#put this in the drafts instead of posting right away on accident

[fryingtimes]

"Why is Empanada named Empanada when she has pancakes on her head and can't speak Spanish???"

BECAUSE the admins KNEW that Bagi would be the first to see her, and they KNEW she'd name her "Emergency Breakfast" and there would be NOTHING anyone could do to stop it.

#put this in the drafts instead of posting right away on accident #just pretend it's like fifteen or so minutes after Bagi and Empanada meet #qsmp bagi #qsmp empanada #qsmp

[lulucutie2nitexd]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.From the House of Hearth

Lyney x Reader Angst

Requested but I accidentally posted the draft instead of saving it D:

★

Warnings: depression mention, cheating, kinda self harm

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Requested by @sailorstar9 I'm so sorry for deleting the original on accident. The Gorou one should hopefully be out by tomorrow if I don't need to go back to the hospital.

.

Request: Lyney watches reader walk down the isle with their new husband after He tossed their relationship aside to have a 2 week fling with Lumine.

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I love this request so much I might write a part 2 / two way ending like a fluff and angst yk

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

｡･ﾟﾟ･　　 ･ﾟﾟ･｡

.

.

.

He who gave her rainbow roses. He who left his siblings to be with her. He who put her on the VIP list of every show. He who only wanted to be with Her. He who loved her popularity and fame. He who tossed aside everything, even You just for the almighty traveler. And Yet he has never given You a rainbow rose. He has never left Lynette or Freminet to spend time with you. He replaced you on the VIP list.

You thought you could trust him, I until the night of his performance at the Opera House. Swinging open the door, excited with a gift for him and ready to give him a good luck kiss. But it wasn't meant to happen. There the two where, in each others embrace kissing each other's cheeks and laughing happily together. Just as You and him once did.

Upon him noticing you, he did not even bat an eye. He simply did not care. He started at You, not smiling, no interest or loving expression that he used to hold when he looked at You. You could see it when he looked back at her, how his eyes lit up, how he smiled and came alive. But his next words are what truly broke You. The words that broke him too.

"My sincerest apologies, but I'm afraid it doesn't matter now does it?"

"oh please don't cry now, I don't want to deal with you. He said confidently. Lumine looking at him with confusion and guilt on her expression. He turns back to her "do not pay mind to my mistake." Lumine looking at You in an apologetic way before she pushed Lyney away and walks out of the room instantly. You did not see a face expression on him before you too turned around and left the room.

It's such a shame he threw away years of his relationship to be with her for only two weeks.

Years of healing, trying to trust again, was a very difficult process. But eventually it happens, when You meet your now significant other. The true man of your dreams. Better than any of your exes could ever hope to achieve. And now here You are walking down the isle, most beautiful and elegant clothing on. Flowers decorating the beautiful isle that You will walk down.

You and Lyney are still friends, yes. But he can only think why You would even consider torturing him so much by inviting him. Surely you know this pains him in the worst way possible right? His every regret flooding back to him, the way he misses you. The way he misses your affection, your voice, your scent, your quirks even your flaws.

Ever since his mistake that day, his fling with Lumine. The worst day of his life, his reason for his loss of motivation, his loss of happiness, his loss of light. He is completely dull, like a burn out lightbulb. He's tried so hard to win you back over, but he knows he's failed. He knows he's failed you, failed his siblings, failed himself.

Every night to ensure he can get away from his emotions he picks up a bottle. Ruining his health too.

Lumine in her dress, elegant and sweet, after the incident he lost her too. Lumine, who left Lyney after she realized her mistake. Lumine who apologized to You and became close to You. Lumine who did the right thing compared to Lyney. She's a bridesmaid.

He stares as You as You walk down the isle, ready to call yourself officially married with your significant other. Lyney's chest aching, he can feel his heart beat in his chest. Sounds being lost to him as he tears up. Aching stomach and the inability to stop himself from acting out.

"Does anyone have any objections?"

"WAIT! Please.. I object." Was all that could be heard.

★

Finished

Thinking about writing a part 2 like mentioned earlier

REQS OPEN AS USUAL SLOW RESPONSE DUE TO HEALTH ISSUES

#lyney x reader #lyney #angst #genshin impact #genshin #lyney genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact lyney #angst with comfort

[downforthegas]

Wa//lly Dar//ling really desperate to go has got my brain going (grossness below) 🍎💨

Like I imagine Wa//lly doing something after a rich meal (lets say he's painting cause ofc he is) and suddenly he feels the little drop of pressure in his stomach, maybe a little achy feeling too. He stops painting for a sec and freezes up. He doesn't want to stop now cause he's in the zone, even though he's been told before to go when he needs to go.

But old habits die hard and Wa//lly keeps painting, despite the feeling in his gut. He can't help but rip little toots as paints, except instead of his typical small, almost unnoticeable farts, he's met with long, drawn-out rumbling farts that stink so bad. it's almost hard to focus with how bad the stink is. He'll wave his hand over his butt with every stinky blast. Eventually though, the last fart signals that one more push will lead to an accident. He has to put the palette and the brush aside right now and use the bathroom.

He sits down and doesn't even need to push. The huge log that's been brewing inside him since last night just coils out all in one piece. however big or small it is, Wa//lly can't help but moan in delight at the pain in this tummy goes away. Maybe he lets out some little airy farts as the log finally leaves his body.

OR

He doesn't stop painting and he keeps going, still trying to hold back the huge feeling in his colon. But then he leans forward to get the little details down at the top of the canvas and *SPRRRT!* a loud fart erupts and after putting up a good fight, he can't help but push out the large, long poop while still leaning. It bunches up in his boxers and leaves a huge lump in his pants, which have a slight brown stain from the mess. Finally, he feels better, but now he has a gross, warm feeling in the seat of his pants. Maybe he gets up and changes... or he stays and keeps painting until it's finished. Maybe a heavy meal before a painting sesh was a bad idea...

I imagine Ba//rn would probably tease him a little about it (maybe even suggesting he wear diapers next time)

And if he's desperate to pee... well that's a different idea for another post...

(this has uh... this has been in the drafts for a while...)

#eproctophilia #eprocto #playfellowxxx #gassyfellowxxx #coprophilia #scat kink #scat desperation #pants messing

[harringrieve]

I FUCKING POSTED THIS ON MY MAIN FIRST💀💀💀

Anyway, after a bout of ennui, I grabbed this from my notes drafts bc it started glitching and I’m nervous it’ll delete smth by accident

Somewhere btwn s3/4 I THINK, in a govt hospital wing

“Whaddayou doin here, Harring-har-“

The word seems to get stuck malfunctioning somewhere between his brain and his mouth, as he blinks tiredly, still trying to figure out where the fuck he actually is.

“Oh you know”, gestures around with the folded magazine in his hand, “just uh, makin sure the scientists don’t, like, cart you off to, a- a different secret lab or somethin”

Lab? His tongue is dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth. Scientists? Billy’s brain fuzzily processes what Harrington’s insinuating, the alarm creeping up slowly.

“…..That’s a concern?”

“Oh yeah, big time. Also you’re lucky you woke up when you did, Nancy was supposed to take over next watch shift, and she’s not NEARLY as uh…..chipper as I am.”

“That so.”

“Yeah, no, I think Click-clack is givin her guff for some thing she submitted? I don’t know, she’s tetchy.”

“Have no idea what that means, also quick question-”

“Yeah”

“What the fuck is goin on?”

Harrington’s eyebrows raise as he puffs his cheeks and blows out a big breath,

“Oh jeez man, I don’t think I have enough- fuckin like, brain power to get into the whole thing right now-“

“Ugh, figures”, Billy shuts his eyes again and rests his head back, suddenly over being awake.

“Wh-hey, fuck you, I could be at home right now, instead of this creepy ass lair, but no, we gotta make sure Billy Hargrove doesn’t get vanished by the government.”

Lair? where are they? Harrington doesn’t seem that married to the petulant shit he’s saying anyway, it feels like it’s more just to have something to do. In any other situation Billy would feed the fuck into this, enjoy every button he’s pushing, but FUCK is he tired. His whole body feels like fuzzy static. Fuzzy achy static.

“She’s helping Murray set something up for you”

“What?” His face kinda hurts when his brows twist, giving up his half-assed attempt at sleep.

“Nancy,” he clarifies, “we had a whole exit strategy to get you outta here when you woke up. Get you like, back on your feet and fuck off into the sunset or whatever Max thinks you where gunna do”

Max.

“…….Why are you doin all this?” It’s barely a question really, more like a blank murmur, devoid of any inflection that could give Harrington the slightest hope of gauging Billy’s emotional state.

Steve heaves another slow measured breath, and looks slightly away from Billy, as if to try to remember why himself.

He blinks a few times, makes a vague shrugging gesture with like, the upper half of his body, then shakes his head a little, “Cause fuck these guys.”

Billy almost choked a little, deigning to open his eyes again and glance over.

