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tangledinink · 1 year

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Chapter Eleven of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is here!!! The gang's got a new lead, and the first step is to re-group and re-plan... which is a little difficult given their current, uh, whole situation. But they'll be fine, probably! Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

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After drafting and deleting seven different texts to the quote-unquote "Mad Dogz" group chat that did not even come close to summarizing the conversation she just had, April finally gave up, instead just texting, "where is everyone???? emergency huddle asap"

Not more than fifteen seconds after she sent that off, her phone started buzzing with a call from Raph. Y’know, she wasn't sure what she had expected.

"Are you okay? What's goin' on?" Raph demanded the second she picked up the call, and she had to bite back a breathless, shaky little laugh. She knew it wasn't nice, and that he was just wound up and worried, but she was still just buzzing from the conversation she had just had with Sunita. It wasn't him, she was just-- overwhelmed. In a good way?

"I'm fine! I'm fine. It's-- it's a good emergency, I swear. Where are you?"

"I just ducked outta class. I'm on the third floor. Where we meetin'?"

"Okay. Uh. Head towards the south stairwell, and I'll figure out where the others are and we'll go from there."

"Raph's got it! See ya soon."

April ended the call, heading off in the direction of their agreed rendezvous point with hurried steps, struggling to find an appropriate pace. She fought the urge to sprint through the halls, knowing that this was just going to bring unwanted attention her way... but every bit of her body was absolutely alight with energy. The exhaustion from earlier had melted away. Her entire circulatory system had all been replaced with adrenaline, and she was just shining, all lit up in every sense.

Things were gonna be okay. Things were gonna be okay. Things were gonna be okay.

Raph beat her to the stairwell, and April was thrilled because there was no way she could stand to sit around and wait for anything right now. The second the door to the stairwell was closed behind her, and they were away from any prying eyes, her carefully measured steps turned into an ecstatic bounce-and-hop motion, closing the small gap between the two of them with an excited squeak as she threw her arms around her brother and squeezed him as tight as she possibly could.

"Whoa," Raph blinked in surprise, shifting slightly to correct his footing and prevent his older sister from straight-up tripping over him. "Did somethin' happen?"

"YES!" April exclaimed. "Yes, yes, yes! It's-- it's a really long story and I really really wanna tell you absolutely everything right now but it's gonna be so much easier to wait until we have everyone even though it is killing me but it's-- it's good! Raph, I think everything is gonna work out!!!"

Her cheeks ached from grinning.

"It's not simple or anything, but I just-- I really, really, really think things might actually end up being okay."

His expression wasn't quite readable to her-- it was somewhere between excited and confused and hesitant, with stress and exhaustion coloring it all, but it was still the best expression she had seen on him in over two weeks and it made all the hair on her body stand up with goosebumps and just.

God.

She wanted her dumb extended family back together and happy again so so so bad.

"Wha--?! April, you can't just say that and then not explain nothin'--!" Raph protested, and April shook out her hands, flicking her wrists back and forth as if to shake away the excess energy.

"I know! I know, I promise I'll explain everything! We just gotta get the rest of the guys first! It's really complicated... did anyone else text back yet?"

"Uhhh..." Raph fished his phone out of his pocket, and his eyes immediately bugged out of his head. Oooh, that can't be good. April leaned over to see.

[ Mikey: principals office :p i can prbly sneak out tho

Donnie: I'm currently occupying Supply Closet 33C, located on the left side of the second floor of the East Wing. It is labeled as such on the school's blueprints.

Leo: lmao wtf y'all

Leo: im on the roof tho ]

"WHAT THE--!?"

"Oh my god," April groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"IT'S ONLY BEEN ONE DAY!!!"

"It's-- it's fine! We can go get 'em, it'll be fine!"

"WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PLAN?! AND TEXTING IF ANYTHING HAPPENED?! HOW DID HE GET ON THE FREAKIN' ROOF!?--"

"RAPH!" April grabbed the other's shoulders, shaking him briefly. "Chill! It's fine. Okay? We'll kick their asses later. Let's just go collect them first and get out of here, okay? Way bigger fish to fry, remember?"

He groaned loudly, tilting his head back, biting his lip, all but sulking with his arms crossed over his chest. "... Fine."

Thank god. Raph may be a dumbass sometimes, but he was way more reasonable than he let on... usually. April sighed softly, offering a fist to bump.

"Come on. Team Big Sibling?"

"Yeah... okay. Team Big Sibling. Let's go bail those knuckleheads out."

---

Raph watched the cup fall, but he still jumped and winced at the sound of ceramic shattering on the ground.

“Oops,” Leo said. Suddenly he didn’t want to be standing on the counter quite so bad anymore, and quickly scuttled his way back down.

“Leo!” Raph huffed in annoyance, immediately on his feet. “I told you you were gonna knock somethin’ over!”

“Yeah, but I wanted to--”

“Raph doesn’t wanna hear it! Go get a broom or somethin’ so we can clean it up before Dad sees!” Raphael insisted, all but shooing his brother away. Leo groaned loudly, rolling his eyes and scowling, but obeyed regardless, running off to go and retrieve the requested tool. Raph huffed, moving to begin cleaning up the evidence of the crime… this was one of Dad’s favorite mugs. Hopefully, he didn’t hear the shattering glass from the back garden with Mikey. Mikey was pretty loud. With any luck, this secret would die with them.

“... How do you do that?” April questioned after a moment, tilting her head to the side, leaning over the side of the couch as she observed the exchange from the living room.

Raph paused slightly, his brows furrowing. “Do what?”

“Get ‘em to listen to you like that.”

“Oh,” Raph said. “Well, they don’t always listen to me.”

“Yeah, but they do when you really want ‘em to.”

Raph frowned a little, considering this for a moment before shrugging. “Because I’m the biggest, I guess.”

April laughed, “Like you’ll beat them up if they don’t do what you say?”

“No!” Raph protested. “... Well, I mean, yeah, kinda. But also ‘cause I’m the big brother! They have to.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause. Dad said I’m in charge when he’s not here. I’m responsible, and all that other junk,” he explained proudly.

“Well, like, yeah, but why? Why do you gotta be the responsible one just ‘cause you were born first?”

“Uh… I dunno. I guess just ‘cause they’re littler and they don’t know as much stuff yet,” he said.

“But Donnie is really smart. He knows lots of stuff.”

“Well…”

“He wins at the trivia games every single time we play. And Scrabble!”

Raph hesitated a bit, shrugging a little as he picked up pieces of ceramic off the floor. “I guess there’s stuff that they know that I don’t. But I still gotta take care of ‘em and protect them and stuff. It’s just what big brothers do. It’s our job.”

“You can’t have a job,” April said with a snort. “You’re eight.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” he said. “... I like taking care of ‘em and stuff. I dunno. Maybe you just do that when you’re born first. Automatically. Like, just ‘cause they’re littler. And so you wanna keep them safe and make sure no one hurts them and nothing bad happens or anything.”

April narrowed her eyes slightly behind her glasses, and Raph looked slightly to the side.

“And I kinda like getting to tell them what to do sometimes!”

April laughed, and this time Raph joined her. “Well, sometimes they deserve it!” He insisted, tossing the mug pieces in the trash, taking care to drop them in such a way that they would fall down to the bottom and not be visible from the top. As biggest brother, he knew by now how to destroy evidence. He flopped back over onto the couch with April once he was done, jostling her slightly, leaning into her on purpose as he did so. She squealed in response, pushing him back, and the two shoved and pushed in between giggles for a moment before they finally settled in a heap across the cushions, sort of splayed out across one another and staring up at the ceiling.

April breathed in deep before giving a very soft sigh.

“I wish I was a big sister.”

Raph glanced over at the other, hesitating a moment before he spoke up again.

“You kinda are, though.”

She paused, moving to meet his eyes with a look of surprise.

“You think so?”

“Well. Yeah! I mean. We hang out all the time,” Raph said, shrugging. “And you come to our house after school. And we go to your house on the weekends. And you eat dinner with us sometimes, and we do sleepovers, and we have all our birthdays together… And they listen to you, too, when you want ‘em too. And you know how to talk with Donnie, and you keep an eye on Mikey, and you laugh at Leo’s jokes--”

“I’m not being nice! I really do think they’re funny!”

“-- so I think that basically counts, probably.”

April wrinkled her nose up with thought.

“Does that mean you’re not the biggest brother?”

“Wait, what!?” Raph floundered for a moment, rolling back over onto his stomach so he could face April properly. “No! Raph’s the biggest brother!” He couldn’t not be the biggest brother! He had always been the biggest brother! It was his job to look after his little brothers, to always protect them and take care of them and make sure they were safe. That was what Raph did! And he was good at it!

“But you can’t be the biggest if I’m your sister!” April argued. “I’m seven months older than you are!”

“Yeah but-- but that’s different!”

“Why? You just said I’m a big sister.”

“Yeah, but, I meant, like… like to everyone else!”

“So I’m not your sister?”

“No! I mean-- you are-- but--” Raph screwed up his face. “I still wanna be the big brother, April! You can’t just un-biggest me!”

April frowned, looking the other up and down, considering for a moment, before she finally sighed.

“Okay, fine. I guess we can probably both be the big siblings together, then. Deal?”

Raph sighed in relief, flopping down on the couch again and extending his hand.

“Deal.”

---

After assuring their little brothers that they were on their way, Raph and April had started on the journey towards the Principal's office to retrieve the littlest Hamato, taking care to dodge any hall monitors, faculty, or staff, and intensely plotting their rescue mission as they went.

"Alright, and you're sure that you can do a believable impression of Hugh Jackman?"

"Yeah, of course I can!" Raph blustered. "I mean... how hard can it be? It'll be over the phone anyway. You know stuff always sounds weird over the phone."

"Raph, come on! If we can't get the secretary to go look at her car's check engine light, this plan is never gonna get Mikey out of there!"

"Raph can do it! I swear! And if this doesn't work, we still have the backup plan--"

"No, we don't, remember? I only brought the strawberry chapstick today, my peach-flavored one is at home--"

"What are you guys talking about?" Mikey interrupted, poking his head from around the corner. April and Raph both jumped.

"MIKEY!" Raph yelped, struggling to keep his voice level. "We-- you-- what are you doin' here?! I thought you were in the principal's office!"

"Well yeah, I was, but then I left to come meet you guys!"

"How'd you get out!?" April questioned, and Mikey shrugged.

"Oh, it's easy. You just have to cry hard enough that the receptionist offers to go get you some water, and then you walk out," Mikey explained. "That's what I always do."

"What you always do?!" Raph spluttered. "What do you mean what you always-- what the heck happened, anyway?! Why were you in there in the first place? Are you okay? Did you-- what happened to your hand?!"

Raph wasn't meaning to, uhhh, spiral like this exactly, but they were all valid questions, he was pretty sure! He grabbed his little brother's wrist to examine his knuckles, which were somewhat bloodied, scabbed, and swollen.

"I'm fine!" Mikey whined in protest, trying to wriggle his way out of his brother's grip. "It's not a big deal--"

"Did you get into a fight?!"

"Well--"

"Mikey!"

"Calling it a fight might be a little generous,” Mikey muttered, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, Raph, I'm fine! I can take care of myself!" He insisted, squirming away, darting behind April as if to shield himself. Raph was feeling that eye twitch coming back on. ‘Not a big deal!?’ What did he mean, ‘not a big deal!?’ They had talked about this before!!! What if he got hurt!? And this kind of thing went on his permanent record, you know, didn't he understand that they weren't little kids anymore!? He could get into real trouble--

"Can't we talk about this later?" Mikey insisted, holding his hands up to plead, batting his eyes. "Leo and Donnie are still waiting! Remember?"

"Okay, look," April interrupted. "Mikey has a point. Let's get Leo and Donnie first, and then you guys can do your whole... whatever this thing that you’re doing is. Okay?"

Raph groaned, grinding his teeth, scrubbing at his face with his hands. Right. He still had two other little brothers he had to round up... and one of them was on the roof. Aw, man. He swore he could feel himself going gray...

"Fine. But this conversation is not over," he hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where next?"

"Let's go grab Leo," April sighed. "Since he's probably freezing his butt off, and then we'll snag Donnie on our way back down and skip out of here. Sound good?"

"How did Leo get onto the roof?" Mikey questioned, already making his way towards the staircase, the other two following after.

"I. Don't. Know." Raph grit out as they made their way back into the stairwell, heading on up. He had never been up to the roof before-- could they even get up there? Surely they must be able to, given that Leo had gotten up there in the first place, right? He could only assume that the door had locked behind him. He wondered dimly how long he had been up there, wrinkling up his nose with worry. Leo got cold pretty easily... all of them did, actually, it ran in the family, and it wasn't exactly nice outside. Certainly not freezing or anything, but brisk. The last thing they needed was for him to get sick or something...

He picked up the pace, taking two steps at a time. Mikey kept up with ease, and April complained from behind them, lagging somewhat. Sorry, Apes! Little brother to rescue.

Like most buildings in NYC, their school was big and tall, so it was a little bit of a trek to get to the top of the staircase. Luckily, they had already started about halfway up, and, just as Raph had been hoping, the door did, in fact, open from the inside. Thank god. Raph made a mental note not to let that shut behind them and trap all of them up here.

"Leo!" He called, looking around frantically. He had to be up here, right? They only had one roof? He was almost certain-- wait, what if there was a second roof he didn't know about?! And they were on the wrong roof?!

"Hey, big brother." Leo's voice was a lazy drawl, and he peered from behind the door, where he had been posted up against the wall, just out of sight once the door had swung open. "Took you guys long enough."

Oh good. He was here. He was okay.

This was ideal because this way Raph could throttle him.

"Leo!" He exclaimed, turning to face him properly. "What are you doin' on the roof?! How long have you been up here!?"

"Uhhh..." Leo had the audacity to check his watch. "I dunno. Like. Four hours?"

"FOUR HOURS?! Leo, it's freezin' up here!"

"It's n-not that b-bad," Leo insisted, giving a wave. "It's, like... peaceful or whatever. I took a n-nap."

"You took a--?! How did you even get up here!? Why didn't you text somebody!?"

"Uhhh..." Leo pursed his lips, tilting his head back, staring up at the sky. He rolled his shoulders, humming softly, shuffling his feet a bit. "... I dunno!"

