how many there are or what they’re doing (although Jeff Sessions is trying his best), so I’ll use this space to discuss those we lose each week. This week, it’s Blake K., that super cute Asian guy who DEFINITELY shouldn’t have been kicked off. Pretty much everyone on the internet agrees she made a huge mistake letting him go and keeping the TICKLE MONSTER weirdo and Whaboom, but like I said, this show is stupid. But based on the love he was getting on Twitter, I won’t be surprised if he makes it to Paradise this year. I just hope he doesn’t pair up with Caila. Gag.

#the bachelorette #The Bachelor #bachelorette abc #rachel lindsay #chris harrison #bachelor recap

[girl-of-ink]

Hey! First of all, I love your blog 💖 and are you still doing blitzstone hc? Could I ask for some wedding cerimony headcanons? Or just cute hc in general! Thanks so much 💖

Sorry this took so long, I had a lot to say! I loved writing these!! To anyone else who may have sent me requests, they’re coming

- it’s a few years after preventing Ragnarok for the last time-hearth & blitz are around 24 maybe?-they’ve been dating ever since a little before the last possible-Ragnarok when they ended up having a pre-battle, heat-of-the-moment, I-don’t-want-to-lose-you-without-telling-you-how-I-feel Kiss-but anyway, Blitzen’s best is thriving & Hearth’s magic is way better than it used to be & everything is good and pure- Blitz proposes like this: on the anniversary of the day Blitz found Hearth in Nidavellir, they go out for dinner in a fancy restaurant, and then (after sundown) take a walk in a park they used to stay in while they were homeless. -They end up at a quiet fountain w/ no one else around. The street lamps shine off the water & in Hearth’s eyes. It’s dark enough to be romantic & secluded but bright enough to sign easily. -Taking a deep breath, Blitz gives a little speech (signing & speaking) about how much Hearth means to him & how he’s his everything. This information is nothing new, but Hearth is still completely in awe. - By now he has the suspicion Blitz is planning something big, but he’s still completely overwhelmed when the tiny dwarf actually gets down on one knee. He doesn’t pull the ring out right away, bc he has to ask Hearth, will you marry me? - And of course the answer is obvious, they’ve been living together for years now, they’re absolutely a package deal & there’s no way Hearth’s gonna say no. So he just nods and signs Yes really excitedly & pulls Blitzen up to kiss him & then Blitz pulls the ring box out of his jacket pocket and opens it. - It’s silver & simple & elegant & it has perthro engraved on the band. Both their hands are shaking when Blitz slides it onto Hearth’s ring finger. They kiss again, laughing bc everything is falling perfectly into place. This is their dream come true.- they get Blitz a ring too. It’s gold & has a wider band than Hearth’s with the same engraving of their family’s symbol- they invite Magnus, Samirah, & Alex (who has become a part of their family too) over to tell them & the kids are beyond excited for their dads- so for the actual ceremony, it’s pretty small- just the family, the Floor 19 Crew, Inge, and Freya (Blitz didn’t want to invite her, but Hearth convinced him. She’s your mother, Blitz. And she’s the goddess of love- it’s not like she doesn’t know we’re getting married! If we don’t invite her, we’ll never hear the end of it.)- Halfborn performs the ceremony, bc he has definitely been ordained at some point in his 1200 year stay at Valhalla- Magnus is their best man, Samirah is the maid of honor-Alex is the ring bearer - Blitz designed everyone’s outfits, obviously. He’s still salty about not designing the outfits for the fake wedding with Thrym tbh. He can’t say it, but he def wants to show up Sif- and he does! Hearth wears a white suit + his scarf bc it’s 100% necessary. Blitz insisted he not wear black for once. Blitz’ pants & suit jacket are black but his vest is red to match the scarf. He’s wearing a bow tie too- Magnus’ tux is gray w/ a white vest. His hair is grown back by now so it’s braided on one side to keep it out of his face during the ceremony- Samirah’s dress is green again with silver lace & her hijab has silver threads in it for accent- Amir’s tux is deep purple & he’s perfect and beautiful- Alex is female & her dress is a very pale pink & her makeup is green. The dress stops around knee-length & is very twirlable. Magnus is dying- jack is here & he insisted upon having a bow tie tied around his hilt- Blitzen threatened to throw a fit if Halfborn showed up half-dressed like always, so the beserker relented. His suit is dark brown & his beard is braided neatly- Mallory’s dress is a lighter green than Sam’s and is sleeveless. Her crazy hair is tamed a bit & falls around her shoulders. Halfborn has to concentrate very hard on the task at hand- TJ refused to wear anything besides his union jacket but he let Blitz fix it up a bit.