“Yeah?” He asks with an audibly and visually confused smile, like he’s trying not to laugh at the ridiculous nature of Steve’s statement.

“Yeah, everything’s been their fault for like three years now. I’ve fought shit I wouldn’t put my worst enemies against. Fuckin vile.” He slumps back a bit, “You’re a dick, but like,…” he doesn’t seem to really have much of an answer past that, “Fuck em.”

[later]

“Maaan, Pick a story asshole, either I’m a slut who can’t be friends with girls, or I’m a freak loser, make up your mind”

[Robin walks in]

“What are we talking about?” She sounds like a mix of horrified, delighted, and grossly intrigued.

“He thinks we’re like,” gesturing between himself and Robin, “-secretly in love, or dating, or something”

Robins face scrunches up, “Ew.”

Steve makes a wide sweeping gesture at her, “THATS WHAT I SAID!”, and looks pointedly back at Billy, as if to say, ‘There, see?’

“Jesus, alright, you’re both undateable losers.”

“Oh, he has no problem getting dates-“ completely disregarding and breezing past Billy’s direct insult to her dateability

“The fuck, Rob-“

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, encouraging whatever sly shit she’s onto.

“I don’t know what you guys where sayin earlier about him bein a slut, but it’s not factually incorrect.”

Billy’s well-known cackle bursts outta him for the first time in months.

Steve just seems to deflate with the power of his sigh, arms momentarily thrown up in the air in defeat before landing down against his jeans with a pointed SLAP as he sinks further down into the uncomfortable chair he’s been lounging in this entire time.

“Rob, what are you even doin here-“ he starts off, obviously trying to divert the topic of conversation, god he’s so whiney sometimes, Billy’s kinda obsessed with it, “wait-HOW are you even here?” His tone switches to confused disbeleif, eyeing her with confusion.

“I own a bike, dingus, and I have functioning legs.”

His eyebrows screw together, “You live like, ten minutes by car from here- whaddoyoumean you ‘rode your bike’, it’s like 90 degrees out-“ he flings an arm out towards the windowless wall.

“Jeez, okay mom, I-“

“Have you had anything to drink? Are you even wearing sunscreen?”

“I’m fine! It’s nice out-“

“It’s the middle of august !”

“It’s the beginning of august, first of all-“

“Heat strokes not a joke Bobbin, you can get-“

“Yes I know, Stevert, I’m in band, I’m outside wearing synthetic hell clothes for practice all summer-“

“Yeah, standing, not biking who knows how many miles uphill in the sun.”

Billy finally interjects, “Jesus I take it back, you’re obviously divorced.”

He gets twin looks of scandal.

“How dare you, first of all-“

“I would never-“

Billy just snorts and settles back into his sheets, “Sure, whatever.”

After a moment of silence

“Actually, Nancy dropped me off on the way to Forrest hills.”

“Oh, you bitch.” Steve breathes out right before Robin breaks out laughing.

Robin and Steve continue sniping back and forth, this time in Italian, Steve rapid-fire, Robin more careful and deliberate.

#billy x steve #steve x billy #stranger things fic #stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my fic tag #long post #jic #harringrove

[lakrisrot]

WIP tag game

tagged by @villainihavedonethymotheronao3

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

easy enough, as I only have one CR related wip right now, creatively named “castle fic”

I’ll just put a snippet right away, since I only have the one.

tagging @witchespaint if you feel like it!

Caleb sits in bed, sprained leg kept steady between pillows of musty brocade, and stares at the doorway that just opened itself in his coat closet.

It is quiet in the room, deathly still in the way that old, empty castles are at night. Is it night? He has only seen the sky once since he arrived here. Still, exhaustion had caught him once more, pulling him under, into woven blankets that smell of ancient smoke and skin. Sour, heavy, textured against his still bruised cheek. He had slept until the unconscious resettling of his limbs had stoked a flash fire within his kneecap.

Blinking crusty eyes open to an unlit chamber, still unfamiliar enough after two nights to cause a nauseating surge of fear, he had snapped his fingers for his Dancing Lights and felt real panic when the room remained dark as death. They had taken his components, he reminds himself. There are no glowworms to be found in this graveyard of a prison, no wychwood trees to carefully carve into. He fills his hand with flame instead—the instinct following close behind his initial impulse. Fire pools in his cupped palm, casting the bed in flickering orange, stretching long shadows from the posters of the canopy.

It is a decent bed, though lumpy in places and strangely yielding in others. The floors are of cold stone. The reds of the wall tapestries have long faded into dark maroon. Opposite him, across the chamber, his closet door hangs open, surely a clumsy accident from his earlier hobbling about the room. Beyond, there is darkness—and a slight draft. He feels it rustle the tongues of flame in his hand, smells the coolness of changed air.

He throws his flame, a blazing, fist-sized ball of it, and it soars and falls into obscurity like a dying star across the sky. But first, it illuminates what lies beyond: A set of narrow turret stairs, winding upwards into an unknown space.

#wip game

[hana-akari]

I think it's funny that you claim not to play favorites, yet you only reply to like, 2-3 people. Ever.

And instead of reaching out to tell someone you're no longer interested, you just end up ignoring them entirely.

You're making it so others don't have fun when you won't even put in the effort to tell them you're not feeling up to it anymore.

Please, for the love of god, tell me who you are so we can talk like adults. Like please, I don’t need this right now. I get it. I know I need to work on my drafts. I have a lot of them and I acknowledge I’ve been neglecting them. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to interact with any of them any less. Like you can literally send me asks and shit post for interactions in the mean time.

Some longer replies take me longer. I’m not trying to take away anyone’s fun!! I swear I’m not trying to do anything!!! I don’t know who you are, but I deeply apologize for ruining your fun and not getting to your reply fast enough. It’s literally nothing personal. 

I do not ignore people! I’m socially awkward! I don’t know how to reach out first! Nothing has stopped you once from dming me, asking if I have your reply, or reminding me of it. But instead of giving me a friendly poke, you send me asks like this and trigger my rejection dysphoria and make me absolutely paranoid about who you might be. Who I might be accidently hurting by just chilling. 

How am I supposed to help you at all if you refuse to reach out to me? How? I haven’t dropped anyone’s thread. Again, I admit, I’ve been neglecting my drafts. But that’s nothing personal! Idk how much I can apologize and say I’m not this bad, heartless person trying to ruin someone’s experience. I’m just a stupid idiot with a short attention span. 

I appreciate when people poke me and give me small reminders. This? This right here? Helps no one. Besides makes me upset and not want to write.

#TiredPunk: Ooc #I want to vomit #I hate this so much #I hate knowing I'm ruining someones time but not knowing who they are

[thedarkestgreys]

16, 20 and 28

🥰🥰🥰🥰

16) do you research for your fics? if so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident while researching?

totally depends on the fic. there’s certain things I feel like it’s totally fine to just make up for the sake of making a plot work, but not so much for others. Currently I’m learning a lot about drugs and their side effects, cost, etc… 😅😅😅 but back in the day my knowledge of the world of ASOIAF/GoT was extensive due to research, like to the point that it was easier for certain friends to just ask me clarify canon material instead of looking up the information themselves 🤷🏻‍♀️ (all that information is probably still trapped away in the ol’ noggin)

20) Whats your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Right now it’s when I’m hitting particular parts of my outlined draft that I’m really looking forward to writing. I don’t think I use a lot of filler content, but there’s always going to be Big Moments that I have planned that I’m really excited to get to writing. Certain lines I’ve had planned and getting to finally put down (“You’re not dangerous. You’re Fezco.” is a great example imo) and getting to see reactions to them when it’s finally publish is always something I enjoy!

28) How do you deal with writing pressure? (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines etc…)

Honestly if I’m feeling pressure it’s all internal, it’s all from myself lol. I don’t ever feel pressure to update. Like this is something I do because I enjoy it and I’m doing it for free, so unless I have a self imposed schedule, I don’t feel like I HAVE to update to make people happy if that makes sense. Same kinda goes with negative comments - I’m doing this for free, if you don’t like my content, don’t read it. If your upset with a choice I’ve made in my plot and feel the need to be negative about it in my comments, I’m also really cool with that because if my choices bother you that much no one is making you read it ya know?

Deadlines too, all of mine are self imposed. I wrote the first 1/3 of your violent overnight rush like a freakin’ maniac imo, 65k-ish over like a two month period or so? I know I’m not going to write the second and third acts that quickly, and I’ve been honest about changing up my posting schedule when I bring it back from the month long hiatus it’s going on after Sunday. But it’s because I know chapters are going to be longer and the plot is getting heavier and I really want to give y’all the best I can, so if I need the time to do that, I need the time to do that.

#saintclubbing #thank you! #bex answers #fic writer ask game

[sleepymarmot]

Obi-Wan Kenobi, episode 6

This is just an anime battle. Obi-Wan remembers the people he wants to protect and levels up in an instant. Very weird to see in an American show from an American franchise.