"You don't--? How can you not--?!"

Raph caught his tongue. He took a long, deep breath, and then sighed in an exhale. He shucked off his flannel so that he could wrap it around his younger brother instead, adding it over top of his hoodie and pulling him inside before he could protest-- dragging him into the building where it was safe and warm, closing the door firmly behind them.

Leo could act and put on airs all he wanted, but it was obvious just from looking at him that he was cold. Raphael wasn't that dumb. He didn't consider himself to be smart, exactly, but he wasn't dumb, either. 'Least not about this stuff.

“Raph, I’m fine, I don’t need--”

"Raph doesn’t wanna hear it. Keep the flannel on, you’re freezing. Come on. Let's go get Donnie."

---

Raph held the dustpan while Leo swept, repeatedly shifting his position to catch any remnants of broken ceramics that were left behind.

“Is that all of it?” Leo questioned, leaning over to see, and Raph gave an affirmative nod, getting to his feet and moving to dump the last of the evidence in the garbage can.

“Yep! All set!” Raph affirmed, giving his younger brother a thumbs up. “No one’ll suspect a thing!”

Leo didn’t look so sure. “Yeah, but won’t Dad notice that the mug is missing?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it!” Raph assured, slinging an arm around the other’s shoulder. “We’ll just come up with a cover story. Like. Uhhh. We’ll say someone broke in and stole it or something! Or… well. Raph’ll come up with a plan! Dad’ll never know,” he insisted. He’d have to work on that later. He really wasn’t very good at that kind of thing, and he had no idea what he’d say, but he’d figure it out. He always did! Leo laughed a little bit, wrinkling up his nose with amusement.

“Are you sure?”

“Course I’m sure!” Raph declared, puffing out his chest a bit. “Don’t worry. Raph has got your back. Even when you’re bein’ stupid.”

---

It wasn't that Casey didn't understand that the grand mission that her Clan had in the wings demanded sacrifice. She was well aware, and furthermore, perfectly willing to make those sacrifices. She had already made many over the course of her life, and she didn't regret a thing. Her former life, her education, former hobbies... none of that mattered even half as much as the path she was on now. She understood sacrifice. She was willing to sacrifice.

But dammit, did she always have to be on lookout duty!?

Casey grumbled softly to herself, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She could only sit in one position on this dumb rooftop for so long before her legs started to go to sleep. She had been tempted for over an hour now to take a quick lap around the block, but she didn't dare leave her post. She was tasked with watching the Hamato household-- so watch the Hamato household she would.

She had been doing this for days now, though it felt like longer, sharing shifts with other recruits of the Foot Clan. Though, of course, now that Jocelyn had been promoted to a full member of the Foot Clan, she would no longer be subject to such menial tasks. Cassandra had nearly broken a tooth this morning when she took over the other’s post-- the last one Jocelyn would ever have to endure-- biting out a strained congratulations to the other through a clenched jaw. Spoiled, stupid, undeserving, bratty little--

Casey was just on the brink of a total temper tantrum when she paused, a sudden realization smacking her in the face. Wait.

Where was the big red one?

She paused, glancing at her watch and back up at the apartment several times, straining to peer through the various windows. It was noon. Cassandra hadn't been doing this for that long, but when you sit and watch the same family for days and days on end, you pick up on their habits and routines pretty quickly. And every single day since she had started watching them, without fail, the biggest Hamato would emerge from his room, head to the kitchen, retrieve a protein shake from the fridge, and go up the stairs to the third floor. She couldn't see from the windows exactly where he was going, but it was like absolute clockwork. She suspected that he must have an alarm set with how consistent this was-- him fetching a drink and bringing it to, she could only assume, one of the other members of the household.

But it was twelve-oh-five. And there was no sign of him.

A sinking feeling thudded through her gut. Now that she was thinking about it, she hadn't seen any of them the entire watch. Not even once. The woman she had seen several times, working on her laptop in the living room and occasionally puttering around the apartment, but... No Hamatos.

None at all.

Spluttering a bit, Casey reeled, jumping up to her feet. They weren't here!? But she had watched the entire time! She hadn't taken her eyes off the building-- she had been so vigilant! Did they know the Foot was watching them!? Did they sneak out somehow--

She set her jaws, hackles rising as she reached yet another epiphany. A strangled shriek of frustration escaped her.

Jocelyn.

Oh, she knew she wasn't taking this lookout thing seriously! Casey had wasted the past three hours of her life watching a building that didn't even have the targets in it--!!! Swearing loudly, she wrestled her phone from her bag, nearly dropping it in her haste.

"Hello--? Sir Baron Draxum? This is the Hamato Lookout team reporting--"

---

Leo had asked Donnie what he was doing in a supply closet. Donnie had, in response, asked what Leo was doing on the roof, effectively eliminating any further questions, though April was certain that all three of her younger brothers would be answering to Raph later. But not right now. There were way bigger priorities right now. Luckily, the upside to attending an absolutely massive school in the middle of NYC was that there were a ton of kids, the building was huge, and it was actually quite easy to just walk off campus. Only three blocks away from their high school was a local skate park: a popular destination for the group, so much so that it sported multiple murals and tags from Mikey, and almost sure to be sparsely populated at this time of day. Meaning it was quiet enough for April to finally recount her recent conversation with Sunita, through excited, frenzied whispers, stumbling over her own words as she attempted to explain.

"So Sunita is a... slime monster?" Mikey questioned, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"Well-- kind of. She's a 'yokai,' I guess? But she has this magic thing called a Cloaking Brooch that lets her disguise herself as a human."

"Whoa!" Mikey gasped. "They have that?! So mystic people can just... look like humans?"

"Fascinating," Donnie remarked, tapping out a few notes on his phone. "Imagine how many citizens of New York could actually be yokai in disguise..."

"I wonder how many other kids at our school have secretly been, like, mystic creatures this whole time, and we don't even know it!" Mikey awed.

"Well, I guess cloaking-brooch-crystal-things are, like, really rare, or something? And, like, crazy valuable," April explained. "It's kind of hard to get a hold of them, Sunita said. I mean. She also said some yokai can just do it on their own without any crystal magic or whatever, but if you can't, then you need a crystal, and they're hard to get. Sunita said her’s is a family heirloom, but they've only got one, and she gets it right now so she can go to school."

"What, they don't have yokai schools in the Hidden City?" Raph questioned.

"Uh. Kinda," April said, leaning back against the skate ramp they were huddled behind. "I guess it's kind of... uh... a little chaotic over there. I mean. I dunno. I guess the police don't do a lot, and also the city is basically under the control of a super-powerful crime boss? And she basically runs everything. And also bloodsport is, like, super a thing that they just do, and that's fine, so like, there's not really a lot of 'law' or 'order' or whatever? So if you have a chance to send your kid to the surface instead, it's sorta a no-brainer."

"Okay, but, like, how is that that different from New York..."

"I'm serious, Leo!" April insisted. "And it's, like, super against the rules to tell anyone who's not in the know about the Hidden City or yokai or anything, so we can't tell anyone that Sunita told us or her whole family could be in danger! This is a take-it-to-your-grave kind of secret, okay!?"

"Okay, okay," Leo said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I get it. Seriously. No jokes or quips, even. It's a secret. We won't tell a soul, April. I promise."

April sighed in relief, tilting her head back slightly. She totally owed Sunita a pizza night or something after this...

"Okay... so… that's where Dad is? How do you know?"

April took a long, deep breath. "Okay, so, you know how I said that there's a super powerful crime boss? And that bloodsport is a thing?"

---

Weirdly enough, the cool concrete floor below him felt really good on his back right now. But maybe that was just because he was sore. Or because he was exhausted. Probably both. And though his previous stint in the Battle Nexus involved him flip-flopping back and forth between Luxury Boxes and cell blocks, Yoshi had a sneaking suspicion that it would be in his best interest to get used to his current dungeon-esque accommodations, at least for the foreseeable future. He doubted he would be being invited to any red-carpet events or dinner parties by his employer any time soon. He wasn't sure if he was upset about this or not. He didn't think he had the energy to socialize, let alone with Big Mama or any of her various acquaintances or cohorts.

But it was far too quiet down here, all by himself, with only the echoing rumbles and cries of the Battle Nexus in the distance for company. He relished what little time he had outside of the ring, certainly, but… Though his body was crying for it, he found it difficult to sleep. His mind was too often occupied, mostly with thoughts of his children. Wondering how they were doing. Wondering if they were still looking, or if the police had already closed the case and assumed him dead-- again.

How long had it been now? It was somewhat difficult to keep track of the exact passage of time down here, and he had to think on it for a moment before he came to the conclusion.

Eleven days, he believed it had been. Eleven days since he had last seen his children. He sighed softly through his nose, allowing his eyes to slide shut, to give himself a break from staring at the stone ceiling and take some time examining the backs of his eyelids instead.

This was the longest he had ever been away from them in all their lives.

"The next-door neighbor's daughter is very good friends with the boys, so you can call or text them if you have any questions and can't get in touch with me, but I will have my phone on me if anything happens..."

"Right--"

"Their child, April, comes over often, and they like to play in the basement with her. Just keep the door open so you can hear any screaming."

"Okay, got it--"

"And these are all the emergency numbers. This is their doctor, this is Donatello's counselor, this one is Mikey's… this is the school, this is the director's number, my agent, my lawyer, the hotel I will be staying at..."

"Right, I--"

"And this is their schedule. It is very important that you stick to it! Especially this week. Purple will get very upset if things change too much, so make sure they are able to get to all of their activities. Orange has ballet on Tuesdays and Thursdays and art classes on Mondays. He and the twins also have gymnastics on Fridays. They all do martial arts together during the weekends. Oh, and Red just started clarinet lessons, so make sure he is practicing!"

"Okay, I'll--"

"And do not let them convince you that they are allowed onto the roof! They are not! And do not let Donatello take the toaster into his room, under any circumstances! And--"

"Mr. Hamato!"

Yoshi paused in his long-winded explanation, blinking widely at the flustered-looking babysitter, whose face was pink.

"Sorry! Sorry, I don't mean to, uh, interrupt, but..." She offered him a somewhat nervous smile. "I promise I've reviewed all the paperwork you sent. I've got their schedules saved, all the numbers are already in my phone, and I reached out to Adam to introduce myself and coordinate everything for the week already," she assured, referring to the young man Yoshi had hired years ago to help taxi his children about the city and get them to all their various after-school activities. Yoshi swore, every other month, one of them would try something new on a whim (usually a sport of some kind,) only to discover yet another innate aptitude and then beg to start taking classes. Adam was something of a cross between a chauffeur and a babysitter, helping to cart kids to and from various lessons and clubs when Yoshi couldn't do it himself. Yoshi would have happily hired him to babysit for the coming week, but unfortunately his college classes kept him too busy for such a commitment. Likewise, he would have liked to leave them in the O'Neil's care, but with both parents working full-time, they had concluded that the Hamato childrens’ demanding schedule would leave them a bit out of their depth.

And so he had hired Emily.

It was not the first time he had hired Emily. Emily had babysat for him in the past whenever he needed someone to watch some or all of the boys. But never for more than a day. Never overnight. Certainly not for a full week.

"Right. Of course," Yoshi laughed nervously, pinching the bridge of his nose slightly. "My apologies. A week is just… a long time."

"I know. But we'll call every evening!"

"Yes, yes," he sighed a bit. "... Right. You are perfectly capable! I'm sure you will be fine!" He said, his voice a bit clipped. "And if you have any questions, you can call! I will have my cell phone on me!"

"Of course!" She assured with a gentle smile, beginning to gather up and organize all the various papers and forms Yoshi had provided her, making one last final review before he took his leave. Yoshi sighed deeply, glancing down at his watch. He could only afford to drag his feet for so much longer before he missed his flight. Emily politely kept herself busy and pretended not to notice him reorganizing his suitcase four different times before he finally zipped it up for good, leaving it by the front door.

"Boys!" He called. In a similar fashion to him pretending not to be stalling his inevitable exit, they pretended like they had not been hiding in just the next room, trying to eavesdrop on the two adults. They were all gathered up at his feet in a snap, with Mikey leading the charge and Donnie lagging behind, and Yoshi kneeled down to meet them.

"Alright, my sons. I will talk to you all on the phone later tonight. Be good for Emily while I am gone, understand? I have already told her she is allowed to sell you to the zoo if you are not good listeners, so best behavior!"

This got a giggle out of at least half of them, so he'd count that as a win. Mikey wrapped his arms around Yoshi's neck, tugging at him slightly and pulling himself up so he could climb on him, clinging to his neck. Yoshi thought to himself that he was starting to get too big to keep using him as a jungle gym, but… there was still time. He wasn’t too big yet. At least not today.

"Where are you going again, Daddy?"

"To California."

"How far away is that?"

"Hmmm," Yoshi pretended to think. "Well. It is farther than New Jersey. But it is closer than Japan."

"Do we get to watch your new movie when you get home?" Leo demanded, leaning on his father's knee. "I wanna show everyone at school! Justin didn't believe me when I said you were gonna go make a movie!"

"It will take a little longer than that, Blue," he laughed. "But we can all watch together when they are finished making it. In the meantime, make them watch The Rabbit Bodyguard. I was very cool in that one." This new job wasn't actually a very large role-- there was no way he could film in only a week otherwise-- but he felt no need to explain that to Leonardo, who was absolutely beaming, giving a nod of affirmation.

"Are you sure it's gonna be a whole week?" Raph fret, his mouth curved into a frown.

"Yes, Red, I am sure. But you boys will be so busy with Emily you will not even notice I'm gone!"

"Yeah we will," Raph muttered, crossing his arms.

"Oh, but you boys have so many activities!" He declared dramatically, before leaning into Raph, almost conspiring, to stage-whisper to him. "I did not want to say it in front of Emily, but I think she may need your help, Raphael. She is not used to how busy you boys all are. Or dealing with your little akuma-chan brothers! You may have to help make sure everything goes smoothly while I am gone."

"Hey!" Leo protested.

Raphael glanced over at Emily from across the living room, where she was still organizing papers in the kitchen, before turning back to Yoshi and giving a firm nod. Mission accepted. Phew. Yoshi knew he would be far less anxious over the coming week if he was instead focused on time management and keeping his brothers in line.