- Freya is literally gorgeous, as always. She’s wearing about forty pounds of jewelry & Blitz wonders which piece was responsible for his life until Hearth takes his hand and smiles at him- Inge is a free hulder now & is pretty close w/ hearth & blitz. Her dress is light blue & her hair is in very elaborate braids. Blitz asked whether she wanted a hole for her tail in the dress & she decided yes. She wears her tail proudly nowadays & is very active among the movement to free the huldrefolk - also I don’t think anyone invited him but oh look, there’s Odin! The weirdo shows up about two minutes before the ceremony starts and is like “how could I miss the wedding day of my greatest pupil??” And hearth is so green- tbh I bet Thor & Sif show up too & by this point it’s like…. Any other gods planning on showing up last minute or can we get married already? This is the exact moment when their former boss the severed head appears right in the middle of the aisle & Amir nearly faints- when Thor shows up Hearth is definitely like who the fuck invited him, that giant dumbass is going to ruin our wedding!! Thor’s just kind of like “Wow my good friend the elf is so happy to see me!!”- there’s also a suspicious bird at the window… Utgard-Loki…. Is that you, you sneaky fuck- Marvin & Otis are sitting in the very back of the room with the very strict instructions not to eat any furniture. Otis starts crying in the middle of the vows & chews off an armrest anyway- after all mystery guests arrive, they can finally start. - Blitz’ vows start out with him talking about finding hearth in Nidavellir & how important and life-changing their friendship was immediately. He tells hearth who absolutely incredible he is & how honored blitz is to be marrying him.- hearth’s vows describe how he’d always thought he’d be an empty cup for his whole life, but he never knew that from the moment blitz found him he was being filled more & more everyday bc of their friendship, and how blitz was the first person hearth ever trusted and he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have him for their whole lives- they exchange rings & they’re both near tears- Halfborn says “by the power vested in me by the world of Valhalla, I now pronounce you dwarf & elf. You may kiss the groom” and blitz grabs hearth’s scarf and yanks him down for the kiss & everything’s beautiful- Magnus definitely cries. The kid’s dads are getting married, give him some slack- Alex teases him, but her eyes were a little misty for a while there too- they don’t really have a reception, but the very extended family (so basically the empty cups + floor 19, Amir, & Inge) go back to blitz & hearth’s apartment to celebrate- blitz bridal-carries hearth over the threshold & it is the cutest thing ever- one of the boys probably had a bouquet to throw. Sam catches it & she and Amir don’t stop blushing all night- big tearful family hugs. Blitz, hearth, Sam, Magnus, & Alex having a giant family group hug while the kids are so happy for their parents- Alex teases Samir & Gunderkeen about when they’re gonna tie the knot. Mallory & Samirah retaliate by bringing up Magnus & making Alex blush a lot- Inge dancing with hearth & telling him how happy she is for him. She just loves him so much wow. I like to think by this point although she obviously still loves him, she’s gotten over him mostly & maybe has a cute elf gf that’s also active in the free-the-huldre scene.- Inge dancing w/ blitz afterwards & giving him a stern “don’t you dare hurt that boy” speech but obviously he’s not gonna & they’ve all been friends now for years so by the end they’re just laughing - blitz & hearth having the first dance as a married couple & just swaying and holding onto each other and at the end they kiss & it’s really slow and sweet and beautiful and I’m dead