Alright, when Anakin’s voice said “Anakin’s gone” I got chills. Wise of the show to remind us what his voice sounds like so that this moment would be unmissable.

Obi-Wan king of making the same mistake twice. His presence reduces Darth Vader to a lonely kid again and he just. Takes the words Anakin uses to lash out completely at face value. Like. I can’t believe all of these gifsets showed “I did” and left out “The same way, I will destroy you!” which, along with the tone of his voice, really clarifies the intent. This is the last scrape of agency he has. He needs to believe he did this to himself, he chose this, he wasn’t just a pawn who lost everything for nothing. And Obi-Wan doesn’t fucking get it. Truly this is hopeless. It takes a Skywalker to know one. And now we’ll cut to Tatooine to see how the fuck the only person who can solve this survives to do so. Nice sequence, by the way. Show us how Obi-Wan fails and then remind us of the person who won’t. And by now I truly can’t tell if this scene is absolving Obi-Wan of his lie to Luke, or condemning him even further by giving him the opportunity to do what he demanded of Luke and fail to do that for the second time. There are two solutions to this problem. Try to save him or try to kill him. For the second time, Obi-Wan chooses inaction. (Good thing he is in Star Wars, not Mass Effect; making a similar choice by accident cost me the galaxy in that one.) Now he doesn’t have the excuse of shock or urgency; he’s had time to think and he chooses the same thing. Well, at least this time he only turns his back on the galaxy, not on his former friend burning alive. (Which the show did not address enough.)

(Btw, the lighting looks great, but I can’t say I’m excited if it is really supposed to color-code how we’re meant to judge the truthfulness and moral correctness of every line in this exchange.)

Why does Reva wants to kill Luke anyway? She knows he’s important but she doesn't know he's Anakin’s son, right?

This doesn’t make a lot of sense. She says she failed her classmates by not killing Luke like Anakin killed them... Then she is horrified by the idea she became like Anakin. Hold on, you just said that’s what you were trying to do! At least she made the big decision fully by herself instead of being convinced by the Light Side White Man. I still don’t get what she knows about the twins and how. Did she somehow deduce that both Leia and Luke were Anakin’s kids... right after Leia slipped away from her?

And of course episode 6 is built around the parallels with Episode VI. This show’s entire structure has been echoing the two trilogies, but here it is the most prominent. One half is about Anakin peeking out of Vader’s mask and Obi-Wan being put in a situation Luke will be in the future but retracing his own steps from the past. The other is a villain from the Dark Side, Anakin’s mirror, decides that Luke will not die today.

Vader: He will not evade me again. And then he did! For like nine more years.

“Perhaps your feelings for your old master have left you weakened.” The ship manifesto screenplay strikes again lmao.

Vader, half a minute after That Rant: “Kenobi means nothing”. I already had that post about Anakin and never not having a master in his life in my drafts waiting for a re-reblog, now I really need to bump it up. Like it’s not an accident that the same word was just used! Vader confirms his commitment to the new master over the old one; on the other side, Obi-Wan insists that both he and Reva are now “free” of their obsession with Vader. Well, that's one way to find closure, I guess. Or, to be more precise... Obi-Wan, who is on the Light Side, and Reva, who abandons the Dark Side, get their closure by letting go. Anakin, who stays on the Dark Side, cannot let go, but is forbidden to acting on it — instead of closure, he gets despair.

Good moms show support for their children’s aesthetics and hobbies, such as: armed resistance against the oppressive state!

Alright, I laughed out loud at Leia seeing the man who saved her life and focusing on her pet droid (who nearly got them all killed) first.

Ooooh here comes the shitty overly gendered line! Oh fuck they played one of the classic themes during it. How dare they manipulate my emotions with the music that I don’t even remember the origin of!

It’s a shame Luke doesn’t look like his adult self the way Leia does.

So no final shot of Reva?! *throws phone*

#star wars #kenobi series #blah blah blah

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

[mistaeq]

the stardust crusaders' hogwarts adventure: HCs

tw // none

dora's note: is this dora posting? what the hell? yes it is, i'm finally working. hopefully. i promise i'm doing by best yes ^^ i felt like doing this today, so... finally got to finish a draft that has been there for quite a while.

DISCLAIMER !! y/n is NOT a student in joseph's HCs, they're a GROWN ADULT with a JOB. !!

taglist: @fragolaaaaaaa @outofthiszawarudo @sky1mercy @cheemerthebebopfreak @berryvalentine @yandere-lovebites @catboy-kira @komaeda-kinnie [if you wanna be removed or added, all it requires is a dm or an ask !!]

kujo jotaro

♥︎ when he first sat down under the sorting hat, he didn't know what to expect and did not care in which house he would have ended up. everyone in his family, though, always had been one of two precise houses: slytherin or hufflepuff. so, very deep down, he hoped in one of them. but a different one would have been cool with him too, he would have been the first in his family with a different house sorting. he waited for a time that seemed neverending, but earlier than expected, the sorting hat said: "slytherin."

♥︎ the two of you met for the first time during a quidditch tournament. jotaro was a seeker, one of the most precise ones hogwarts had ever had. you caused him an accident, running over him with your broom, causing the two of you to fall to the ground. needless to say, he held a grudge on you for several days, until you had to get along to train for quidditch again.

♥︎ you wouldn't expect it from a wizard like him, but his favourite subjects are care of magical creatures, to study them, protect them, and get on an empathetic level with them, and muggle studies, to get to know more about muggles, in honor of his father, kujo sadao, who's not a wizard.

♥︎ it didn't take long for jotaro to manage to manifest his patronus. he had tried to practice that spell, since before the arrival of the dementors at the school. the two of you used to practice together after quidditch trainings, making you the first person - apart from him, of course - to witness the awaking of his patronus: a beautiful dolphin, a symbol of intelligence and protection.

♥︎ you will probably have to be the one to ask him first out on a date. he's not the best one when it comes to grades, and he spends quite a lot of time with his friends, trying not to think about it. no, he doesn't really care about having the best marks. you should ask one of his best friends, kakyoin noriaki, about what to do to convince him to go out on a date with you. most likely, he'll say yes because he trusts you enough to feel safe.

♥︎ jotaro does not underestimate your powers and doesn't feel the need to constantly protect you, but he must admit that as soon as the teachers of defense against the dark arts start disappearing every year or try to attack the students themselves, he's a little bit worried about you. he starts showing up outside your classroom at the end of every lesson, to check on you and keep you company until you get to you next lesson's classroom.

kakyoin noriaki

♥︎ when he sat down under the sorting hat, he was really nervous. what if it said that he wasn't even a wizard? what if he ended up in a house that would have disappointed his family? the redhead was shaking like a leaf, even at the point that the sorting hat itself asked him to calm down to allow it to examinate him better. noriaki's terror soon disappeared, as soon as the hat spoke. "okay, okay, my guy. you can calm down. ravenclaw!"

♥︎ the two of you met for the first time in the library of the school. you were looking for a specific book, the one about the fantastic beasts of the wizarding world and where to find them, when a guy who wasn't looking where he was going, hit the ladder you were standing on, making you fall, right... in his arms. ugh, that sounded like a pathetic love story beginning. until you heard a giggle from the corner of the room. the guy that was making fun of that scene was kakyoin.

♥︎ noriaki's favourite subjects are transfiguration, since he always says he has a talent in transforming objects in what he wants, and defence against the dark arts, since he wishes to become a professor one day. why is it related to that? well, since the professors of defence against the dark arts seem to change every year for some reason, his turn will come sooner or later, or not?

♥︎ for kakyoin, it was a little bit more complicated to manifest his patronus. he kept on focusing on the technique and the way he had to move his wand, instead of focusing on his inner power and mind. but after many efforts, it finally showed up: a beautiful fox, symbol of wisdom and guidance. he told you first thing.

♥︎ noriaki will probably be the one to ask you out for a date first. but he would do it through a letter. he's smart enough to write one that will convince you that he's worth it and that he's perfect for you. the redhead can't imagine you already think of him as such. either way, the letter will be very sweer and heartfelt, even if a little bit awkward sometimes. but you'll say yes regardless, he put a lot of effort in it, and has always been respectful towards you.

♥︎ he wouldn't be much worried about you at first, hogwarts is a safe place for the students, after all, right? right? oh, what? in a bathroom the little hermione granger almost got killed by a troll? you know what, nevermind? the guy is gonna be glued to you the whole time, he'll even skip lessons for it, despite how much they mean for him. you're not gonna get attacked by anything, with him by your side.

muhammad avdol

♥︎ everyone envied him when he sat down under the sorting hat, because despite the young age at the time, he looked absolutely calm and collected. he had no anxiety, and his eyes were closed, in complete relaxation, as if him and the sorting hat had some sort of mental communication going on. his smile was endearing, his fingers intertwined in front of his chest. but the hat seemed to take a lot of time sorting him. "your heart said gryffindor, my dear boy. but your soul spoke hufflepuff to me." the hat declared. but then... "hufflepuff!"