"Why can't we come with you?" Leo questioned, sulking slightly. "I wanna go to Hollywood!"

"Akuma-chan children are not allowed in the state of California. It is against federal law," he replied easily.

"That's not true!" Leo protested.

"It is. Only the best-behaved children are allowed to go to California. You have to submit an application. With referrals from teachers and babysitters saying you should get to go in," he explained confidently. "Perhaps if you boys are very good, then we can take a trip there someday..."

"And see Hollywood?"

"Yes, and see Hollywood."

"And sea lions?!" Mikey squealed.

"Yes, sea lions as well."

"Okay!" The two agreed, and Yoshi smiled a tiny bit to himself. They were getting older now, and he doubted that Leo actually believed the story he was weaving, though Mikey might. But Yoshi would be hard-pressed to find any joke, game, or bit that Leo wasn't willing to play along with.

He gave Raph a tight hug, assuring his oldest that he trusted him to keep an eye on the family in his absence, that Emily would take good care of them, and that he would be home soon. He scooped up Leo next, agreeing to all his demands for souvenirs, and promising that he would, in fact, call every day. He squeezed Mikey close, and confirmed that yes, Emily did know how to make all the foods they liked, and she would play with them and give hugs, and that Daddy would come back home as soon as he could, for sure, he promised.

Donatello was last, still lingering to the side even after his brothers had all turned their attention to Emily instead, staring down at his feet.

"Purple," Yoshi bade softly. Donnie grunted in response.

"I will be coming back home on the 11th. My flight is at 4:15 PM in California time. It's flight 983. And today's flight is 212. You and your brothers can track it on the computer if you want."

Donnie nodded a tiny bit, not yet looking up.

"I will call you all every night at bedtime. And you can always ask Emily to call me if you need me. Even if I don't pick up right away, I will call you back."

Donnie hummed quietly, shuffling his feet.

"And Emily is going to take very good care of you boys. You like Emily, don’t you? She has watched you before. And I know you like it when she performs the musical parts of movies with you. And she lets you ask her questions about her architecture degree. And she knows how to do you boys' hair better than I do," he smiled softly. "So you will even get to have special things this week."

Donnie wrinkled up his nose, swaying back and forth for a bit before he finally signed.

'Stay.'

Yoshi sighed.

"I can't stay, Donnie. I have to go to work. Just like April’s parents have to go to work. But I will come back. I promise. It will only be a week, and then I will be back, okay?" He hummed softly, leaning in close. "But I know you will be okay while I'm gone. You and your brothers are going to take care of each other. And April and her parents will help take care of you, too. You will still see her all this week and get to play with her. And you will still get to go to school, and to see Mossy, and to go to robotics club and gymnastics and all the other things you like. Even if I'm not here, you and your brothers will be okay. I am sure of it."

Donnie sniffled a bit, screwing up his face for a moment before he finally moved, all but bodily walking into his father, burying his face against his chest and curling up against him. Yoshi wrapped his arms around him tight, giving him a squeeze.

"Promise you'll come back?" He whispered.

"Of course I will," Yoshi whispered in reply. "I promise I will come back."

---

"I never get to use my algorithms..." Donnie sighed very softly, looking longingly at the spreadsheet on his phone as they trudged through the alleys of the city. And after Mikey had gotten all this data for him, too...

"Donnie. This is a good thing," Leo said, raising a brow and giving his brother a look. "Finding Dad was our goal, remember?"

"Yeah. I know," Donnie sighed, slumping a tiny bit. "But must science always be on the backburner?!"

"Aw, cheer up, Dee!" Mikey chirped, nudging his brother gently with an elbow as he trotted along. "I'm sure you can come up with some sort of mystic-scanning machine to put in your goggles or whatever after we get Dad back!"

"Yes, yes, I will add it to my itinerary," he sighed, rolling his shoulders slightly as they marched. "How much farther do we have to go to find this hidden doorway anyway, April? I thought you said it was close."

"Chill. We're almost there. Uh. I think," April said.

"You think?"

“Look, I've never located a secret mystic doorway before, okay?" She huffed, scowling at her younger brother. "Sunita’s directions were clear in theory, but in practice, it's a little more complicated! If you wanna take a turn leading, then be my guest...!"

"Don't worry! I'm sure we'll find it!" Mikey encouraged, bounding over to match April's pace and fall into stride next to her, a bright grin lighting up his face. He had practically been bouncing around like a kangaroo ever since they left the skatepark, overflowing with hopeful excitement. "There's no way anything can stop us now when we're this close to getting Pops back!"

"Right... and what's our plan again, when we do find this supposed secret doorway?" Donnie questioned, arching a brow.

"Ninja in, kick some yokai butt, rescue Dad, and ninja out," Leo supplied with a shrug. "Simple!"

"Exactly!" Raph agreed. "We know where Dad is-- so we go get him! He needs us! You guys just be careful and let Raph do all the smashing, and we'll be fine."

"Right..." Donnie mumbled, rolling his eyes a bit. Note to self: do not join any action squads with his brothers in the future. Risk of serious injury or untimely death: high. “In any case, we should still, at the very least, come up with some contingencies should we get separated or anything else go awry. We’re heading into unknown and supposedly magical territory, most likely populated with a bunch of yokai creatures, apparently half of which are criminals, so who knows what we may run into. So it may be wise to all be in agreement as to what we’re doing should anything happen--”

“That would be wise,” agreed a voice from behind the group-- far too deep and foreign to be any of his siblings. Donnie froze, a chill latching onto his spine, and he felt his family do the same before collectively turning to face the stranger.

“I knew you would have to come out of that apartment eventually,” the yokai observed, tilting their chin to look down at them through the glassy screen of their horned helmet-- eyes slitted, mouth fanged, their hair long and magenta, tall and familiar and terrifying. Donnie tensed.

“I’ve been hoping to get a chance to speak with you four.”

[ next ]

#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowau fic #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt human au #rottmnt au #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic #fanfic

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puckgoss · 29 days

Note

Okay great! Same anon from before. BTW, love your blog! The others seem to have a clear bias but I love how you keep it real over here. Super interesting as well! Now with the real deal...

CELEBS:

Justin Bieber is super nice, he seemed genuinely honored and happy to be there. Him and Mitch Marner are sooo cute, Justin was so supportive of him all the time and cheered backstage so much. He's also cool with Crosby apparently, saw them talking a lot. Met Hailey briefly and not surprised, just classic model behavior, glasses on inside, didn't say hi to anybody just a slight smile. It's fine I guess but compared to Justin who was a ray of sunshine seemed kinda odd. Michael Bublé did not 'accidentally' take a huge dose of weed, he was joking about how high he was and laughing about smoking more afterwards. Will Arnett is like a drunk uncle but not drunk. Both nice. Tate McCrae is soo sweet! I felt her because we were only like 5/6 women backstage and she was the only female captain, also with an ex who is an NHL player so already has that "puck bunny" reputation, so her being there was cool to see. Her BF was also backstage, but I don't think the players knew it was her BF haha, a colleague and I noticed at least 15 of the guys walking up to her and chatting it up. Ones I remember that looked flirty are Sway, the Hughes (they talked throughout the whole weekend and they're all around the same age so may have been friendly but you know how men are), Elias Lindholm, Elias Petterson, & Mat Barzal. She obviously talked to a lot of people but these I remember looking more like them trying to get somewhere with her. Her and her BF are so cute though! He was very touchy with her. Saw her talking to Boone Jenner for a while, but he seemed just friendly. He is also her ex's teammate so wonder what that's about.

PLAYERS:

Auston Matthews is actually really charismatic. At one point the whole dressing room went quiet and we heard him singing "Baby" by Justin Bieber. We all cracked up haha. The Hughes brothers had a fight the first day, don't really know about what but Jack walked in upset and Quinn wouldn't even look at him. Both with their frowning RBF. McDavid had the same attitude as Hailey Bieber LOL. He softened up a bit when talking to other players but otherwise he is super cold always. Pasta and Travis Konecny also seemed to lowkey hate each other. Colleague told me Travis doesn't like Pasta at all but can't 100% confirm that as I didn't hear it directly, just an interesting rivalry. The Canucks players were like a group of mean girls, they literally stuck together the entire weekend, even if they were drafted to separate teams. Vincent Trocheck flirted his ASS off with several women, myself included. Found out later he was married. Swayman is truly a nice person, I think he and Boone Jenner were the only ones who said hi to the whole crew and also goodbye. Also saw him and Georgiev have a bro-hug after they lost the game and he said something to him that made him really laugh, it was very cute. The Hughes also seem to not like Suzuki, avoided him all weekend. Cale Makar is like a doll haha he is so awkward all the time and everytime he speaks his face looks like he immediately regrets it.

That's all at the top of my head, but if there's anything else you want to know LMK!

ahaha ty ty! i def have my biases when it comes to teams but i try pretty hard to keep it neutral and not give my biases away 😭 as for players i don't have any faves or rly think any are angels so i have no preconceptions there

omg there is so much to unpack here idek where to begin

justin bieber - he did seem so happy to be there the whole time lol he loves hockey and the leafs i think that was all 100% genuine! so sweet

hailey bieber - sounds abt right lol

michael bublé - lmaooooo tell me ur from vancouver without telling me ur from vancouver.... iconic he was so funny that whole weekend

tate mcrae - ya i forget her bf's name but i was aware he was there n they do seem v cute together! love all the wifed up guys chatting her up ahaha except barzy n petey they get a pass. another anon on here was telling me all the CBJ guys & wags liked tate a lot so doesn't surprise me that boone & her were friendly

hughes brothers - jack n quinn having a fight is soooo funny omfg i can't. also being bitchy towards suzuki like 😭 funny bc they're so tight w cole caufield (esp jack) n suzuki n cole are teammates and besties

mcdavid - you comparing mcdavid to hailey bieber is fucking sending me dsiofjdskghdfjklgh he is so awkward...

TK - TK having beef w pasta is soooo funny

canucks - canucks players "like a group of mean girls" i'm dying omfg 💀 lindholm was drafted to a separate team ya but he was only traded to the canucks like a few days before that so that was the first time they were really meeting him

trocheck - flirting his ass off with multiple women dsfknadslfkjgfng his kids were literally on the ice watching the skills comp w him that's soooo bad

swayman & jenner - being sweethearts aw that is nice to hear

cale makar - "like a doll" "awkward all the time" "every time he speaks his face looks like he immediately regrets it" perfect no notes!!!

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sil-te-plait-tue-moi · 2 years

Text

Wedding-seasonal depression.

Quick summary: What if Pierce actually did get married to Wu Mei way back when in the second season? You and Jeff are both struggling to come to terms with the fact that this is Pierce’s eighth time getting married, while you’re both still sad and single and alone. You decide to take your frustrations out on each other.

Word count: 7.8K

Warnings: SMUT (you have been warned, this is essentially porn with a lil’ plot), but it's not like super kinky; lots of swearing; first time writing second-person, so buckle up, I guess; kind of angsty (??); many suppressed feels.

A/N: Hey, guys, what’s up 😃🌈🦶! Uhhhh, I know this fic is a little random, but I’ve literally had this story in my drafts for six months. Since then, I have finished the entire Community show and have brought you this gem of a smut fic for Jeff Winger (particularly Jeff Winger with a fuckin’ beard 😩😩😩 he’s such an asshole). Please excuse my horrible attempts at dirty talk. Also, this is the first fic I’ve written in second person, soooooo I’m sorry if it’s, like, bad. Okay, enjoy!! :)))

***

You know, the wedding is perfectly nice. You have nothing against weddings. Apart from the strangely sexist ceremonies (as Britta will agree), the giving away of the daughter to her new owner kind of thing, the virginal unveiling thing, they’re perfectly fine. There’s free alcohol, free food, dancing, friends – sounds pretty nice at first, doesn’t it? Yeah, you’d think that, wouldn’t you? Except, now, the only kind of enjoyment you can feel is the pleasure of yet another scotch burning its way down your throat. You’ve had three, now, and it’s only a matter of time before they start to kick in. And you don’t come to weddings just to get drunk, okay? Your friend is getting married today, and no matter how blatantly racist and sexist and homophobic he is on a daily basis, you want to support his happiness (Annie forced you to come).

The fact that it’s Pierce getting married (again) hasn’t really hit you yet. Pierce. Pierce who talks about women like they’re objects, who treats them like they have a fucking expiry date, who has had his shot at marriage several times before, is now at the altar again, having another wedding while some of you are left to wallow in your own self-pity and loneliness until the night’s end.

You ask the bartender for another scotch.

You swivel in your stool to survey the venue – tables are dotted all throughout the hotel’s expansive ballroom, swathed with elegant white tablecloths, with elaborate centrepieces of white lilies and tulips and curling ferns to adorn. The ceiling reaches up, up, up, and intricate moulding compliments and fills its area, leading to the elevated centre where a glimmering, twisting chandelier dangles, its large gems scattering rainbow light here and there around the room. It’s pretty – the bride knew what she was doing. Pierce had refused to get involved in any of the wedding preparation because, and you quote, “it’s a woman’s job”. When you asked him what a man’s job was, he had looked at you condescendingly, as if it were as plain as day, and said, “To attend the bachelor party, of course.” You didn’t blink or breathe for a whole ten, fifteen seconds, you believe – you thought he was joking at first. But you shouldn’t’ve underestimated Pierce and his miraculous ability to infuriate you. Lord knows why anyone would want to marry him.

Your table – the study group’s table – is right in the corner of the room. The location is a little questionable (you’re all pretty sure the bride detests you for being more important than she is to Pierce, and you don’t blame her at all—but, you know, she could’ve sat you a little closer to the snack bar is all you’re saying), and it’s not close to the altar, it’s not close to the buffet, or the bar, or the toilets, or the band. But, of course, the group has found its own way to keep everyone entertained. Abed and Troy have napkin hats placed on their heads, acting out some movie scene, you’re sure, and Britta’s well on her way to becoming black-out drunk by the time the vows start, and Shirley’s trying to figure out the recipe of the cheesecake Annie ordered, reaching over the table for another forkful and another and another, face scrunched up in deathly concentration as she tries to identify the ingredients by taste. Poor Annie, you think to yourself, but you’re smiling.