This was. Really freaking long, hope you enjoy, xoxo your Local Blitzstone Dealer™

#Blitzstone #mcga #Morgan rambles #my ramblings #hearthstone #Blitzen #light of my life #make way for ducklings #ask

[dawnover-dusk]

Friends (Woozi)

genre: idol Woozi x lyricist reader, fluff, implied crushes

word count: 1,374

summary: “Why would I meet up with my friends? I want to hang out with you.” heavily taken from ailee x woozi’s phone call

series: 23 things a girlfriend wants to hear, based off of this

1. Shop (Jun) | 2. Pay (Wonwoo) | 3. Games (Mingyu) | 4. Friends (Woozi) | 5. Late (Jeonghan) | 6. Change (Seungkwan) | 7. Bare (Hoshi) | 8. Cold (DK) | 9. At Fault (Dino) | 10. Pretty (The8) | 11. Solace (Wonwoo) | 12. Insecure (S. Coups) | 13. Excessive (Joshua) | 14. Snap (Jeonghan) | 15. Protective (S. Coups) | 16. Movies (Vernon) | 17. Drive (Joshua) | 18. Ride (S. Coups) | 19. Blind (Hoshi) | 20. Special (Jun) | 21. Gift (Wonwoo) | 22. Holiday (Joshua) | 23. Love (All) CANCELED

so, i can’t imagine Woozi saying this irl ever so this happened

Jihoon was nervous. Today was the day where he had his first solo radio interview, and although he was plenty grateful for the opportunity to further promote Seventeen’s new album, he felt uncertain. He had to be about the most boring person in the industry! Why did Seokmin or Seungkwan just happen to have conflicting schedules? The other two had a natural affinity for diffusing silence or awkward situations.

Jihoon took a few deep breaths in the recording room, the provided headphones heavy around his neck. The radio host was a member of a male group which debuted a handful of years ago, and he smiled amusedly at the younger boy, who kept reading and re-reading the script provided.

After receiving the “on-air” cue and getting the standard greetings out of the way, each song on “Going Seventeen” was introduced, played, and discussed. Jihoon felt the anxiety melt away as he settled into his element. With a passion and fervor incongruent with his young age, he shared the stories and environments from which these songs were birthed, with emphasis on lyrical technicalities and composition elements.

When “I Don’t Know” finished playing, the radio host had a mischievous glint in his eye as he brought up an unfamiliar name in the writing credits – yours. Although Jihoon knew that this segment was coming (everything was scripted, after all), his heart still beat a little faster at the mention of your name, especially in such a public setting as an interview.

Jihoon didn’t even know what you looked like until he was a year into producing and writing his own songs. After expressing his interest to his entertainment company, Bumzu began training him on which software was used and various lyrical tones and styles. His company also put him in touch with a mysterious lyricist working remotely, and your relationship began over emails with periodically attached song demos.

You had walked into Jihoon’s studio, and formally, into Jihoon’s life, wearing an oversized sweater and holding a coffee holder with two iced Americanos. Jihoon had his headphones on and saw you enter from the corner of his vision, but he didn’t have the time or patience to pause his work flow. His debut date kept getting pushed back, and he wanted to prove that his group was ready – that he was ready – to share their music and choreographies with the world.

He had figured that you were an intern on a coffee run, and had gotten lost.

You knew he had saw you, and was a bit off-put by this small boy who you had supposedly been corresponding with for over a year.

Jihoon’s fingers stilled over the keyboard when you set one of the iced Americanos down onto his desk. He clicked to save his work and slid the headphones down around his neck, finally turning to face you.

You introduced yourself, and upon hearing your name, his eyes widened as he stumbled to stand, bowing deeply. You chuckled at his sudden change in demeanor and waved off the formalities. “It’s been a year already, right?” You asked. “Besides, I don’t think I’m that much older than you.” 

Jihoon smiled as he pulled up a chair for you to sit in. “Why couldn’t you come into the studio until now?” he asked bluntly, not one to beat around the bush.