♥︎ the two of you met for the first time on the stairs. yes, the ones that like to change. your books had fallen from your arms on the stairs, and since he was passing by, he decided to lend a helping hand. what you didn't notice, was that you were standing right between the stairs and the floor. when the stairs changed, hadn't it been for muhammad's quick reflex of pulling you on his side, you would have probably fallen down several floors.

♥︎ avdol is naturally gifted, when it comes to subjects like astronomy, or his favourite one, divination. he seems to be the only student who doesn't stare at mrs. trelawney as if she were completely crazy. the majority of the ravenclaws, his friend noriaki included, sometimes don't even listen to her. but avdol does, and he's completely in love with the subject.

♥︎ it hadn't been difficult at all for avdol, to manifest his patronus. almost natural, for him. you weren't there to witness it, but you studied and practiced with him for it several times. the last time he tried, a beautiful and graceful phoenix escaped muhammad's wand, symbol of resurrection and life after death, a patronus that the student took as a symbol of hope.

♥︎ none of you two will ask the other out for a date. the love between you and avdol would bloom spontaneously, without the need of dating. you would find yourselves behaving like a couple just naturally. he likes to give you tarot readings and to stargaze with you. the stargazing sessions are the ones that get the two of you closer to each other.

♥︎ avdol would be protective over you since the very beginning. he can sense something's off in the school, and his tarot readings about hogwarts's future keep getting darker and more mysterious everytime. but every single reading hints at an upcoming source of danger, that most likely would be voldemort, he supposes. he has to keep an eye on you. he's scared.

jean pierre polnareff

♥︎ oh boy, this guy was mad nervous when he sat down under the sorting hat. everything but slytherin, everything but slytherin. surely, he knew he wouldn't have ended up in ravenclaw. he wasn't that much of a smart guy, but he did his best. either way, everything would have been cool to him, apart from slytherin. it just didn't sit right to him. but luckily, before jean could ask the sorting hat why was it taking so long, it spoke. "okay, okay, i get it. gryffindor, no doubts!" it said, making the young wizard feel relieved.

♥︎ the two of you met for the first time while he was trying so hard to find his way to the next classroom he had to be in. the school was huge, and polnareff couldn't help but to get confused in the corridors. you offered him your help, but he tried to play it cool, running away and dropping a book. well, you would have brought it to him.

♥︎ polnareff's favourite subjects are charms and flying. they're pretty basic, but he finds them the coolest things about being a wizard. he's a huge fan of quidditch too, but he wouldn't see himself playing. flying lessons give him the same feeling of freedom though, and he loves it so much.

♥︎ it took pretty long for jean pierre to manifest his patronus. he just couldn't focus enough. you've been practising with him, and you manifested it first, so it would have been good to try to help him. until he managed to do it. from his wand, a beautiful horse was freed, a symbol of power, independence, freedom, and nobleness. you could tell jean was satisfied, and grateful to you for helping him in manifesting it.

♥︎ he'll definitely be the one to ask you out first, probably not much time after you helped him to manifest his patronus. that event made him so happy and made him grow so fond of you, that he genuinely wants to improve your relationship, and hopefully, get something more from it. hopefully your heart, hopefully a kiss. but he means it genuinely. he's not trying to exploit you to get your help with assignments. for real.

♥︎ as the years go by, polnareff would start noticing hogwarts isn't the same place that it's always been, or that dumbledore claimed it was. he grows more and more protective of you, every year a worse mess happens, and it's always connected to voldemort. he's not liking it at all. not to mention you're worried, since the gryffindors seem to be pretty involved in it. more than you and jean pierre like to admit. he knows something he's not telling.

joseph joestar

♥︎ in his youth, when he sat down under the sorting hat, he didn't give a shit of what house he would have been sorted in, all he wanted was just start learning magic stuff. joseph was laughing with some handsome boys and pretty girls at the table, and was hoping it wouldn't take long to sort him, his adventure had just started. but the hat actually took really little time to figure out where he was gonna go. "slytherin." it announced, almost immediately.

♥︎ going through the corridors of hogwarts reminds him of many years ago, when you first met. he would never forget the way you told him to go fuck himself, while he was just standing on a chair, reminding everyone that him and his best friend of the time, a young lucius malfoy, were the best kind of wizards because they were purebloods. that was a bunch of bullshit he truly used to believe. luckily, he grew up to understand it wasn't true.

♥︎ now, joseph is a teacher. the last student you would have expected to become one, but he did. a teacher of defense against the dark arts, and he's not planning on leaving anytime soon. he'll keep his eyes open, he heard teachers have been disappearing every year. not to mention a lot of scary stuff is happening at hogwarts. he didn't choose a good time to work.

♥︎ he's always been a quick learner, and he managed to manifest his patronus quicker than many of his classmates. a really cool eagle, a symbol of truth, majesty, strength. despite his attitude, it was clear that joseph was a good wizard, it had to be given to him. and you grew to be into it. to admire it. he secretly liked you, too.

♥︎ joseph took the first step towards you, but he didn't quite ask you out, let's say that to keep his cool, he TOLD you that you and him were gonna date. as if to announce you. you were okay with it, and didn't accept just because you were feeling forced. you accepted because you liked him, and recognized it as a great opportunity to get closer to him. you would have worked on improving the romantic field throughout your relationship.

♥︎ now that he's a teacher, he has to recognize that there's so much going on, that the students do not see. joseph is acknowledged about how dangerous the situation is getting, and more than ever, he reaches out to you, or phones you, no matter the fact that you're working. everyone is talking about voldemort, and he doesn't like the smallest bit of it. he just wants to make sure you're safe.

#riri writes🦉 #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part three #stardust crusaders #kujo jotaro #jotaro x reader #kakyoin noriaki #kakyoin x reader #muhammad avdol #avdol x reader #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff x reader #joseph joestar #joseph x reader #oldseph #oldseph x reader #harry potter #harry potter au #hogwarts #jjba headcanons #mistaeq

[katzkinder]

Hand Headcanons

Yes, you read that right, this is a post just slightly less ridiculous than the one about sneezes sitting in my drafts. Under the cut because there's 800 words, all about HANDS. Feel free to reblog or reply and add on!

Mahiru Shirota: His hands are calloused from housework, tan and with freckles across the knuckles and backs. He keeps his nails filed short and is very diligent about keeping them clean of dirt because long ones are a bother, especially when cooking.

Kuro: Very, very pale, there's a noticeable scar on the webbing between forefinger and thumb on his left hand from an accident with a knife while he was human. Otherwise, they're totally unblemished, in contrast to his Eve's which have a lot of little scars from cooking accidents if you look close enough. He has a habit of biting his nails down the quick or clipping them far, far too short, so Mahiru starts clipping Kuro's nails for him. After centuries of looking ragged and unhealthy they finally... Look nice. Clean. Well cared for. Honestly he has that eboy look about him, so people expect him to paint his nails. He himself thinks he wouldn't mind it... So long as they're not plain black. Give him neons and holos and shimmers, any color, any shade, any finish. Except for matte or glossy black. He does not want to look at his hands and see Rose's.

Sakuya Watanuki: Despite playing acoustic guitar, his subclass healing factor prevents him from building any of the callouses associated with his hobby. Slightly longer nails than you’d expect from a guy, he’s trying to work up the courage to start painting them. Belkia has noticed him eyeing neon polishes in the drugstore makeup aisle while accompanying him and has started privately putting together a list of good brands because he knows from experience just how hard it is to find good neon polish that doesn’t dry to an unpleasant, plastic-y finish.

Misono Alicein: Small, soft, and beautiful, his are exactly the kind of hands you’d expect from a young master. When you hold them they feel very delicate and brittle, like he has bird bones beneath his skin instead of human ones. You didn’t hear it from me, but they look like they belong to a small child. The skin of his wrist is very thin as well, and you can see the veins easily. His nails are too brittle to grow very long without breaking, so he keeps them short to avoid painful hangnails.

Snow Lily: Just like his Eve, his hands are lovely to look at, and would make any artist happy to work with. Really, they look like they belong to a sculpture rather than a person. His nails are always painted with a basecoat and clear polish at the least, though he has a large collection of various colored polish and enjoys letting Misono spoil him by painting them himself. Of course, he spoils his Eve right back by allowing Misono to pick what colors he wears when he’s in the mood to wear some. The lotion he uses during winter to prevent the skin from cracking smells like vanilla and brown sugar.

Mikuni Alicein: People expect his hands to be "young master" hands, soft and pretty and the kind of smooth skin that indicate never having done a hard day's work in his life. Hands like Misono has. Instead they are more like Mahiru's, with callouses built up along his fingers and palms, still well cared for but it's incredibly clear that he isn't some pampered rich kid who never had to work for a thing. You don't work with rope, even a magic one, and come away with nothing to show for it. He’s proud of it, honestly. Proof of how far he’s come, and what all he’s accomplished outside of his father’s sphere of influence. He has poor circulation so they’re constantly ice cold.