Your eyes immediately start searching for Jeff. It’s an unconscious thing that you do every time you enter a room. You just want to make sure he hasn’t done anything stupid yet. And if you know anything at all about him, he’s going to be glowering the whole night away, rolling around in his bitterness, torn between his jealousy that Pierce gets to be married (again) and between his fiery disdain of weddings. He’s just a little bit too much like you – that’s how you can foresee his scowl when he approaches the bar, how you just know his hands will be shoved childishly in his pockets, and that he’ll roll his eyes when some bridesmaid will stop him and ask how he knows the groom. It happens just like clockwork. Jeff thinks he’s some wildcard, but, in reality, he’s so predictable.

“I’m actually the head of what used to be his favourite escort business. He was one of my best customers, but, uh—” he hisses cynically, “—you can’t win ‘em all, can you?”

You smile. He’s predictable until he opens his mouth.

The bridesmaid looks absolutely horrified. She leaves promptly with wide eyes and an open mouth, trying to stifle a laugh for the sake of her friendship with the bride.

A self-satisfied look overcomes Jeff’s face – he’s probably laughing internally at one of his own jokes again – and then his attention shifts up over to you, and his gleaming eyes grace themselves upon yours. He’s such an ass.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” you snort, turning back to the bar and digging your nail back into this narrow groove in its mahogany surface – maybe, if you’re patient enough, you’’ll soon be able to carve your initials into it forever. Jeff steps up onto the platform that perimeters the bar, sighing from deep within his chest as he slumps himself forward in the viridian, velvet-cushioned stool beside you. “You could have at least pretended to be nice for a few seconds.” While your manner is joking, there’s an underlying seriousness to your words. He needs to stop introducing himself as a prick to everyone – it’s off-putting.

But he just grins over at you – it’s hard not to smile back. “That was me being nice, I’ll have you know,” he says meaningfully, “and it just kills me—” he slaps a hand right across his heart, “—to know you don’t think I’m genuine.”

“She looked abhorred, Jeff. Abhorred.”

He scoffs violently. “Don’t say she looked abhorred, okay? She did not look abhorred.” Then, a pause. Then, “What does ‘abhorred’ mean?”

Oh, Jeff. You’d think that, what with his lawyer days (or rather, his days faking a law degree), he’d have a better vocabulary than he actually does. You’re pretty sure he looks up fancy words in his free time, just to impress people, most of which he doesn’t even know. You can just picture it: Him, sitting in the armchair of his ridiculously clean apartment, a dictionary in his lap, a thesaurus to the side, trying to comprehend what “sporadically” means so that he can use it in class the day after. You haven’t proven this theory yet, and Jeff always avoids the question, but you’re 100% convinced that this act is entirely true.

“It means horrified, Jeff,” you deadpan. You watch him make a mental note to use that in conversation later.

He hums lowly, and you let out a long sigh. Wordlessly, the both of you turn your heads to look back at your table. There are a few, special moments in life where someone will resonate so much with another’s feelings that they feel as if the two of them have become melded together. The borders of their mind will collapse, and that shared emotion will just mingle between the two of them like a strange, little ghost. It’s like that now, with you. It’s a melancholy type of feeling. You both can’t quite place the sadness, even as you’re looking on at the happy study group, and you can say that, with confidence, Jeff feels lonely. Just like you. You can feel the ache in his heart.

But, as quick as the intimacy came, it disappears again. Jeff swallows hard and frowns down at the counter, clearing his throat before commenting drily, “So, this sucks, huh? The wedding and everything.”

You nod.

“I just don’t get why Pierce is the one who gets to get married. Like, why not one of us or something? It’s just kind of unfair.” And then he stops abruptly, inhaling sharply like he’s just broken some kind of code. You nudge him and ask if he’s alright, to which he responds with, “You’re not gonna tell any of the others about this, are you? I don’t want Pierce finding out and having one of his little tantrums again.”

“He wouldn’t throw a tantrum,” you smile, completely missing the trust he’s putting in you right now. “If anything, he’d gloat about how you, the Jeff Winger, are jealous of him.”

He scoffs exaggeratedly. “I am not jealous of Pierce.” Jeff doesn’t admit to being jealous of anyone, but it’s always obvious when he is – his sarcasm will somehow double, his face will squint up into a semi-permanent, sour expression, and his voice will up an octave or two if he’s feeling extra shitty. It’s always funny to see him try to keep it together. That man’s got an ego like no other. Under his breath, he finishes, “No more jealous than you are.”

Damn.

Truth is, even though you’re fucking bitter as can be about Pierce getting married, you know that you have no actual desire to ever enter matrimony. It’s not a Britta “fuck marriage as a whole” type of thing; it’s a “wow, someone is achieving something, and you are achieving nothing” kind of situation. What can you say?—it’s your toxic trait. Anyone “beating” you at anything is enough to discourage you from that sector as a whole. If you’re not naturally gifted, what’s the point? Not to say that Pierce is gifted at relationships. No, he’s just rich. It takes everything in you not to strangle him whenever he opens his goddamn mouth. But you just suck at navigating true, meaningful romantic connections with people, and having to watch Pierce enjoy a pretty party and tick off that milestone (again) is just a kick straight to the fucking vagina.

But you’re not going to say all that to Jeff Winger of all people. So, you suck it up, deepen your scowl, and say, “Ah, yes, ever since I was a foetus, my one goal in life has been to wed a person half my age so that they can drain me of my non-existent fortune and give me pity sex for the rest of my shrivelled-up, little life.”

“Can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or not, ‘cause that actually has been my goal since I was a foetus,” Jeff whips back, and you snort. His grin widens.

Stupid Jeff Winger and his stupid Jeff-Winger smile. You hate it when he does that with his fuckin’ face. It’s infuriating. He’s infuriating. You always feel it tugging at your stomach adamantly whenever you’re in his proximity and he does that, and it’s unsettling. Could be annoyance, could be something else. You’re not ready to explore that.

“Anyway, you wanna go find a back room and fuck?”

The words are so swift and casual that you have to take a moment to realise that that is not something normal people say when attending their friend’s wedding and having a conversation at the bar with their completely platonic other friend who has never before made any hints towards attraction.

You turn and blink hard at Jeff, your lungs buffering in your chest.

“What?” you stress to him.

He darts his eyes away from the great hall and shuffles them back to you like he has all the time in the world, like he hasn’t just said what he just said. He raises his eyebrows innocently and politely continues, “Oh, sorry, I just thought that was where this conversation was going.”

The commotion of the party, to your surprise, carries on as usual.

Your wrists are numb with shock, and they’re sparking with what you think might actually be excitement. Did Jeff really just say those words out loud? Are you angry about it? You can’t fucking tell.

Instead of addressing the problem, you swallow thickly, hoping he won’t notice, and ask through an incredulous scoff, “Is this how you get people to have sex with you?” Would you be mad about that? About the fact that he’s just asked, essentially, to sleep with you, right to your face, right in public, at Pierce’s wedding, where there are people that you know and that can see you clearly from where they’re sitting? God, do you look as thrown-off as you feel right now? You would hope to die before looking thrown-off in front of Jeff Winger. The very Jeff Winger that’s finishing your drink off for you and watching you amusedly from over the rim of the glass, smiling his fucking smile to himself as he watches you glitch and hesitate like a browser with too many tabs open.

“Don’t say the s-word,” he hisses patronisingly, narrowing his gaze, leaning closer to you, glancing warily around the room. “There are children.”

“You just said fuck.”

“Yes. Yes, I did. And also, would you like to?”

He’s analysing your expression with fond eyes, you see from your peripheral vision, setting your glass back on the counter gently as he waits, all patient, for your answer, for your reaction. This is probably the most patient he’s ever been in his life. It’s certainly the most patient you’ve ever seen him, and you’ve seen him through a lot.

You tell him (a little breathlessly), “You’re fuckin’ crazy.”

He lowers his voice. “Did I read the situation wrong?”

There’s a silence that’s far too long to be salvageable. Then, a flustered, “No.”

Jeff raises his eyebrows, like he’s impressed with himself, and he looks smugly up at the ceiling. Damn him, you think to yourself. And, sweet Jesus, he has pretty nice hands. You also think to yourself that he has—he has pretty nice hands. Nice hands fixing the cuffs of his shirt and jacket. Nice hands scratching at that awful thing he calls a beard. Nice hands shoved in his pockets all nice-like. Nice hands that you’re sure can do a lot of—nice—things. Jeff clears his throat, and your attention snaps back to where it belongs.

“So,” he drawls. “Back room?”

And just like that, his pick-up somehow works for you. Somehow, you end up stumbling into the janitor’s closest, and you’re shushing each other and telling each other to be quiet as he helps you on top of the wobbly desk. It’s clumsy and fast and you’re both more than a little drunk. “Ow!” he exclaims when you accidentally elbow him in the ribs. Maybe it’s that you’re both just extremely lonely at this wedding – you’ve both kind of realised that you may just have to spend forever alone, that Pierce has a better chance of getting married than you do, that happiness might not be for you after all. And that’s always a nice thing to hear. You just want solace, and both of you are fighting for that by getting it on in a barely sanitary janitor’s room. Think of it—as a favour for a friend. Yeah. You think, with Jeff, the Jeff who blunders over a bucket when he tries to kiss you, it’s just pheromones and genetics doing their thing. Skin-deep. That’s your excuse as you grab him by the tie and press your lips to his as he positions his arms either side of you to keep himself from falling. “Your hair smells kinda nice,” he tells you before he helps zip down your dress, and you slide down your underwear.

He goes down on you first, after you both mock each other about who you bet is gonna finish first. “Oh, I’ve spoken with Britta about you,” you’d said lowly, smiling, and his eyes filled with sweet, sweet defeat. “Yeah, she told me everything—One-Minute Wonder.”

And this had gotten little, insecure Jeff all riled up. “Alright,” he huffed, voice scraping against his throat like he hadn’t had anything to drink for a week. “Alright, we’ll see who cums first, then, huh, doll?” And instead giving you one of those classic Winger smiles, he whispered a request for permission to use his mouth on you. You didn’t even have a response to that. He kneeled down in front of you, hands eagerly spread on your thighs, and his breathing was slightly uneven as he awaited your answer. It made you feel some type of way. You gave a quick nod and shuffled forward to meet his hot mouth. When his tongue delved deep inside your cunt, all coherent thoughts went straight out the door, and now you’re weeping into the back of your hand and clenching down your teeth down on your fingers, trying your best not to cry out.

Now, there are a few things you do to try and stop yourself from finishing immediately: you try clenching your legs together, but this only makes Jeff moan right into your pussy, and that doesn’t do you any good at all; you pull lightly at his hair and scratch at his back and his neck and his arms, holding on for dear life, but he only grows more enthusiastic; and you try insulting him under your breath (“twat”, “asshole”), but he just chuckles into you, and you have to bite down on your knuckles all over again, wrestling with that increasingly violent fluttering feeling in your legs.

Near the end of it, you just give up that bet with Jeff; you’ll cum, you’ll finish first, you’ll lose the bet, and you’ll do whatever you can to get to it. You grind shyly, and then shamelessly, against Jeff’s face, finding a delicious friction with his beard, a lovely contrast to the soft, velvet slickness of his tongue – that is, until he uses his hands to press your hips firmly back down onto the table, rendering you powerless to his actions.

You’re just about to finish when he pulls away. You think it’s a mistake at first, trying to lower him back down onto you with your hand cradling his head, but then you catch sight of a shit-eating grin wanting to take over his face, and you whine out, “Jesus Christ, Jeff, don’t be mean!”

“C’mon, honey, I thought the point of the bet was to not cum. You don’t wanna lose, do you?” His chin is still slick with you and he’s talking to you like you’re not hot and flustered and half-naked for him in a fucking supply room, on the brink of an orgasm, legs shaking like there’s no tomorrow. What a fucking prick, you think to yourself. You’re still gonna fuck him, of course, but he’s still a prick to you, and nothing will ever change that. “What? Can’t talk anymore?”

“I’m about this close—” you narrow my index finger and thumb down to a microscopic space between, “—to leaving you alone in here with blue balls, Winger. You hear me?”

He stands up and massages your legs gently, almost tenderly, and makes you forget, just for a second, that you’re probably another one of his escapades, another one-night stand, just another girl for him to forget in the morning. “Aw, just look at you,” Jeff taunts, twisting his face up in mock-sympathy as you scramble to regain control. “You’re cute when you’re angry, you know that?” His nose brushes up against yours. He comes in real close and whispers against the shell of your ear, “You know, I think you just might get us caught, sweets. I think you’re gonna be crying out my name by the time we’re done, and all those wedding guests are gonna be shocked at the dirty things I’ve done to you and you’ve done to me. You think you’re gonna be able to walk right when they ask us to come out this room? Or do you think everyone’s gonna know how hard I fucked you in here, how I fucked you senseless, how I fucked you so good that you can barely sit down without thinkin’ ‘bout how my cock felt up inside of you?” Your clit throbs painfully. How can it not? You try to snake your own hand between your legs, but Jeff softly moves it away and kisses your shoulder. “Hmm? So, which is it?”

“I think I want you inside of me,” you say breathlessly, needily. Yes, you knew that Jeff likes to sleep around a lot, you knew that he was experienced, you knew that he knows how to get someone hot—but you didn’t really prepare for this. How many other girls has he had in the janitor’s room? How many other girls has he had at a wedding?

“I think I want to play with you for a little while longer,” he replies huskily, and you very nearly finish right on the table. You take his hand and guide it between your glistening thighs, taking him through the way you like to be touched, and he soon takes control, finding out what makes you squirm and what makes you bite into his shoulder and scratch at his back. Jeff has always been a person who loves knowing that he’s good at something, that he’s in charge, that he’s in control – it’s not hard to figure out he loves praise. So, when you tell him, “You’re doing so well,” and he kisses you roughly, hand in your hair, and pinches your clit, you take satisfaction again in his predictability. You yelp right into his mouth, brimming with smugness. Then, he dips a finger into your cunt, and maybe the attitude is punched out of you, but you lose a little respect for yourself with how eagerly you sigh out. After a while, he asks if he can add another, and you agree, grinding against the heel of his palm.