“I’ve actually been abroad! But now, I’m here to help you guys debut.” 

Jihoon felt his heart swell with hope as he grabbed a spare pair of headphones and hooked it up to the second audio jack. As you put them on, he turned back to the large monitor in front of him and snapped his fingers.

“Well, let’s get to work,” he muttered, and clicked play.

“Ah, yes,” Jihoon murmured, recalling the many late nights spent and cheap takeout eaten with you and Bumzu over the course of Seventeen’s career. “She’s a very talented lyricist in my company, and originally from the U.S. I had the melody of ‘I Don’t Know’ down, but had a lot of trouble with the flow of the words. She helped me a lot with word choice while still keeping true to the emotions I wanted to portray. She also proofreads any English words we use in our songs, just in case it could be awkward.” 

“Well, speaking of this lyricist,” the radio host responded, “We have a special mission for you to complete! I’ll let you make the phone call, and you have to get her to say a certain phrase.” He held up a rolled piece of printer paper.

Jihoon licked his lips as he waited for his call to go through. He half-heartedly hoped that you wouldn’t answer, but after the many years spent working together, he knew that you would. After all, you fielded calls from him at 3 A.M., at times when he was too tired to even form coherent sentences.

“Hello? Jihoonie?” Your voice crackled over the speakerphone as a sudden timer effect was overlaid onto the radio audio. The radio host unfurled the piece of printer paper to reveal the phrase, black letters contrasted against white: “Stop being like this.” 

Jihoon could feel himself panicking slightly as he stuttered on the phone, filler words escaping his mouth. “Um…how do I do this? Uh—” 

“What’s up? I was actually working on editing that verse you sent me—”

This time, Jihoon cut you off, afraid that you would unwittingly spoil new songs to the public. The gears turned in his head as he defaulted to his serious, no fun, composer personality: “I’m sorry, that was trash. Don’t waste your time on it.”

On the other end of the line, your brow furrowed as you felt a weight drop on your chest. People say that late night conversations were where you bared your truest selves, and you and Jihoon were no exception. In between fitting words to melodies and brainstorming song ideas, Jihoon had let his insecurities slip. He would accidentally mention the stress of being “the producer” of the group, or how he felt responsible for the success or failure of twelve other people. You let his burden drive you to work harder, too, but you were afraid to mention how his worries reflected onto you. You didn’t want him to bottle it up. 

So as much as you wanted to give him a pep talk, you settled with, “But I worked on it for half an hour already! Too late, mister.”

You heard faint laughter in the background and you grew even more confused. Jihoon never really initiated conversation outside of work. Why was he doing so now?

“Are you with your friends right now? Do you want me to call you back later or something?”

Jihoon smacked his forehead with an open palm. Well, he thought, I guess it’s time to do the despicable—time to act cute. 

With as much enthusiasm and sweetness as he could muster, he said, “Why would I meet up with my friends? I want to hang out with you.”

The timer buzzed as the radio host howled in laughter, his hands making curled up fists in the air. Jihoon groaned as he also curled up into himself, unable to accept that he had just said that on air, and for nothing! A staff member from the radio station adjusted the microphone as the host caught his breath and greeted you, explaining what the mission was.

“Everyone, I’m sorry that this isn’t viewable radio, but Jihoon’s face is incredibly red right now.”

You apologized. “I’ll treat you to something nice, Jihoon. I want to hang out with you, too.” With a final laugh, you said your goodbyes and hung up. 

Both the radio host and Jihoon sat for a moment in stunned silence. The host quickly got back on track, joking, “Wow, I can see where all of Seventeen’s clever lyrics come from now! Let’s introduce the next song…”

Jihoon made a sound of agreement as he regained his composure, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. On the inside, though, he hoped that the booming in his chest would stay a secret, an unfortunate biological rhythm triggered by the thought of seeing you soon.

#seventeen scenarios #woozi scenarios #woozi #jihoon scenarios #seventeen #seventeen imagines #woozi imagines #jihoon imagines #jihoon #lee jihoon