Jeje: He’s got long, spidery fingers that are great for the tiny, delicate work of building ships in a bottle. They’re incredibly steady. He’d make for a good surgeon, and they definitely contribute to his skills as a marksman. His guns fuse with his fingers, similar to Kuro’s claws, and he finds the appearance grotesque so he hides them. Mikuni’s absolutely fascinated with the difference in size between his hand and Jeje’s. Sometimes if he gets annoyed with his Eve enough, he’ll just cover Mikuni’s whole face with his hand. Somehow he’s always shocked when this ends in Mikuni licking him.

Neugier Hatiwelt: The bones under his skin are very prominent, and the black of his nails is natural. If he doesn’t trim his nails every other day, they start growing out into claws, and even on inbetween days, he tends to file them. He only really started to care about their appearance after meeting Kuro, stopped while he was gone, and picked up the habit again once he met Youtarou for fear of accidentally harming his companion.

#servamp #mahiru shirota #servamp kuro #sloth pair #sakuya watanuki #misono alicein #snow lily #lust pair #mikuni alicein #servamp jeje #envy pair #neugier hatiwelt #servamp gear #servamp headcanons #kat's katerwauling

[spenciegoob]

Triple Edged Sword Part 3

A/N: This really got more angsty than smutty whoop.. also it’s short but this has been sitting in my drafts for months and it’s time I finally posted the last part.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Angst

Content Warning: brief mention of physical violence, female masturbation, overstimulation, lack of aftercare, potential dub-con interpretation

Word Count: 1.5K

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

____

A good friend of hers and Spencers once said “life is a hell of a thing to happen to someone,” but what happened to Spencer was not just life.

It was an almighty power exacting a revenge on the wrong human. Spencer had to pay the price for a crime he did not commit his whole life figuratively. That was, until it was literally.

She watched the man she loves look back at her as he was dragged out of the courtroom in handcuffs with no solution, eyes full of terror. She couldn’t help the fact that her face wore the same expression, her mind full of the what ifs.

What if he never comes home? What if they kill him in there? What if prison breaks him? What if.. What if.. What if..

And unfortunately, one became the truth, because when Spencer did come home to her, he only returned as an empty shell. There was no more light left, his battery not just dying, but short-circuiting, making it so there was no way to recharge.

Spencer Reid, the most forgiving person on this planet could not find it deep within him to forgive himself. He couldn’t let himself off the hook after he left her there, terrified and alone, and he most definitely couldn’t forgive himself when right after the first time she visited him, he turned around one last time to see her finally cry because she thought he wasn’t looking.

But what he really couldn’t forgive was the day he returned home to her.

Spencer was sitting on the couch, staring ahead with eyes that were both hyper focused and not focused at all on what was surrounding him when she touched his shoulder. He was quick, too quick, to spin around and grab her wrist so tight that it made her knees weak.

Immediately he had let go, backing up so far into the room that he was close to cowering in the corner.

“It’s okay,” she said, holding her hands in front of her in the most nonthreatening way. Spencer had hurt her, and yet she still worried that she was the threat. “It’s just me. No one’s gonna hurt you. You’re okay now.”

But was he? Because after that, he didn’t allow himself to touch her. Sure, when they went out, he would hold her hand, pulling her close, and he kissed her goodbye when he left their apartment, but behind their bedroom door? It was his way of punishing himself; of not forgiving.

Spencer sat at the foot of their bed, looking down at her with eyes blank enough to scare her. They had done this dance plenty of times before, the moves carved behind her eyelids so she could never forget. 

It happened on accident at first, Spencer walking in after returning home from a case to find her stark naked on the bed, the vibrator pressed against her clit as soft moans masked the sounds of his entrance. 

From the doorframe, Spencer just watched even as every cell in his body screamed at him to step forward and replace the red bullet between her legs with his cock. But he didn’t, and when she realized she was no longer alone, she almost stopped. 

Spencer instructed her not to, and the hesitation she had melted away with the realization that even this little indulgence was new, a first step in thawing the cold wall Spencer built.

He watched her take her panties off, her body on full display for the man who did not let himself indulge. She reached over to grab her bullet vibrator, something that was added to the collection a while ago after they both realized that while he was away on cases, she deserved the pleasure it gave her.

“Spence, you know it’s okay to touch me, right?” She asked, trying to pull the man she once knew back from the darkness that surrounded him. Spencer didn’t look up to meet her gaze, keeping his eyes on her cunt that invited him in by glistening under the moonlight that seeped through the curtains.

“Keep going... Please.”

Only once did he allow himself the slightest of movements when he heard the vibrations kick to life, his hand twitching involuntarily, aching to reach out and finally touch her. But even when the vibrator touched her clit, causing her back to arch and a moan to claw its way from her chest, he didn’t touch her.

And while pleasure spread through her like a wildfire, her heart still hammered to a beat not meant for the bedroom. It still sat heavily in her chest, wishing for the one thing the man sitting at the foot of their bed refused to give her.

Her first orgasm was quickly approaching, Spencer could tell my the way her chest stopped moving every 3 or 4 seconds. He watched her explode, the muscles in her body spasming with the vibrations rocking through her, and yet, he still didn’t reach out. 

He sat frozen, his cock painfully hard by now, and still, he refused to touch her.

Slowly, her breath evened out, and she retracted the device from between her legs to shut it off.

“No,” Spencer said sternly. “Again.”

The vibrator kicked back to life, and with trembling fingers, she placed it back on her sensitive clit. During this entire time, she maintained enough composure to keep her eyes on Spencer, but when pleasure bordered on pain, her eyes shut.

Her second orgasm hit her before she had time to process that it was approaching, and she screamed out, broken curses and Spencer’s name bouncing off the wall. 

“Spencer,” she whimpered out once the wave of her second climax settled. “Please.”

“Again.” His tone before was stern, leaving no room for argument or pleads, but this time it was broken. Spencer wanted to touch her, more than anything in this world, but how could he when the looming thought that he would hurt her further loomed over him like a ghost haunting his mind for eternity?

“I- I can’t.” Spencer tore his gaze from her to look at his hands, not in disappointment like she feared it was, but because tears welled in his eyes at her tone. She was exhausted, worn-out, but by far the worst thing Spencer could pick up from those two little words was how sad she sounded.

 And like history repeating itself, she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder only for him to shoot up and grab her wrist. This time he didn’t let go.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, and his grip tightened.

“Y/N-”

“It’s okay,” she repeated once again, and her other hand came to softly cup his cheek. “Come here.”

And when their eyes met, Spencer saw it all. He saw the day she invited him upstairs for the first time, he saw their first morning together consisting of stolen kisses over burning pancakes. He saw the way her eyes lit up when he surprised her with takeout and a movie on his day off. 

Spencer saw the way she still loved him after all this time, throughout all the death, the destruction and the pain, she still loved him.

But she shouldn’t, and he couldn’t let it go on any longer.

So instead, Spencer released her wrist and stepped back until he was out of reach. He watched the hope drain from her eyes, and god how he wished he could put it back, but he shouldn’t, so instead, he made it worse.

“I have to go.”

“Spence-”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, stepping further away from her and reaching for the doorknob. “I really have to go.”

Before he could hear her response, he swiftly left the bedroom, closing the door behind him even though he knew she wouldn’t chase him. Not because she didn’t care, but because in the end she always knew how to truly take care of him, and if space is what he needed, space was what he shall receive. 

It didn’t hurt any less knowing that, however, because when she was certain he was gone, she broke down. Naked and alone, she collapsed on the bedroom floor with sobs choking her. 

With every step away from her Spencer took, more ‘what if’s’ turned to ‘what now.’

___

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#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid Criminal Minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #Spencer Reid series #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds series #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid insert #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds insert

[myheroblogs]

Thoughts on 306

Okay, I swear I went through the 5 stages of grief with this chapter. It was almost like I stopped funtioning from this-

I knew of the leaks, but decided to talk about this on the day of the official release, since the scans aren't 100% accurate.

I guess it wasn't exactly "chapter" but the last "act".

Reminds me of the post that I was going to make that's now abandoned in my drafts (ha)

We're not necessarily in the "last arc", as there are still way too many things to include in the story.

It seems we're probably in the last act of the overall narrarive of the story. If don't know what I mean, think about that "3-Act-Structure" in narratives. Act 1 is the Set-Up, Act 2 is the Confrontation, and Act 3 is the Resolution.

We're now in the 3rd Act. The "Return of the Jedi" phase of the story. Act 1 ended with the torch being passed on after the first OFA vs AFO fight, mentor vs mentor. Now, Act 2 concluded with successor vs successor, after the second OFA vs AFO fight. I would assume Act 3 (or the overall story) may end sometime after the final OFA vs AFO fight, a fight including all users.