What you’re really scared of is that he won’t let you cum again, that he’s into edging, and that you’re going to be denied the sweet release you’ve been craving for what seems like years, now. “Let me cum, please,” you say, kissing his neck. “I’ll go down on you later, but just please don’t edge me again.” Ew. You hate how desperate you sound. You’re usually a little more dignified than this. Jeff’s there, quick-witted and sharp-tongued as always, and you’re sitting here, tongue-tied and helpless. This is sort of the most bottom you’ve ever been, give or take. With sex with other people, there was a mutual bond rather than a power dynamic, but, here, there’s a very clear distinction. It makes you a little uncomfortable. You’d feel, oh, so much better if it were you saying all those dirty things to Jeff, making him sweat with his cock on your tongue, being the one he asks for permission to cum. But you’re saving that fantasy for another time – you don’t have the willpower to do anything like that today, not when Jeff wants to be in charge right now.

And maybe it’s your imagination, but he grows just that little bit harder at the desperation in your voice. Maybe he should let you cum, since you asked so nicely. “You don’t have to go down on me,” he says, even though he’d definitely love to see your pretty, little mouth wrapped around his cock. Instead, he reaches down and starts to kiss and lick and suck and bite at your breasts, making sure to linger at the swell of them – he has an odd thing for that area between your side and your breast, that little swell, you both learn, and he strokes that area tenderly with one hand as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

When you finish around his fingers, he licks them clean and wipes the rest on the little square handkerchief in his pocket. He’s going to save that for later, he decides. Say he gets hard at night thinking about you and needs the smell of you to get off—or maybe he’ll just tease you at the post-vows dinner and make eye contact when he presses the damp fabric against his nose, just to see you clench your thighs together. Who knows? You, on the other hand, are only just realising that he’s still fully clothed. You are as naked as the day you were born, and he’s still prim and smart and handsome in that navy-blue suit and tie.

Pulling him closer to you by his belt, you fumble with the buckle as you tell him, “I’ll go down on you.” You just want a grasp of control after him having seen you so bare, so vulnerable. You don’t know if you’ll be able to face him after this if you just don’t get his dick in your mouth right now – it’s a strange logic, yes, but there’s no stopping you.

Jeff watches you passively as you frantically undo his belt, somewhat enjoying seeing you so flustered and out of control. It doesn’t only feed into his desire and lust, but it also adds to that weird, warm feeling in his gut, one that he hasn’t really experienced before. He can’t quite figure out what it is – heartburn, maybe; indigestion? – but he’s not stupid, and he’s a little suspicious, so before his tipsy subconscious can come to that terrifying conclusion, he tells you, “Can you spread your legs for me?” At your surprise, he adds, “Please?” Just to be nice.

“So fucking demanding, aren’t you?” you huff, but you do as you’re told, gut wriggling with apprehension.

He kisses you nice and slow, storing this memory in his mind carefully for later, trying to be the most genuine he can because, at the end of the day, you’re his friend, his good friend, and he would never do anything to harm or lose you. If he’s going to fuck you, he’s going to do it nicely, the way you’d fuck a friend (I don’t know). You remove his jacket as he loosens his tie, and he unbuttons his shirt as you tug down his trousers and his underwear. He rifles through his wallet for a condom, and you make fun of him for carrying a condom in his wallet (“You’re such a skeez, Jeff.”; “Hey, you’re fucking this skeez!”).

You both have a brief moment, a brief pause, of should-they-shouldn’t-they – after all, you’re going to have to see each other practically every day after this, at school, at the study group, at lunch, at hangouts. But then, you tell him, “Well, get on with it, then,” and he e-e-eases into you, taking his goddamn sweet time with it, letting you grasp at his arms and his back and his waist and his neck and hair and face and chest. He loves how handsy you are. You try not to be so vocal – you don’t want his ego growing any bigger than it currently is – but your touchiness always gives you away. And it makes him feel special as well – you’re not the most affectionate person usually, and you rarely give out hugs and touches and pats like some of the other members of the study group, so the fact that you’re touching him so much and so freely makes him feel blessed.

When he thrusts up into you, you bite into his shoulder again, and he nearly loses it. There’s a sinful, explicit, wet noise that’s made when he moves in and out of you, and it’s almost enough to make him cum on the spot. He’s suppressing his moans, now, trying to do well for you, trying to be good, be strong, be satisfying enough for you.

“Good girl,” he chokes out when you whine high in your throat for him – he says it more to himself than to you, feeling the need to give praise after receiving it, wanting to make you feel as good as he is (say what you will about Jeff, but he’s respectful when he wants to be). But little does he know that you love being called that. Some weird insecurity issue is probably to blame, but you whimper for him and clench around his length, making his hips stutter and his pace falter. He decides to play around a bit, just to see how far he can push you while you’re sedated like this – usually, you’d be up to speed, quick and sharp-tongued and tough and sickly sweet, but, now, he has you a mess in his hands. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he chuckles darkly. “You’re such a good girl for me. Such a good—” he thrusts harder, “—little—” harder, “—girl.”

All you can do is gasp and try to take it well. You can barely form words – it’s like you’re drunk. Well, you are drunk. Of course, you know you’ll have a hard time getting rid of this picture – this picture of him panting and sweating, of his mischievously glinting eyes, of his large hands digging right into your hips and thighs and waist – and you’re probably going to get yourself hot later just thinking about it. You blame him. You blame him for all of it. He’ll probably forget about it in a heartbeat, you think to yourself. He’s Jeff Winger, after all – ladies’ man, professional man-whore, completely indifferent to everything all of the time. You try to plan ahead, try to plan for later when you’re sad and alone and hating your body and hating your life choices, but then Jeff moans breathily into your ear, and you’re right back in the moment. You curl your legs tightly around his waist, letting your head fall back as he takes further control.

“You know, I think this is the first time you haven’t had some comeback ready to go, isn’t it, hon?” he says, then softly biting your earlobe. You can only choke out a moan. “Thank you for that addition.”

You groan and roll your eyes. “I fuckin’ hate you,” you say in a feeble attempt to put up your guard again.

“No, you’re just fucking me, actually.”

You sob dryly into his shoulder, and Jeff starts to encourage you a little, probably the kindest he’s ever been during sex: “Come on, darlin’, why don’t you cum for me? You’re doing so well, you know that?” And that just sets you over the edge. You finish, body quivering, exhausted, and slump right forward onto Jeff’s chest. He somehow manages to hold on – he’s not done yet, and he’s going to want to drag this out for as long as he can, that much he knows. He plants his hands on the table, either side of you, and rests his head forwards on your shoulder, panting.

“Nice one, Jeff,” you say to him awkwardly. What does one say to the friend they’ve just fucked? There’s no right thing, of course, but you know straight away that that was definitely a wrong thing.

But he laughs. “We just fucked the shit out of each other, and that’s what you’ve got to say to me?”

“Well, what am I supposed to say?”

“I dunno,” he tells you, and he genuinely doesn’t.

You stay like that for a while, him laying light kisses on your shoulder and neck, you running your hand gently through his hair, both confused as to what to do now. That is, until you point out, “You’re still hard, huh?” You can feel him throbbing painfully inside of you. This must be torture for him – you’ve finished twice, now, and him none.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I was gonna wait for a better time, but.”

“I don’t think there is a better time in this situation.”

Jeff swallows thickly, throat suddenly dry as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. His dick twitches inside you when you grin up at him, and you pretend not to notice (but, oh, you’ll definitely remember it the next time you smile at him). He’s quite nervous, and he can’t pinpoint why. His brain’s just still a little too fuzzy to really process any coherent thoughts, even despite that sobering experience just then, but, again, he isn’t stupid – he knows what that knotted feeling in his chest probably is – so, before he has the chance to figure out what he already knows, he asks you, “Can you turn around? Bet you feel real good when I have you bent over this desk.”

“What a charmer,” you mumble under your breath. You know that’s about as sweet as he gets. You’re about to turn around for him when he surprises you:

“Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He strokes your arms nicely. “We can go back to the party if that’s what you’d prefer, have a few more drinks, make fun of Pierce a little. Or we could try something you decide on. Got a favourite position? I’m sure we could make do with the space we have in here – maybe move a few buckets and boxes around, and we’re good. What do you like?”

Your mind goes completely blank, except for one very clear thought: “You’re what I like.” Not out loud, of course. You’d probably do anything he wanted right about now. You half-expect him to pull a 180 and say something snarky or sarcastic, but he doesn’t. He just kisses your cheek sweetly and waits for your answer. What do you like? You don’t even know anymore, and yet you’re getting wetter than ever before. Your breath is picking up, now. “You know,” you mumble, trying to contain your nerves, “the usual: a little light asphyxiation, a bit of hair pulling. I dunno. What else is there? I guess overstimulation can be nice sometimes. And, you know, I liked it—” a blush starts to form on your cheeks, “—I liked it when you...”

“Liked it when I what?”

“You know,” you huff frustratedly. “Said all those nice things to me.”

Jeff raises his eyebrows. “Praise?” Internally, he smiles to himself – he likes that he shares that in common with you. “Don’t worry, I like it, too.”

“Nice to know.” You maintain a neutral expression, but your clit is fucking beating right now, and your cunt is dripping wet. Your efforts not to clench around Jeff are herculean.

“Well, how do you want it?” he asks you brazenly, the usual Winger way. Okay, now, you squeeze tight around him, and Jeff presses his hands around your thighs in response—but, outwardly, the two of you are perfectly normal about this. “I can dial it back a little if you wanna take charge.” His eyes darken just slightly. “I don’t mind.” And that’s genuine enough – he certainly doesn’t mind the mental image of you with your fingers wrapped around his cock, teasing him as he whimpered and begged for a release, completely submissive to you in the moment. He wouldn’t mind that at all.

You grip the edge of the table and run a tongue over your teeth briefly. “I can turn around.”

“Really?” he asks. “You want to?”

“I want to.”

“Alright then,” he says, smiling. “Better get to it. We don’t want the others realising we’re gone, now, do we?” And you shake your head in response. Now that Jeff’s a little nicer, you’re more comfortable around him. He realises it, too, and so he allows himself to do the things he normally wouldn’t, brushing your hair out of your face for you and really looking into your eyes. Sex sort of became meaningless for him sometime along his life, full of emptiness and loneliness even in that intimate act – that’s the trouble he gets for sleeping his way out of his problems. And so, looking in his partner’s eyes has always brought him some type of shame – he’d always close his eyes and power through it. But you’re nice. You’re familiar. You’re safe and warm and soft. It might be a little to do with the friend thing, but, even when he was with Britta, he never felt this type of comfort, this okay-ness, this general acceptance. It was nice to have, for once: a friend.

He carefully pulls out of you, and then you turn around and bend over the table. Jeff almost stops breathing at the sight in front of him. And it’s not bad, don’t worry – he’s just a bit dramatic. “Jesus Christ,” he curses, and he moves his hands to massage gently at your hips. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.” And it’s true. Slick spills down your thighs, some of it slathered across the table and a fair amount dripping down onto the ground below them. That’s the type of stuff you see in pornos, he thinks amusedly to himself, and he continues to stare in awe at your cunt. Now, what Jeff really wants to do is to kneel down and lay his tongue flat against you. But he controls himself, and, instead, just sucks it up and praises you for it; “Keep that sort of energy up, yeah?”

“You sound like you’re a key-note speaker addressing an assembly of seven year-olds,” you say to him as he places his hands on your ass, spreading the sides apart slightly, his dick straining when he catches a better view of your aching cunt, and then he runs two fingers along your slit – he grows silent for a few heartbeats, amazed at how easily you drip down the length of his fingers and onto his wrist. You then turn back to see him place those fingers in his mouth, and you turn back around, blushing, before he can notice.

“Ah, so you’re into role-play?” he teases, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Sh—” but Jeff is already pushing into you, heavy and strong and thick; you try to continue your sentence without your voice shaking, “—shut u-up.”

He continues all the way to the hilt, and both of you use your hands to hold onto something for stability, his on your hips, and yours flat on the table. “You know,” he says as he bends over you, chest against your back, one hand coming to rest on the wall by your head, coaxing a pant or two out of you as he does so, “it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Role-play’s good once in a while.”

“Uh-huh,” you manage breathily. “You sound like you’re covering up a deeply concerning fantasy, there.”

“Don’t shame me.”

“We all know what it stands for, Jeff. ‘Role-play’s good once in a while.’ Really? Show me where you hid the goddamn body.”

He exhales amusedly through his nose. “I feel like you’re just trying to ease in with your officer-perp kink.” And he’s just casually gri-i-i-in-ding up against you, carefully pushing you back down so that your stomach is flat against the table, his lips pressing kisses into your hair and upon your shoulder blades as he starts to find a pace.

“It’s h-hot, okay?” you stutter out, trying to continue the conversation. It’s true enough – police officers can be hot when they want to be, and Jeff would certainly make for an interesting experience in that sector. Not that you were planning to sleep with him again. Fantasies are what’s discussed between a couple – it’s not really something you tell a one-night stand, especially if that one-night stand happens to be one of your closest friends who would never let you forget anything embarrassing you did—ever.

“Really?” Jeff says through a smile, though, now, even he’s having trouble composing himself. He should’ve cum when he could’ve – he feels like he’s about to give way any second, but he, oh, so wants to finish inside of you while you crumble apart around him. “Hands—” his breath catches, “—above your head.”

“I’m literally bent over a table in front of you.”

“Could still apply to some other positions, though.” And, with that, he begins to slowly pull out and push into you, nice and gentle at first, very controlled, but, as I said, Jeff was very quickly losing control, so one can imagine the animalistic desperation that soon kicked in for not just him, but for both parties. You buck up against him feverishly, letting out whines and suppressed, breathy moans and little, desperate whispers of his name (he absolutely loves those), and he just goes at it with all his energy. Who cares if he looks like absolute shit at the party later on? That’s a lot coming from him, he’ll have you know. As long as this memory is playing in his head, he doesn’t care about his hair or his suit anymore (the suit might be a stretch). He tells you breathlessly, “You know, you look good like this. Such a pretty girl.”

There’s the praise that you love. You squeeze around him and pant, “Take a picture—” and Jeff slides a hand between your legs, rubbing at that golden spot, and you have to choose between pressing into his cock or into his hand; the indecision makes your head reel, and the continuation of your sentence is twisted high and quiet, “—it’ll la-ast long-e-er.”

“Is that an invitation, doll? ‘Cause I’m not exactly against it.”

He pounds and pounds into you, nice and firm and precise, until you’re mewling and whining for him. “Be quiet, now,” he whispers against your ear – there are people chattering outside the room, passing through the exit after the party. But you can’t exactly keep it in. You try to hold your breath, you really do, but you end up grunting out when Jeff kneads at one of your breasts. “What?—d’you want those people to hear you or something? You wanna get caught?” You whine suppressedly again. “I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Dirty girl.”

You clench once again, so fucking close to cumming, and he asks, “Can I try something?” And you nod frantically, alongside giving him a rushed, weak verbal affirmation. “I want you to prop yourself up a little more, hands on the wall – can you do that for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, adjusting yourself, and, with your movement, Jeff groans and grips your hips tightly.

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing the place behind your ear. And he continues thrusting, and then swiftly lifts one of your legs right up into the bend of his arm, leaving you to press the side of your face into the wall, your entire body swaying with the sheer force of the rutting of his hips. You feel so full like this, and he’s reaching that heavenly spot inside of you. Your knee gently brushes against his corresponding shoulder whenever he moves into you, out of you.

“Shit,” you curses sharply when he roughens his pace. “Jeff.” His name comes out as an awfully high-pitched sigh.

He huffs, “Yup, that’s me, doll.”

“You’re such a prick.”

“You could at least wait until I’m not inside of you to insult me.”

“Tell me something nice.”

“Something nice? I dunno if I can muster it up – all the things I’m thinking aren’t exactly nice. Definitely not things I’d say to anyone’s grandma.”

“Well, then, be mean,” you chuckle, and he jerks inside of you. “I don’t care.”

“You like getting off on my voice, do you?” His voice is nice and low and gravelly, and it practically grates against your pussy in some magical way, and your whole body shudders beneath him. He keeps at that perfect pace, pressure, and you commend him for his technique, you have to say. “You ever think about me when you touch yourself?” You nod. “Such a perfect, little girl. Fucking perfect.”

And he’s got a good-ish look at your face from this angle. Your eyes are closed in ecstasy, mouth open in silent pleasure, and you’re chasing, chasing that feeling. He can’t help it. He cums. And you follow immediately after – your fists screw up uselessly against the wall, and your legs quake and quake, and you squeeze so impossibly tight around him that he lets out a choked moan at how good it feels. He continues sloppily thrusting up into you, helping you ride out your orgasm while also riding out his own. “God, you’re hot,” he mutters, smiling.

You grin back at him, and his cock twitches again – it’s instinctive, he swears. “You’re not so bad either,” you reply, eyes shimmering in the dim light. Those eyes flutter shut again when he carefully pulls out of you with a sinful, wet noise.

Shit, he thinks to himself as you slip your soaked underwear and your pretty, green dress back on.

Shit, he loves you, doesn’t he?

After he’s put his suit back on, you help to adjust his tie, and he has to try his very, very hardest not to blush. He’s pretty sure you notices anyway, but it’s the effort that counts, right? He really, really wants to kiss you, but he doesn’t know if he should. The one-night stand is over, right?

“Call me tonight?” you ask after a brief pause. Was that the correct thing to do? You and Jeff call sometimes, obviously, when he’s at the store and wants to ask if you want anything, or when you want to order a pizza for yourself but get too nervous and ask for his help—but this’ll clearly be different. Are you still friends? Of course, you know you’re still friends, sure, but is it still the same?

And his heart rate has picked up significantly. You want him to call you. You want to talk to him later. “So you can get off to my voice?” You laugh. He made you laugh. He just made you laugh. The sound is like music to his ears. “I’m not a phone sex line, you know. Not a free one, anyway. If you want my services, you’re gonna have to pay.”

You’re smiling. “What’s your price?”

“$100, give or take.” He neatly folds his pocket square back up and places it into his breast pocket. Like he said, he wants to save it for later. He’s not sure for what, but it seems important to him now. And then, what he bumbles out next is said on a whim – the words are quiet and shy. Yes, shy. Jeff Winger is shy. He’s blushing. His stomach is full of butterflies. “Can I come visit your room instead?”

“Yeah, but it’ll cost you $100, give or take.”

Jeff approaches the door, and you line up behind him. “Ready?” he asks you. And you grab a fistful of his suit jacket from behind, going up on your toes, and kiss him lightly on the corner of his mouth in response.

He doesn’t even notice that you wrinkled his suit. He just closes his eyes and turns around for another kiss.

(Spoiler alert: You don’t end up seeing each other in your hotel room because Britta gets black-out drunk and nearly starts a vodka fire on the bride’s dress, so Jeff has to take her to get her fucking stomach pumped. But he gives you a call, and you come, and you sit together by Britta’s bedside as she sleeps. You talk about weird hospital experiences you’ve had, and then you fall asleep. He lets you rest your head on his shoulder.)

#jeff winger x reader smut #jeff winger x reader #jeff winger #community #pierce hawthorne #abed nadir #troy barnes #britta perry #shirley bennett #annie edison #have fun with this #i have no idea why i wrote this #but i do love it #also i’m very proud of the title

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trojanteapot · 2 years

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This is a Spider-Gwen jumpsuit I made!

Happy Halloween! I made this bodysuit and I'm super happy with it!

I'm gonna break down step by step what i did but I'm NOT a professional cosplayer or seamstress or fashion designer or anything. This is just to document what I've done in case it could help somebody else!

Materials used:

Scuba hex white (2 yards, available at Joann or Cosplay Fabrics International)

Scuba hex black (2 yards, same as previous links)

Web pattern on Spoonflower (make sure to order it printed on spandex!)

Three zippers (one for the bodysuit, two for the arms)

7mm snap buttons for the collar

Wig from @ardawigscanada so I don't actually have to style it as I am lazy and bad at wig styling

Step One: PATTERNING

I used several patterns as a base:

Yaya Han's Ultimate Bodysuit Pattern for the general design (McCall's M7217)

The Yaya Han pattern with a baseball jersey shirt for the arm sleeves (McCall's M7554)

McCall's M7486 for the hood (or you can trace a hood from a sweater of your choice)

Step Two: DRAFTING

First I tested out the bodysuit pattern solely on its own on some cheap stretchy fabric just to make sure it fits. I find that their smallest size fits me well as I am definitely a very stringy person. But the bodysuit was a bit short so i needed to extend the torso parts.

Then I trace out new patterns and draw the Spider-Gwen design on top of them, and cut.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!!!

I wasn't sure if that would fit me either so I made ANOTHER mockup of the pattern I drafted out of scrap fabric (basically the web pattern I ordered but in the wrong size because I am dumb and I don't check things). Turns out this was a GOOD IDEA because this came out too loose! The fabrics I got were veeeery expensive so I'd rather be safe than sorry!

Step Three: COMMENCE SEWING! (AND HAIR PULLING)

After making the adjustments to my paper patterns, I held my breath and started on the bodysuit proper. Hoping that I don't fuck everything up.

I started with the easy stuff, which were the front panels:

So far so good! I didn't use any special types of stitches, just regular straight stitch. I read that other cosplayers may use zigzag stitches for stretchy fabric but I have very little sewing experience and I do NOT trust my sewing machine at all. Just do what you're comfortable with and you'll be fine!

And important note! Make sure you stretch your fabric slightly while sewing! It's supposed to be a stretchy suit after all!

Back panels were a pain, but I got it done... there was a lot of thread pulling and hair pulling and questioning my life choices involved.

then I sewed the sides together! The white and black parts don't align perfectly but you can't really tell in this picture 😅

After that, I sewed the web parts onto the sleeves and the sleeves to the shoulders. That part went surprisingly smoothly so I'm just going to move on. Sorry for the lack of images but there's a photo limit on this website.

Step 3.1 Gloves!!!

Okay so I got a separate pattern for the gloves and also left them to basically the last minute to finish as they're so goddamn difficult!

This tutorial helped me out so much!!!

As you can see in these pictures, my first attempt came out a bit too loose. But it was an easy fix. I just had to take in the thumb and the pinky and it fit reasonably well on my hand.

And I also installed zippers on the seams of my sleeves so I can easily remove my gloves while still keeping them attached to the jumpsuit. This is why this project needed three zippers.

Step 3.2 Collar

And finally, the collar. This almost made me gave up on the entire project.

Right after I sewed the hood on, I was well on my way to finishing, or so I thought!

Because I was combining two different patterns with two different types of collars, I needed to figure out how to make them fit together. there were many MANY failed attempts.

Eventually what I did was I cut out two curved trapezoid shaped things out of the white scuba fabric, sewed that to the top of where the hood connects to the bodysuit, and then sewed the collar on top of that. This made sure that the fabric actually conforms to my neck area.

I placed down a t-shirt to trace the curvy trapezoids, and also make sure you measure your neck area appropriately!

CLOSING THOUGHTS

So yeah that's basically what I did. I admit I was too lazy to dye my flats in order to make her ballet flats but I'm sure that's easy compared to this mess! Anyway my Converses worked in a pinch.

Thank you for reading! Good luck and Happy Halloween!

#spider gwen #spider gwen cosplay #into the spider verse #spiderverse #itsv #cosplay #cosplay tutorial #sewing #sewing tutorial #stuff i made

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mothfables · 5 months

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I have a potentially stupid question. Simply put: How do you write? T-T I have ideas, I have an outline/timeline, I know what I want to do, but I have no idea how to actually write it out. Every time I try, the writing is so stilted and it all just feels...wrong. Do you have any tips or tricks or anything?

it’s not stupid at all!! let’s see... outlines and knowing what you want to happen are good! i write down as much as i can so i don’t forget and can go back to it when i actually start writing.

unfortunately, the rest of it is what anyone else is gonna tell you: practice! if you get an idea, write write write! it’s okay if it’s not good the first, second, or fourth times. you just gotta keep going! get that scene out of your head and into words! even now, looking back at stuff i wrote even a few years ago, i find things i would have done differently, or added to, or not done at all. but then i remember ‘hey, i can actually do that now! i can more easily tell the story i want to be told!’

it’s taken me *years* to find a system that works for me: after i get down everything i can in bullet points, i write a physical first draft. then i go to google docs for the second, then tumblr for the third, and then ao3 for the last. the first draft is to get everything out of my head that i can; every draft after that is fine-tuning until i’m happy with it. sometimes i cut out entire parts!

another thing is read as much as you can! find inspiration in all sorts of things! i love going through fics and finding a line or scene or description that hits me straight in the creative part of my brain. there’s all sorts of writing styles out there- like with drawing, taking inspiration from other creators is natural! not to mention it can help expand your vocabulary and make you think about the way you structure your sentences or scenes (just, y’know, don’t straight up copy someone else’s writing. that’s not cool).

also, don’t be afraid to take a break if things aren’t working out or you get stuck. there have been times where i’m writing a story i’m really excited about and then all of a sudden i just get. stuck. i don’t know how to move on from that one part and i don’t want to skip it because that will throw me off the planned course i have in my head. so i find something else! sometimes i start writing out the next draft, and figuring out the changes i want to make from the previous one can help me get through it. other times i just need to walk away from it for a bit and focus on other things, or go over the scene again in my head, either so i remember what i want to happen or from a different angle/p.o.v.

so to put it shortly: read all sorts of things to expand your knowledge and get that first draft out of your head. don’t worry about it looking pretty or stilted or weird, every time you write you get a little bit better, a little bit closer to that version in your head. and if it changes along the way, that’s fine! that’s a natural part of the process. take a break if you need to. but above all, just keep writing!!

#reply #mod speaks #writing advice #whoops this got long #sorry if it’s rambly haha!#i tend to get hung up on descriptions/putting in *too much* information #i flop between worrying that it’s too much and not enough #everybody’s different #and! what works for me may not work for you!

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astorytotellyourfriends · 1 year

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would you mind talking briefly about your outlining process? what do you include/exclude and how detailed do you get? (and how much - if at all - does the final draft differ from the outline?) i'm trying to start outlining my own writing and don't even know where to begin lol

also i adore your writing, it's absolutely beautiful and i get so excited every time you post about it

i would be happy to!!! 🥹 i'm so flattered that you asked!!

(the funny thing is, i didn't always use outlines. in high school when i was required to turn in an outline + an essay, i'd just write the essay first and then break it down into an outline and my teachers never said a thing. and when i first started writing fanfic i didn't plan anything out at all, i'd just write for a couple hours and then toss it up on quizilla - yes i'm OLD - and call it a new chapter lol!)

i usually use my outlines as a space to just word vomit my ideas! i treat it almost like i'm explaining my idea to a friend (which i do a lot, my friends are constantly getting the "so i have a new idea..." text), and it can either be a series of bullet points or just a stream of consciousness with bits of dialogue thrown in here and there as i think them up.

the nice thing about having an outline is it holds all of the ideas i have so i no longer have to worry about remembering them (because i have a TERRIBLE memory), and it also gives me something to go back and reread when i'm trying to get back into the headspace of an idea, especially if it's been a while since i last worked on it.

as for the final draft differing from the outline, it sort of varies from project to project. sometimes (a lot of times, actually) when i'm writing the characters sort of just take over and steer me in a completely different direction and then i have to try and figure out if i like this new direction or if i want to try and turn it back around to what i meant to have happen. or, sometimes i think "okay, this didn't work out the way i thought it would but i can take the original idea and tuck it in somewhere else later on and it'll be fine!"

(a great example would be the most recent chapter of onlyfans that i've finished, only it hasn't been posted yet so i'm not going to give away any spoilers and instead i'll use another example!)

so this is an excerpt from my outline for the onlyfans au, specifically for chapter three:

and this is how this scene played out in the actual fic:

for this part in particular, i stayed pretty close to the outline! (now i'm sure you can see why the outline for this fic is over 20k...)

but on the flip side, if you were to read the outline for chapter nine, you'd only read about chrissy and eddie's beach date. i didn't plan to write jeff into that chapter at all but somehow i ended up with an entire scene between him and eddie PLUS a full scene of chrissy and eddie making plans to go to the beach! neither of which were in my original outline!

long story short (sorry if i've gone a bit overboard on this, i just really like talking about my writing and i'm so touched that you wanted to know in the first place 🥹), my advice for outlining is don't be afraid to keep it simple. if you're struggling to outline because you feel like you should be fleshing out the story fully before you start writing and it's just not working, then just jot down whatever ideas you do have and go from there!

sometimes a story will just shape itself as you write it, and even the best outline in the world can't always hold itself up to what the story becomes. nobody's forcing you to stick to your outline! it could be as detailed as the excerpt i shared above, or it could simply be something like this:

what's most important is that your outline should help you. if you want to outline your ideas before you start writing, go for it! if not, don't feel like you have to just because other people do!

i hope this helped (and i didn't ramble too much...) and again thank you so much for asking!!! and thank you so so much for your wonderful compliment about my writing 😭 it really means so much to me that you and so many others enjoy what i've shared, especially because sometimes i let myself get bogged down with self-doubt and that makes writer's block all the more tough to handle.

thank you anon 💛 you're welcome in my inbox anytime!