It's interesting that both Act 1 and Act 2 appear to be 3 Seasons each for the anime. This chapter may go into the very end of Season 6, around 3 Seasons after All Might and All For One first fought in the anime, All Might retured and passed on the baton to the future generations.

If this final act follows this same pattern, we can expect around 5-6 main story arcs left in the Manga, which is still a long way to go, and each one could vary in length. The final story arc may just be the aftermath of the final OFA vs AFO, so technically we probably have 4-5 arcs before the final showdown.

Now putting that aside, there's now Midoriya dropping out...

Okay, this is just heartbreaking- 😭

This kind of setup with Midoriya is pretty interesting, storywise. Now in the story as well, it's kinda needed for his character.

I don't know about you guys, I'm not saying that Midoriya hasn't gotten any character development. However, it feels like he didn't get much emotional character development, like Todoroki or Bakugo. This may be the Deku-centric arc that we've been waiting for. Or it may be the arc after this, who knows.

I've also seen a lot of people talking that Bakugo Katsuki possibly going after him. I agree with this, but I believe it'll be done at a later date instead. At a time where Midoriya needs saving.

Do you really think that someone like BAKUGO, the only other guy who knows about OFA, who was also in the same hospital as Midoriya and Todoroki at the time, would've been kept out of something like this?

I think Bakugo would've known. Maybe that's why he's not shown. Heck, he may even still be at the hospital. If he really came with Midoriya, he wouldn't be THIS depressed with eyebags under his eyes.

Midoriya's choice of leaving felt so... off to me. Not that it's bad, it's ENTIRELY reasonable. The reason why it felt so wrong was because it kinda parallels Nana's own choice of leaving her son. You all know how this went.

All Might or Midoriya himself could've made Bakugo (and possibly Todoroki too) to promise to not go after him, just like how Nana made All Might and Gran Torino to not to go after her son.

Perhaps both need to be away from each other for a while.

I've seen people suggest the idea that Midoriya may start seeing the flaws of society through this arc where he goes out on his own, when he gets exposed to the harshness of the outside world, unfiltered. This may indeed be the direction for Midoriya, where he'll learn of the people failed through society's system.

However, it'll also be interesting while Midoriya learns of the people failed through this hero system, Bakugo and the others learn of what caused this system to fail. Because society only relied on this one pillar for support, and when this pillar falls, it all just falls down. The best place to probably learn of this is to be at the centre of it all, and UA, now full of heroes of the new generation, is at the centre.

It's interesting that Uraraka may have been the one narrating this chapter, hinted with how the text here says "Deku-kun" in JP.

She just so happens to be one of those characters who wants to support other heroes. About the same as Bakugo.

The topic of going after Midoriya would also bring some interesting topics that may parallel the Kamino accident where the students decided to go after Katsuki. And then they'll probably be faced with a question similar to what Deku faced in the previous chapter. Even if they want to go after him, even if they want to save him, does Midoriya want them to? Because we all know that Midoriya may end up blaming himself if they go after him and something happens to them and make him more upset than before. It's a very interesting topic to be brought up, facing the question of "Reaching out to save someone vs Someone reaching out to be saved", which is a very interesting topic to go into in the future.

Also, Midoriya isn't going out entirely on his own. This chapter just so happens to occur right after the conversation of the vestiges. This is the last line the First User told him beforehand.

There's been a lot of emphasis on these vestiges being there for Midoriya. Even if there's 2 vestiges just moping in the back there, there's still 6 of them willing to help him out.

From the beginning, I've always been interested in how First User will interact with Midoriya. This is because it seems like Horikoshi is setting them up as foils or parallels in a way. I thought there's a chance that at some point, the vestiges may fully take charge of mentoring Midoriya, but I didn't know how that'll go. (I assumed it could be through All Might's death, honestly)

It's kinda convenient that they suddenly could be able to talk to him now without anything hindering them now. I think this is so that they can now freely mentor him at any time. Also, Midoriya could probably still reconnect with All Might as its also revealed he can now feel what's going on with the vestige realm to some extent, so it's not that they're completely out of touch.

Anyways, that's a wrap of what I'm gonna talk about for now. I'll probably make a seperate post about Midoriya's character (and probably Heroes in general) from this point on in the story.

(Or it could just get abandoned like the counless of drafts I have here, haha...)

Well, see you guys in the next one!

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #bnha 306 #ofa #one for all #all might #bakugo katsuki #deku #bnha meta

[skellebonez]

He's Been Hurt Enough (Monkie Kid Cursed AU Fanfic)

And here it is, the follow up to Stop Lying To Me! This went through an overall minor rewrite after @winterpower98 posted some more Cursed AU art and I think it turned out much better for it.

Quick note: once again this is my interpretation of a possible way the revelation could go. I decided to go with a “Mac told Sun everything while MK was transformed last time and that’s part of why he got the stuffing beat out of him and was out of commission last fic” angle. (also no I definitely did not accidently post a draft of the summary by itself when I meant to queue this, that totally did not happen(that happened))

Summary: Wukong has questions, Macaque surprisingly has answers, and MK... well, MK is going to be just fine if Macaque has anything to say about it.

Warnings: mild descriptions of healing inuries from the last fic, hint of child neglect if you are familiar with the AU, Macaque is sightly (incredibly) out of it due to medicine

----------

The first thing Macaque noticed when he came to was that his head felt... wobbly, despite the fact he was clearly laying down and not moving. The second thing he noticed was a disgustingly bitter sweet taste sticking to his tongue. The third thing he noticed was that he laying chest down on a (very small and familiar smelling) pile of clothes. The fourth thing, oh it was a lot of things coming very slowly right after the other which was odd, was that he was completely shirtless and that the only reason he noticed this so slowly was half of his body was almost fascinatingly numb, outside of the warmth of the fire that seemed to be burning in front of him. The last thing he noticed was a very close, also very familiar, and very angry (worried?) looking face of a monkey right in front of his (coincidentally blocking most of that fire light).

"Congratulations," Wukong said flatly. "You are officially not dead."

Macaque stared at the other monkey for a moment before attempting to speak, coughing as the dryness of his throat hit him full force. Before he could move himself, Wukong grabbed his face (gently, more gently than he remembered being touched by the other in so long) and held something to his lips. When he tilted the object and water began to hit his lips he opened his mouth and drank, Wukong never allowing the water to flow from the canteen fast enough to risk him choking on it. It must have been emptied after a short while because the Monkey King took it away faster than Macaque would have liked, but it had been more than enough to quench his thirst and allow him to clear his throat and begin talking. "What... happened?"

The angry (worryied?) look on the other's face deepened. "Should I start when I woke up to you bleeding out over my sucessor? Or should I start when I tried to give you medicine the first time you woke up and you shoved the entire thing in your mouth?"

Well. That second bit explained part of the numbness. And the taste. And possibly why his head felt like it was swimming in that iced cream stuff MK liked so much. He was almost certainly, no definitely, very out of it from whatever Wukong had intended to use to dull his pain. Fantastic.

Instead of voicing all of this he simply said "The... first part?" His voice was rough, but firmer than it had been the first time. He had not realized how almost slurred his words has originally sounded. Wukong' expression softened and. Oh... OH, it was a worried look after all. Huh. Macaque did not expect that. That was... well, not new. But he hadn't seen that in a long time. He... missed that. He didn't realize he had missed that.

"I woke up and I smelled... blood," Wukong started softly. "I was confused, I thought that maybe I hadn't been out for very long after we calmed down MK and you hadn't treated my wounds yet but," his hand went to his side where the bandages Macaque and the kid had carefully applied still held tight. "When I looked around I saw you. Laying face down with one arm over him. And you were just. Just COVERED in blood Macaque. I thought you two had been attacked, I didn't know what kind of demon could do that to you and thought that both of you were hurt." He ran a hand down his face, taking a deep breath, reaching over to prepare something behind him. "It wasn't until I rushed over that I realized that MK was passed out and aside from scratches on his arms you were the only one that was badly hurt."

There it was, the memory of what happened finally came back to him. Telling the kid the truth. The kid losing it. Holding him until he was able to fight back the transformation. The claws. The bite. His arm throbbed, the first not numb thing about his body he felt (though not fully painful), and he was surprised that he hadn't noticed his injured arm laying out in front of him until that moment, fully bandaged and (thankfully) not looking like he was missing a chunk of himself after all.

"MK's been out since I got up. You were completely unresponsive until early sundown, and when you did wake up you were in too much pain to tell me anything. I tried to get you to take some medicine but you grabbed my arm and shoved the entire bundle in our mouth. You passed back out before you could try to eat the salve I put on your wounds too. I'm amazed y-"

"I told him," Macaque interupted without prompting, and when Wuking spun around (too fast you idiot you're going to hurt yourself) with a wet cloth in hand he just let the words fall from his mouth. Why stop them? He had already told Wukong as much as he had told the kid, and the evidence of what had transpired was litterally all over him. Not much he could hide now. It was the exact opposite of what happened then, no more tar and honey returning. Bittersweet and if he were to give it flavor it would be buttercups. "After he passed out the first time I treated your wounds and when he woke up he helped me and then started asking questions..."