#hellcheer onlyfans au #writing is hard #answered #Anonymous

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irrealisms · 11 months

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two for flinching! liner notes

fic here if you haven't read it!

the title for this one was hard. the one i ended up on comes from this comic by a softer sea (& this crimeboys version by @iidalus); it's also the name of a game of chicken where you're trying to get the other person to flinch, which i think works well also, but honestly that's secondary to the comic. you're my brother and i love you. that's it. no punchline.

lythraceae ranboo5 sometimes says "all fic is meta". some of my fic is only sort of meta; frex under these smothering waves is trying very hard to be a missing scene that fits as closely into canon as possible. two for flinching! is very very much meta. specifically: it's my entry into the Crimeboys Abuse Discourse.

i was really unsure about it for this reason, honestly; it's got a lot of tags going "the author likes cwilbur! the author sympathizes with cwilbur! this fic is about cwilbur being loved and forgiven!" and those are, like. disclaimers.

i've had this fic idea since july 2022. i started actually writing it earlier this month. this... might be the longest i've ever gone between "had fic idea" and "actually wrote it".

the dream & wilbur scene came to me months before the wilbur & tommy scene. i had the concept of "okay, so, wilbur post-revival is so insistent that dream's a good guy who has Been Punished and Redeemed Himself because he wants to believe he's a good guy who has Been Punished and Redeemed Himself, right? what happens if you bring those parallels back up after wilbur no longer thinks dream's a good guy?" but then i didn't really have a way to resolve it that wasn't "wilbur kills himself" and i didn't want to write that fic

and of course the way i ended up resolving it was "let the crimeboys demons win". ultimately, tommy loves wilbur; wilbur's attempts to leave or punish himself or get tommy to stop loving him, ignoring tommy's actual opinions on the matter, are themselves a way in which wilbur hurts tommy. for that matter, wilbur's attempt to get revenge on dream for tommy hurts tommy! tommy is not a revenge-oriented person! the dance party on the beach did more for tommy than the confrontation in the prison did. acknowledgement of the things wilbur did to hurt tommy is important, but so is the fact that... tommy is going to keep loving wilbur and wanting wilbur to be happy, and that's not a bad thing, it's just who tommy is. if wilbur wants to make things right, he has to do that not by taking revenge but by listening to what his victim wants.

a quote by Eve Tushnet that shaped my theology and that kept coming into my mind while writing this: "We think God sends our bad things to chastise us and cleanse us—we think Purgatory is full of bad things. Fire, cancer, rats, what's bad... raccoons are bad. Unjust wages! But what chastises us is the good things in life. Love—if you've ever loved so much it hurts, or if you've ever been loved by somebody, maybe your mother, so much that it hurts you to think about it—that's the fires of Purgatory. In this life and the next."

the hardest and most painful thing of all for wilbur isn't tommy's hate, like he thinks it is at first; it's tommy's unconditional love. but it's also that same love that gives him the strength to keep living, to move on and do better, after the fear of tommy's hatred had pushed him to plan both murder & suicide.

the first draft of this fic was almost entirely dialogue. it was ... fine? it was written. almost all of the images that i'm proud of, the recurring symbols, etc., came through in editing. my beta @erstwhilesparrow helped so much. this is pretty unusual for me, i usually do much less editing than this one needed, but i'm proud of how it ended up.

parts of the beginning of the wilbur & tommy scene are from the wilbur finale/Boundless Sands, but most of it isn't.

i don't know how obvious this came through in the writing, but it's tagged with wilbur having BPD bc that does in fact inform my characterization here: i read cwilbur as splitting white on dream post-revival, and then black during inconsolable differences. (he tends to split on tommy & on himself as well.)

crimeboys are so fun to write. i really, really want to write them more, because they're just such a joy to write. probably the most fun part of the entire fic for me was the few lines of banter they get near the end about long words.

EDIT: also ! this fic is nonzero inspired by peel the scars from off my back by squareupgod. not in a directly-inspired way, i had the basic premise before i read it, but in the way where i read that fic and it just kind of lives in my brain whenever i think about c!crime now. if you're a c!crime fan go read that fic. or reread it if you already have read it. whichever. and then cry. you do have to cry.

#my writing #liner notes #therapists dni #any british ants in the chat?

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adamruz · 11 months

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Do You Love Him?

Summary: Torres helps Kim realize her feelings for Adam.

[This was inspired by the behind the scenes photo of Marina and Benjamin partnering up last fall and I just now finished that draft.]

Words: 759

AO3 link

The unit had been taking turns partnering up with Torres in his first official week as a member of Intelligence and today was Kim’s turn. She didn’t know too much about him yet, but she figured it would be a quiet uneventful day in the car with him. She usually has to deal with Adam singing along to every song on the radio or Kevin rambling on about all of his tenants’ issues, so she was perfectly okay with quiet today. Especially after the morning she had when her and Adam got into a minor argument that escalated after a disagreement about what new refrigerator they wanted to buy.

"Hey, I know it's none of my business, but is that your daughter in the picture on your desk?" Dante asked shyly.

"Yeah, her name's Makayla. She's eight."

“She looks well loved and happy in that picture.”

“She is, thanks.” Kim loved talking about her daughter, but didn’t envision where this conversation would go next.

"You and Ruzek…right?" Dante asked, unaware of their entire situation and backstory.

Kim paused a little before answering, wondering how he placed her and Adam together. He probably noticed them arriving and leaving work with each other or maybe Kevin filled him in or so she thought. "Yeah, we both found her wandering on the street and then Intelligence investigated the murders of her mother, grandmother, and uncle. I fostered her for a bit and then earlier this year, I fully adopted her. But Adam's been there every step of the way and we moved into his dad's old house together a few weeks ago."

"How long have you two been together?"

This really was turning into a not so quiet car ride as Kim expected. "We actually aren’t anything right now, but it's complicated…off and on for almost ten years."

"Do you love him?"

Kim was completely caught off guard and yet didn’t hesitate with her answer, "Yeah, but we..."

"Then it's not complicated at all,” he responded point-blank after cutting her off.

Kim couldn’t muster a response as she was wondering how this guy, practically a kid, that she just met pretty much solved her relationship with Adam in five minutes.

He followed up with another hard hitting question. “Does Ruzek know that you love him?”

Kim drove in silence pondering everything Dante had said to her until a call came over their radios.

“5021 Ida, suspect fleeing down the fire escape.”

“That's Adam!” Kim sped up a bit and drove to where Adam and Kevin were on surveillance. As they pull up, she sees Adam walking with blood seeping through his jeans on his left leg. She barely puts the car in park before she jumps out and runs over to him. “Adam oh my gosh, are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

He puts up his hand to attempt to calm her down. “Kim, I'm fine. I just scraped up my knee chasing this son of a bitch because my damn shoe came untied.” Kevin was chuckling over under the tree where he had the man in handcuffs.

“Oh thank goodness, I was so worried when I saw the blood.”

“I’m okay, I'm perfectly fine.” Adam was still not understanding the sudden freak out as there was very minimal blood. “What's going on with you? I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me today after the ride into work this morning.”

“I’m sorry about that. I just…I love you.” She didn’t envision telling him that today when she woke up and after their argument, but Torres gave her some clarity in the car.

Adam smiled, still confused and reached for her hand, not wanting to cause a scene since they were still on duty. "I love you too, but where's this coming from?"

“I was talking to Torres earlier and he said something that really struck me and I had to not put it off anymore and just say it.” Adam and Kim both flashed a smile in Dante’s direction.

"Well he's a very smart guy if I do say so myself," Adam answered.

Torres and Atwater were standing off to the side by their cars, watching this exchange. "Man, what did you say to Burgess? I've been trying to get those two crazy kids back together for years and you’re here for what? A week?"

Dante laughed, "I just told her if she really loved him, there was nothing complicated about it."

Kevin held out his hand for a fist bump, “you did good, Rookie."

#lexi.writes #kim burgess #dante torres #adam ruzek #kevin atwater #burzek #burzek fic #chicago pd fic #chicago pd

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blognarrymybabes · 2 years

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As I have said before. I am done. I can’t. I can’t watch it and I am not going to even watch season 4. It’s too heartbreaking and I have no fucking hopes for season 5. I just watched Will and Mike’s clip in the van , the Mike el forehead touch and Mike monologue and I can’t believe they can hate a character to this degree.

I feel like they had too many ideas and instead of keeping it simple and core to the main characters they tried to do too many different things from different references (remember the white board with all movie names they took their so called inspiration from) that it turned into a big flop.

To have an unrequited love is fine

To have an unrequited gay love is also fine

But in this situation with everything that we have seen so far from season 1

IT IS NOT FINE

The whole thing doesn’t make sense. Mike wheeler doesn’t make sense. His character went from the leader, the protector, the person who could tell Will was alive by just his breathing, the person who knew his mood or if he was okay is now a prop for Eleven, he didn’t even questioned why Will is crying, didn’t even noticed ???? And actually smiled when Will said El needs you. I can’t !!!! Mike’s character couldn’t be more degressed they made him into a pathetic asshole who is like a jerk to his best friend of 10 years apparently for no reason and the only problem he has is telling eleven I love you back

The whole Eleven’s development till Season 4 Vol1 flushed down the drain by getting back together with Mike because of his love for her.

And I can’t even formulate about Will, the once Main Character reduced to a gay pining selfless boy who only touches his neck when he senses vecna. He has been through so much so so much and he thinks he is a mistake 💔

This all is just lazy ass writing trying to keep your audience (mileven shippers) happy. Everything boiling down to that lousy, zero genuine Mike monologue and they called that his best acting !

They used Will’s feelings to push Mike and Eleven together. They treated Will’s character and his feelings like shit. He opened his entire heart to Mike ! Told him he is the heart of the group all so that Mike can tell Eleven I love you. I hate this. They treated his character like shit, his feelings were like device to prove mileven is endgame. It already was !!!! They both are dating for two seasons now. They made him so miserable.

And I with my own two eyes saw the swing set in vol1 I was not tripping. I mean how that painting changed

I give up. I got way too attached. My mistake.

I have never been queerbaited before this was my first time and I can’t handle it tbh.

This is homophobic and queerbaiting to the next level

I honestly believed Byler was real. Will deserves so much, I can see that he is going to sacrifice in the future. He basically did that now in season 4 for Mike to be with El

I learnt my lesson the hardest way possible

And yes it’s queerbaiting !!!

I mean the actors are telling one thing in the interviews and series is completely different

Finn was like “Mike is trying to be normal and is in to new things “ and Mike’s entire I love you monologue to Eleven was fucking forced ! So forced!

Duffers said “ he was given some hard hitting stuff. His best acting” wtf

Duffers said “the painting is important they had several drafts.” In vol1 i could see the swing set with my own two bloody eyes but it is not swing set it is something else”

Duffers said “Will’s sexuality will be addressed” I am like where?

Welcome to American media. Here they show that they're inclusive but no our main cast is obviously CIS het people. Cuz omg are you kidding me?

This morning Netflix crashed so they got the money alright

I don’t have it in me to watch stranger things anymore I think I know where they are going with this.

I am hoping and I will happy if Will turns out to be a villain

I am going to be in Byler land reading fics and just whatever happened today didn’t happened

And for the record I am straight, I just fell in love with Will’s character and then realized Byler while watching. And I have queer friends and people in my family who do think the same thing and ship Byler. [ I had made a post about how I started shipping Byler. I was hesitant to put it out. But if you’re interested in reading I will upload it ]

So no you guys here are not delusional at all. If I could see it, anyone can. It’s common sense and following the story it doesn’t have to be some kind of lens.

Either Noah and Finn are crushing over each other or Duffers are coward and chickened out. If they did, they are stupid enough to not realize the gold mine they were sitting on.

That’s it for my rant.

#Byler #my condolences #I am out #I am so fucking mad and exhausted #they did them dirty #they did Will so so dirty #I hate duffer brothers #mike wheeler #will byers #noah schnapp #finn wolfhard #netfilx

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thehealingsystem · 1 year

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top 5 cg chapters and top 5 mp100 characters for the top 5 ask game :]

OH. okay. hmmm these will probs all be c!henry centric

1. The Ink Demon

Where do I start. This chapter...perfect ending for the first part. Couldn't even think about anything better than this. Every time I even GLANCE at the ending it gives me the feels. What happened there, Henry having to trust Joey and work with him ("What about you?" GJSJFHSHHFF), the Ink Demon finally given a soul, just the pure shock + Henry reflecting on his past compared to his present. Him IMMEDIATELY adopting Bendy, seeing how he changed. And ending it off with "Now what?" Just....yes

2. Those Still, Soft Spaces

I reread this chapter a lot. Filled with fluff yet its just so...sad. I'm SO GLAD Henry got to have those moments by himself, alone, just letting himself feel and experience the world for the first time in years. Actually realizing that the time loop was broken, that he was free. Even when he had given up hope a long time ago. Him being so damn happy over chex mix of all things was just so adorable but also just so :( this chapter just hits so hard. Him crying with pure happiness, plus the toons actually getting to have a proper introduction with him. I love it

3. Blackout

This chapter was so terrifying...C!Henry IMMEDIATELY stepped up to the plate here. And seeing HS!Henry do so as well despite his fear was refreshing. We got a special moment with the Henries bc of it, but also that fight...C!Henry is so badass, but I hate how this is just his norm. And that NIGHTMARE. A part of me wants it to be more than a nightmare, and considering the theme of CG it probably was, but also does he need to suffer more. does he. the answer is no

I do have a fic in the drafts for this chapter from a different perspective (gonna be mostly hs!joey tho not solely him). When am I gonna finish it? I have no idea. But I really want to see what it was like for the rest of them. But I'm glad we got to see C!Henry's dream

Also it seems that he's gained some respect points from that fight. It clearly shows in recent chapters. "Henry'll be there!" "If anyone could keep it check, it'd be him" “Besides, ah, Henry, he’s proven he’s not a pushover. I’ll be fine" He's gained some trust from others, they rely on him to protect them now (I personally think it should be the other way around...but I'm glad they see his reliability)

4. There's A Lot to Unpack Here...

This chapter hurts, but it was expected. Honestly it would've been better if they had known what to expect. I mean, I would too be pissed if a guy I used to be friends with had trapped me in a time loop for years, only to be suddenly brought to a separate world where nothing had ever gone wrong and that very same man's counterpart was also there, while also completely misunderstanding just what had happened there. When they started DEFENDING HIS JOEY....he got SO PISSED. I don't blame him at all ("How can you be sure it was even his fault?" Susie sweetie I know you mean well but omfg)

5. Story Time

Ah! An AWRB chapter! Finally! I was waiting for this to happen. And damn that hurt! He needed to actually admit what happened and not keep it all inside, but I feel bad for Al and Tom. Imagine finding out your entire life is a lie? Gonna be even worse when they find out who they used to be. It would probably also result in them also having their grudge against Joey. And HS!Joey's gonna feel even worse than he already does

OH and it was DEFINITELY him who eavesdropped on their conversation. We've had absolute radio silence from him on his part, and all he's done is been holed up in his office. If he's trying to find a solution for Sammy/Sam, or something more (cause believe me, why wouldn't he try to fix their side after hearing that?), I don't know

I think I'm gonna answer the second one in a separate post...don't want it too long + mp100 is too off topic for this

For anyone curious, this is about this fanfic. It's super amazing, so I suggest if you like bendy you should read it!

#batim #bendy and the ink machine #cracked glass #cracked glass au #hells studio au #henry stein #joey drew #sammy lawrence #susie campbell #allison angel #tom the wolf #bendy #the ink demon #tamd #awrb #asks

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raybyanothername · 2 years

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...Fine i didnt really expect much else. I will however ask you how many WIPS you have going at the moment. And if you are willing to rant about any of them containing Rhae and her siblings or Targs being absolute dumbasses. (Can you tell I've found my favourite tropes in this fandom?)

I am stuffing my whole hand in my mouth because that gif choice was absolutely hysterical. If you know what happens next... so, you'll get the joke... probably later this weekend sometime? Maybe next week?

I'mma segue into WIPs progress right now... which means I'm going to whine about how they're all picking on me!

Fear In His Eyes - Chapter 2 In Progress! - I'm writing it in a notebook. For whatever reason, this fic refuses to be written on my phone. The first chapter was like this also. They're proper spoiled beasts, like Syrax. The only dumbassery continues to come from Viserys though... everyone else is being angsty balls of awkwardness.

Riding Another Man's Dragon - I'm avoiding eye contact. It knows what I'm about to do and so do I, neither of us are happy about it. Dumbassery will be avoided on a technically!

Concubine Beats King - My baby girl is nearly ready for her debute! And by that I mean the next chapter is almost done. ^^' And is utterly rife with nonsense!

Aegon, Jace, my dears... you're smarter than this. It's okay, Helaena will save you, again. Possibly with an assist from a brother. Not Aemond though. Aemond is winning the Dumbass Award in this chapter, probably. Mostly cause Aegon is pregnant and has an excuse.

Like Mother, Like Son - Oh? Did I call Fear the spoiled beast? Nah. This one. It might actually be longer than Fear Ch 1, given what I've written and how far I still have to go... they haven't even spoken yet this chapter!

So yeah. All of them are annoying me. Rhaenys alone is keeping me sane. And Baela. She goes after what she wants, like a boss, unlike some people.

Secret Prompt Jaegon Fic #1 is about to get 50% of what's written scrapped possibly and it is Entirely Aegon's fault! If he could just, ya know, cooperate? Learn to communicate like a normal person? ...well, the fic wouldn't exist, but I also wouldn't have to scrap so much. So really the only dumbass in this one right now is me. ^^'

According to the Rubric - It's dragon time baby! And some light blackmail... but dragons!

As is true of all of my modern AUs, there is a high level of dumbass behavior. Mostly from Luke for once... who I usually let escape on account of his mischievous little grin amusing me, but not today!

Also almost done with the next chapter. Which makes me happy, cause then the plot will be fully established and we'll be ready to ride the chaos properly.

Secret Prompt Jaegon Fic #2 is debating its genre preferences. I have been dragged along for the ride. Send help. Fluff or smut? Jace is the titular dumbass for this one. To help balance out the other prompt fic focusing on Aegon.

Keeping Up with the Targaryens - A standoff is occurring as I debate the perspective and time frame of the next chapter. Either way, pray for Qarl's sanity. Harwin's already lost his, the Seven gave up long ago. XD

A Targaryen Solution - Oh, we have a proper race for the Head Dumbass position in this next chapter.

Secret Prompt Jaegon Fic #3 - Deep smut zone. No dumbasses allowed. Mostly cause their mouths are busy.

I think that's all the ones currently and actively being written rn... think being the operative word because I've legitimately lost count of all my wips at this point. And I do actually have wips for non-HotD fics too, so things are a bit... shuffled together right now in the document folder. ^^"

There are three more ideas swimming around up in the old noggin' right now. Two other prompt fics (one of them not even for Jaegon!) and some modern fic concepts. Plus there's a Lucemond one shot or twoo being neglected further down the drafts.

I don't know why I used so many Grinch gifs for this, but... he is my whole vibe right now. Which is probably a sign that I should leave my apartment at some point in the near future...

#ray rambles #ray answers #wip stuff #house of the dragon #hotd wips

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jishouhaku · 2 years

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Feelings Toward TBHK Characters

I saw someone do this and immediately wanted to do it too. Technically I had this in drafts for a while, so I had to do it over again.

Nene - I do like Nene and think she’s adorable. She wants to make the people she loves feel better but can also recognize the selfishness in herself. I notice it’s a thing with myself, if a character is IxFP, I tend to not like them very much, but that’s not the case with her.

Hanako - Absolutely favourite character in the series that I wouldn’t even know where to begin with rambling about. Well, I will say i love his expressions and comedic moments! (I also love his English dub voice, it fits him so well and the acting is soooo good)

Kou - Kind of took me a while to like him but he’s a pretty cool character, he is a little rash at first but capable of coming around the block and I love how he had the idea to make donuts for Hanako but as an idea from Nene - I thought that was so sweet.

Teru - He’s not evil but he’s not entirely a good guy either. I like how he presents himself but I like how he’s childish and poisoned by hatred (poor mokke...). I would really love for him to get a taste of his own medicine, like his darker side could be revealed to the students and everyone rejects him as punishment. I also hope at some point he could come around the block.

Tiara - Actually I do like Tiara but I don’t really care about her. I think it’s kind of lame she’s just a kid and is so powerful though. Also really AidaIro, I don’t like how closely the Minamotos resemble each other, it feels lazy.

Nanamine - Nanamine is so mysterious and cool. I’m really drawn to her and curious to know her story. Love her voice and the way she talks.

Natsuhiko - Ehhhh, he’s okay, he can be funny. I like the bit at the end, “Sayonara, baby” when he and Nene are in that weird limbo space. xD I’m also curious about what will become of him and what his feelings will be towards Sakura when her goal is reached.

Tsuchigomori - Cool as fuck with a bomb design. I love his interactions with Kou 😭 and I love that despite never being human he’s fine to interact with them and doesn’t seem to bear a grudge like you see from non-human beings in other media. It’s refreshing. I love that he cared about Hanako so much that his suicide/the rock the kid gave him affected him enough to take it as his yorishiro. (I wonder what it was before?)

Aoi - I have always just been neutral towards her! But it’d be great if she could come back to life and she and what’s his face could be happy.

Akane - I like his design more than I like his character, but it was pretty cool to find out he is half Supernatural.

Yako - Neutral but I also feel deeply for her. The Misaki Stairs arc just makes me so sad and I hurt seeing how Yako is. I kind of hope she and that one teacher guy could talk or get together.

Shijima - Shijima my beloved (familial). Her arc, particularly at the end, stirred up so many emotions in me. AidaIro dubbed it an arc that didn’t make sense but it made perfect sense to me. The scene where the “real” SM was in the hospital with those creepy nurses gossiping with false pities was so ominous and yet she just ignored it all. She wanted to be an artist and finish her painting but she died and I’m so sad, but then she made peace with herself and found her way and I teared up and felt so many things. Beautiful character.

Tsukasa - I mean, at first, I liked and was curious about this character, then I felt kind of “eh” about him because of flatness. Then Red House arc came, an arc I don’t care for which ironically made me love Tsukasa but I still echo the complaint he still feels flat and unexplained. Bomb design though. He’s like The Spooky Hanako.

Mitsuba - I like pretty much everyone in this series except character. And it’s niot that I hate him or have strong feelings against him, I just don’t like him. It’s for exactly the reason other characters didn’t, but I also really, really don’t like his voice in either dub or Japanese. His design is pleasant though and a lot of art people make of him is visually nice too.

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s3899602 · 7 months

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Blog #12 - Week 12

Light’s Project

I have been working on Light’s project this week and have asked for feedback from a few of my peers in regards to my sound design which has helped me immensely. Light seems very happy with the direction things are going. The first draft I sent I obviously wasn’t 100% happy with it but they had no notes so right now I’m just tweaking everything and not changing the length of the audio because it’s taking Light several hours to render 3 minutes of footage and I don’t want them to keep doing that. So, I will work with whatever comes out and just create some specific sounds tailored to the video. Hopefully this will be fine. I still have a week.

Sunday

Rendering took a lot longer than expected. I wish I could've changed some of the sound effects to fit the video better but what are you gonna do if you don’t have the time. It’s okay. Light seemed to be pretty happy with it. It wasn’t my best work but it was alright. Obviously the video looks amazing, I’m definitely happy with how that turned out. From my perspective, I don't know that the video completely fits all of the sound effects I have added, but not much I can do about that because the video is made for the sound and not the other way around.

Tuesday 17/10

Now having seen it in the Black Box I am actually really liking how it turned out. I think I definitely could have built on it a bit more but I like the basic structure of what I’ve done. Obviously it’s never going to be perfect, but Light really liked it and offered to have me come and work on his major project feature film next semester so I think I should stop being so hard on myself.

I ended up doing some panning with the sound effects which I think sounded really cool in the Black Box, I would have liked to do a bit more sub bass at the end to create more of a climax but I’m pretty happy with it. I’m going to put the video on Reaper and continue building on it during the summer maybe to be able to use it in my portfolio.

Kingdom Dance

I really listened to Darrin and Nik’s notes about the use of red, I think a lot of the time, red is associated with hurt and danger which doesn’t really fit with my piece, but I think by the end of the song with the amount of different colours I bring in I don’t think the red is particularly menacing when the music is so upbeat, but I’ve changed it so that the red comes in later and there’s more of a build. I added the movie's original colours (yellow and purple) in the step part instead of red which I think fits it a little better, but I like the end red where it is, so we’ll see what the feedback is on Thursday. There were also some other little notes:

On the roof near the start with the shining yellow, take the roof out

On the roof around the middle when there’s pink, make sure timing is tight and the music warrants the use of the ceiling

I’ve taken out the roof at the start and fixed the timing in the middle, I’ve added a few things there too, I think the red fits there because I’m showing a rainbow of colours, I just realised blue only shows up once in the entire piece but it’s for 0.10 seconds so I don’t think anyone will notice it’s not purple. I keep forgetting blue is a colour to be completely honest.

Sara and Helen said that they made up a story in their heads with the lighting which I think is really cool, Ken said the exact same thing when he watched it a couple weeks ago. I think because I know the movie it comes from so well I keep thinking of it as just a dance scene but the lights definitely make it something else entirely, even though creating a story wasn’t in the forefront of my mind.

Upside Down People

We met with Sara, Helen and the Upside Down People crew to see a draft of the show and it looks amazing. I really love what Sara has done. This whole experience has been incredibly rewarding and I’m glad I get to be a small part of it.

Sara only had a few little notes about the lighting which Mai Han and I are fixing, just some timing issues with the night time sequence. I’m also doing the lighting design for the Dragon Tree story, which is just flickering lights on the walls which mimic candlelight, just to immerse the audience further, make them feel even warmer and cosier than the story makes them feel. We tried that in the Capitol on Thursday and it looked really nice so I’ll time that to the length of the Dragon Tree Story and see how it looks with the entire thing. Here are the notes from Sara and what we’ve done and the steps we still need to take:

Blend the sunrise sequence and the green/purple morning together so there's no black gap in between as they transition from one into the other.

We have worked on this a lot and I think we have transitioned them quite well, this is something we can definitely show Sara next time we’re in the Capitol. I wonder if we should do another version just to see which she liked better but I think this one where it fades backwards and then comes back around to the front is pretty effective and since there’s not much on screen at that point I don’t think we have to worry about pulling focus, but we definitely need to make sure the transition is timed so that it ends before the animation starts when all attention should be focused on the screen.

Blend the end of the night and the start of the sunrise so there’s no gap

Mai Han will be working on this, I think we just need to slowly fade the colours into pink/gold. I'll have a chat with her and see how she’s going with it. I have the Pharos session from Thursday so I can always have a look and see what could be done.

Green/gold morning - I do think this could use a bit more gold/yellow, at the moment it is dominated by the green. But this is in no way urgent and I would suggest only a very subtle addition if you do add - we want it to be clearly distinct from the sunrise. This could be achieved by the blending potentially - bring some of the sunrise colours into the morning rather than adding more green.

This is something we can have a trial version of done in a couple of weeks, definitely something I can work on so Mai Han has a bit of a break!

Green/gold morning can now extend into the animation time too. Once we stitch the two videos together, I estimate a total run time, start to finish of 6 minutes 14 seconds. Work with that timing for now to determine how much longer to program the green/gold lights for.

We need to make sure the timing is really tight here - we don’t want it to be out of sync at all.

I’m excited for the next few weeks!!

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jcwriting · 3 years

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Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep. Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense. It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

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