Without saying a word Wukong sat and listened, face tightening as he gingerly removed something from his back (gauze perhaps, he had no bandages on) and ran the cloth over numb cuts. He looked only between the wounds and Macaque's face, letting him retell every detail. "Kid tried to fight it but I just. I didn't know what to do when he started to change again so I... I..." He coughed, throat growing dry again.

This time Wukong stopped him, holding the canteen (not empty after all) to his lips again. They sat in silence for a moment, him drinking and Wukong turning to grab a container and fresh gauze and bandages when he stopped. He nodded, going back to the other monkey's back and Macaque realized the container was healing salve for his wounds. He didn't need it or the medicine, not really, but even with his fast healing and sturdyness it never hurt to have extra help to speed up the healing process. "You what, Macaque?"

"I... think I... hugged him into submission?" Macaque scowled, not sure if he even believed what he was saying and not missing the shocked look on the other's face. "And he bit me." He added quickly.

"He BIT you!?" The Monkey King leaned sideways, looking at Macaque increduously before his gaze veered over to his bandaged arm. "Well. That explains... the everything. Your back and arms looked like you were nearly gored from behind, but with how long his claws get when... yeah, that adds up."

"Is he ok?" The question came out without him even thinking about it. Damn medicine... But this only seemed to make Wukong shake his head with a surprised chuckle.

"Yeah, MK is fine. Exhausted, but fine. I treated his arms after I got your back to stop bleeding." He went back to applying the salve, touch a bit more firm as he rubbed it through his now less matted fur. The pressure would have normally made Macaque tense but now it just made him relax further into the clothes he was resting on (which he now noticed were Wukong's top layers and a blanket the kid insisted they each got at one of the many villages they passed through).

For a while the two remained silent, the Monkey King dressing the wounds on the Six Eared Macaque's back. Maybe it was the exhaustion kicking back in or something else, but Macaque just allowed himself to lay there and not think of anything. His mind tried to wander a bit, somewhat toward the kid and somewhat toward the odd reactions of the king, but nothing really stuck with his head swimming as it was. He only opened his eyes (when had he let them close?) when he felt a gentle touch on his arm. He watched as the bandages were unwrapped slowly and the same treatment given to his back was repeated.

"You're lucky he didn't bite your dominant arm," Wukong said softly, finally breaking the silence with a shakiness in his voice that was almost missed. "Or break your arm completely. You'll heal fine, but if you were anyone else you wouldn't even have an arm to treat right now...." He shook his head and under his breath he heard the king mutter "What were you thinking?"

Macaque looked away, gaze catching the still sleeping form of MK on the other side of the low fire. The kid would be exhausted from his second (almost) transformation in 24 hours for a while yet and that made his chest hurt just like before. He remembered the betrayal on his face, so much like and yet so much worse than when he betrayed him by stealing his powers. He remembered how the kid seemed to need the hug he had offered him so long ago at the start of all this as much as he did. He remembered how scared he looked at the prospect of seeing his parents again when he asked about them. And he remembered how much he kid laughed on this journey, how happy he seemed every time he was praised for even the smallest things, how he offered Macaque so much without asking for anything in return even before he put that stupid headband on the kid. He remembered how, despite everything... MK wasn't giving up on him...

He looked back at Wukong, grabbing his leg with as much strength as he could muster in his hurt arm until the other returned his gaze. "He's been hurt enough."

There was an understanding in Sun Wukong's eyes. For the first time in more years than Six Eared Macaque would admit... they understood each other completely without needing more words. MK had been hurt enough. They would take as much hurt away from him as they could.

The moment was broken when his grip weakened he closed his eyes, unable to stay open for as long as he would like, and when he opened them back up Wukong had already finished bandaging up his arm. He noticed a soft pressure around his tail but said nothing, not right now, and he only moved when there was a gentle tapping on his side. "Can you sit up a bit? I need to put on bandages, then you should get some more rest."

Macaque complied, using his good arm to raise himself up just enough for the other's arms to go under and around him to pass the bandages between hands (no, it was not a "almost hug" no matter what his tired brain told him). It was done sooner than expected and a gentle hand on his shoulder pushed him down into the soft fabric beneath him, his gaze fixed firmly on the soundly sleeping form of the kid as he watched to make sure he was really just sleeping.

If he noticed that there were soft claws running through his hair he said nothing. And if Wukong noticed the squeeze of a tail against his own he said nothing either. Eventually he let his eyes slip closed once more, feelin his chest rumble in a soft purr. The claws against his scalp stopped and there was a warmth after a while, a weight around him. Wukong must have laid a blanet over him, but the claws returned and their tails remained intertwined even as he moved to his other side. It wasn't until he felt a rumble beside him that wasn't his own that he realized the blanket was over both of them. He said nothing, not caring about the implications as he allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

And if he, maybe, dreamed of watching the two people he had reluctantly grown to care most about happy... well, he wouldn't say anything about that either.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #six eared macaque #sun wukong #mk #monkey king #cursed au #fanfic #fanfiction #shadowpeach #oh boy is there shadowpeach #we got angst AND fluff #but mostly angst

[thepumpkinthingart]

Ok, you got me curious. What are your headcannons for Alex and Hank? -btw really nice to see new Mcsummers content-

I been waiting for this moment my whole life-

So I won't dig into the depth of too much just touch base. Cause I would love to draw for some of these and show some of these situations instead of just explain them. Also shall touch on what is happening right now in my little universe bubble.

First of-

Alex

My interpretation of Alex is sort of a mixture between the comics and the Fox movies. So this means-

Alex and Scott's parents passed away in a helicopter crash, both a young Alex and Scott had to witness the flames and put into foster care. So here is your scoop of PTSD

Alex is the older brother in my interpretation and just for a sake of some kind of timeline- Alex went into foster care, at some point the 'accident' happen and he was jailed for it. Lead into X-men first class, and then drafted. Once he was out of the military Alex comes and adopts Scott out of the foster care system. Being his baby brothers support and parental figure. During this time and bleeding into apocalypse Alex is working on college courses.

Eventually- after litteraly dying and coming back cause multiverse- Alex will end up with a PH.D in Geophysics like in the comics.

Current Alex is working on his emotions, although having tamed his flaring temper quite a bit and is much more laid back he is still working through the trauma of his parents death, Foster care system, death of his friends like Sean and Drawin, time in the military, trying to be the best brother he can he and oh- Apparently he died?! Because He did another spur of the moment decision???

In summary. Alex needs a hug.

But he shall become a Gym couch and Professor of Geophysics at Xavier's

Also hah- big gay feelings. "I died, I am some how alive- might as well confess to Bozo"

Hank

Pretty much the Hank we know from the Fox movies but touch and go on some things

He doing his best

Hank works off and on, on a permint cure. It's not something he can easily let go. Being litteraly Beast isn't exactly ideal..

Professor of Biology and Mutation research at Xavier's

Hank definitely has a thing for pretty blonds with blue eyes. Of course Raven is pretty in her normal skin as well.

The death of Raven, Alex- Jean- it's just been a lot on him and of course everyone else.

Hank especially felt some time of responsibility over Scott slightly. Alex is gone and he brought Scott here for HIS help and now were else is the kid post to go-?

Things just got worse- Peter is gone and well Charles is on the panic after what has happen so many already. Oh hey Alex and Raven are back- ALEX AND RAVEN ARE BACK-

Hank isn't good at expressing feelings- neither is Alex, but Alex is on a 'hell with it' trip and is the one to open up about his feelings for 15 dam years or- 20? Wtf is age when you been dead for a bit

Eventually it's Alex that convinces him to push aside even a temporary cure.

Both

Alex is a sap, like- sure he is crude and the worst boyfriend of all time. But he is also the sweetest and is the one talk Hank down from his panic sessions and is also the one the threaten the life of anyone who wants to comment on Hank's appearance

Alex is also the one who gets Hank to leave the mansion time to time. As much as Hank hates being in public, Alex is happy to at least convince him date nights are not the same surrounded by 100+ hormone driven mutant childern

Alex has a lot of weak moments now that he doesn't constantly hide it behind anger. But that's ok cause Hank is happy to listen and talk or even just be a comforting presence to a very hurt Havok.

Hank was more then thrilled to watch Alex finish out his degree. Alex isn't stupid, he never was. He just chooses to use his brain more then his anger now. Which Hank and Scott can not be more proud off.

Hank only has a proper bedtime because Alex will actually force him to bed or so help him-

Alex is not at all afarid of public affection, Hank suffers for it

Alrightyyyy

Hope you enjoyed my taste of some headcannons- of course I got plenty more but likeee I would love to draw some and such. I didn't really consider myself a ask blog but like--!!! I will happily do so ;; so if you got ask for them I be happy to draw it!

#alex summers #hank mccoy #mcsummers #halex #Xmen halex #Xmen #xmen dark phoenix #xmen apocalypse #headcannons #thank you so much!! #it was really cool to get a ask ;; #and I welcome more! #Most will have heart responses #scott summers #havok #beast #xmen beast #xmen Havok

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Alleyways

...I have absolutely no regrets over this. None what-so-ever and neither should anyone else because this glorious scenario was freaking fun to write. Probably even better to read, I dunno, I can never read a scenario that I’ve written again until I’ve forgotten it completely. Otherwise I start to remember the words a second before I read them and honestly it’s infuriating.

Anyways~

I hope you like the Dabi dose of today and again, sorry about the mishap! One was put in drafts by accident and this one I just forgot to press the post button until I went back to my tumblr tab to scroll through my dashboard...hahah

Whoopsie?

🥃 AO3 🥃

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 “Hey there, little cutie…what’re you doing with a guy like that huh? Why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you what a real Alpha is like!”

 .

 Dabi let out a low growl of displeasure from beside you as you walked through the dimly lit street together, his arm wrapped around your waist and keeping you close to his side; allowing you to soak up the warmth his quirk allowed him to produce.

 “You’re letting them get to you…” You trailed off softly, peeking up at your grouchy boyfriend when you felt his fingers dig into your waist and while it wasn’t painful, it certainly brought you no joy to see how upset he was getting over a few drunken morons cat-calling you.

 “Drop. It.” The words came out as an angry snarl of annoyance, not necessarily directed at you; yet at the same time, you felt the effects of your Alpha’s displeasure, a low whine spilling past your lips that still showed signs of a faint bruise. It was from Dabi’s most recent rut; he had gotten a little carried away with you and bit harder than usual. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.

 “Don’t whine at me, (Name). You know I hate walking around here with you” He spared you a quick glance, his brows furrowing when he noticed how displeased you looked with his current mood; earning a quiet click of his teeth. An upset Omega was never good, even he knew that much.

 “So, what? I’m the problem?” His eyes widened partially at your whimpered-out question, a string of uttered curses escaping him before he stopped walking to face you properly, calloused and scarred hands gripping your arms tightly.

 “Oi! That isn’t what I meant, stupid little…” He trailed off into a growl before loosening his grip on your arms, his shoulders slumping as he let go of his anger at the people that tried to take you from him; he needed to be calm to deal with you. Both of you knew that.

 “I don’t like sharing you with everyone. You’re mine. Those assholes are lucky I don’t murder them for even looking at you!” His possessive growl calmed you almost instantly, a soft snicker escaping you and while the noise settled Dabi’s fear of having to deal with an emotional Omega; he didn’t appreciate your laughter.

 “Think this is funny? Little shit” He scowled, reaching up to pinch your cheek, pulling firmly until you let out a noise of discomfort; resulting in him releasing you and moving back beside you, his arm returning to its’ place around your waist. Keeping you close.

 “…Hey, hey, if you’re getting so wound up about this, then that must mean you love me. Right? Alpha?” Your questioned received a grunt in response, the two of you slowly making your way through the almost empty street; the few people that were around, staring directly at you with looks you recognised from before Dabi had claimed you as his Omega.

 .

 “If even a single one of those fuckers says anything to you, fucking anything, I’ll burn them alive…”

 .

 You snapped your head up quickly at his words, surprised at the vicious promise behind them; your Alpha was a strange one. He wasn’t overly kind, nor was he a good person, but you found that he took good care of you, as best he could really and every time he threatened such a degree of violence; it sent shivers down your spine. You did love when your Alpha used his quirk for you, there was nothing better in your mind; his greatest show of love was slaughtering people that he decided weren’t good enough to even look at you.

 “Alpha~” You purred out the word softly, leaning into his side heavily while your hand went to his stomach, nails dragging over his muscles through the thin white shirt he had chosen to wear for your stroll throughout the neighbourhood.

 He opened his mouth to respond to you as he turned his head to look down, but the moment he looked into your eyes, the words appeared to have escaped him. Instead, they were replaced with a deep, rumble of a growl that you hadn’t heard outside of the safety of your small apartment before; a growl that meant you were about to have his knot buried inside of you.

 “Seriously?” Your head bobbed up and down in confirmation the instant the question left your Alpha’s mouth, causing an eager grin to tug at the corners of his lips; it appeared as though your Alpha wasn’t against the less-than-subtle hint that you had given him.

 “Such a naughty little thing you are…come on baby, you want my cock? You’re gonna fucking get it.” His words were a hushed promise as he tightened his hold on your waist, practically dragging you over to a nearby alleyway, not a care in the world that the two of you were in a public place; in fact, it almost felt like this was Dabi’s own way of telling the other Alphas where to shove their offers.

 “Is that a promise, Alpha?” You squealed when Dabi dropped his hand to slap your arse roughly, causing you to stumble into the wall he was about to fuck you against, the sound echoing down the empty little spot he had chosen; a reaction he seemed to appreciate, if his hungry stare was anything to go off of.

 “You know damned well that it is…now lift that fucking dress for me if you’re really that desperate for my knot” Your cheeks flushed in response to his demand, hands moving to tug at the edge of your dress; it hadn’t been the best choice for the walk, considering how cold it was currently. However, it was working out for you currently.

 You jolted in surprise when you felt a weight on your shoulders, looking back to see that Dabi had dropped his jacket over your shoulders, his scent enveloping you almost instantly and causing slick to start dripping down your folds.

 “Keep it on” His words were a quiet, concerned instruction while his hands went to your arse, squeezing until you spread your legs for him as best you could, giving a cheeky little wiggle until he slapped you once again; a soft noise of pleasure slipping out. Though Dabi had heard it loud and clear, the sound making him grind himself up against you through his pants; his erection made painfully clear.

 “Alpha…don’t tease me? Please…” Your whimper had him chuckling while he buried his head into the crook of your neck, his hands moving from your arse to deal with his pants; adjusting them just enough so that his aching cock was free and rubbing against you. Your panties were now the only thing keeping him from fucking you senseless and in that moment, you absolutely hated yourself for wearing them. Unnecessary things that they were.

 .

 “Are you beggin’ already?”

 .

 You huffed in response, pushing yourself back against him firmly in order to show your annoyance with him; a soft squeak echoing around the area when he tore your panties away from your body, allowing him to properly rub against you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your folds, nudging and rubbing just enough to let you know he was there but certainly not enough to satisfy you and your needs.

 “Dabi, come on…that isn’t fu-” His hand covered your mouth while his other arm went around your waist, pressing you further into the wall as he began to bite at your neck; the parts he could access since his jacket was partially in the way.

 “Shut up. You don’t get to tell me how to fuck you, (Name). You get what you’re given and you’ll fucking take it like a good Omega” He buried himself inside of you once he made his point, causing you to arch your back, a moan of relief muffled by his warm hand; preventing anyone else from hearing the noises that your Alpha refused to share.

 “That’s better…fuck, that’s it, move your hips like that baby…make your Alpha happy” Dabi groaned quiet praise into your ear while he rocked his hips, trying his best not to completely lose his control with you. As much as he wanted to do such a thing, if he were to lose control out in the open like this, it might cause problems for the both of you and Dabi preferred to avoid that kind of situation.

 You whimpered into his hand, grinding your hips back against him each chance you got, the feel of his not yet inflated knot against your folds driving you insane; you knew how good his knot felt and it was hard to resist the urge to sink yourself back onto it. The only problem with that plan, being that if you did dare to do such a thing; he would punish you for it.

 Dabi liked his control over you, disobeying the unspoken rules between the two of you wouldn’t end well.

 .

 “Shh, I know baby. Believe me, I know how bad you want my knot…but you need to be a good girl, otherwise your next heat is going to be a hard one”

 .

 Your entire body shuddered from the warning he gave you, muffled moans beginning to grow louder as his control began to slip, his thrusts and bites getting rougher with each passing minute that he fucked you in the alleyway. He was finding it to be an impossible task, holding back with you when your body was so inviting; welcoming every little thing he did to you.

 “Shit…shit, damn it!” Dabi cursed out loudly as he began to bite at the bonding mark you wore proudly on your neck, the sensitive and bruised flesh an instinctive target for his little shows of affection; alerting you to how agitated he was beginning to get.

 “Fuck it. I’ll just fucking kill anyone that tries to fuck with us when I’m stuck inside you” Dabi groaned out his resolution before removing himself from your body, quickly spinning you around to face him before suddenly, you were lifted into his arms, legs going around his waist and your back slammed up against the brick wall you had just been pressed up against; his throbbing cock buried inside of you once again.

 “I want to hear you baby girl. Moan for me, scream for me!” He snarled out his demand as he pressed his face against your chest, his teeth surprisingly sharp despite the material of your dress getting in the way of his bites; making you cry out loudly from all the pleasure he was showering you with.

 “Dabi…Alpha! More, I want more…please!” You whined out loudly as he continued to thrust his hips, his hands remaining on your arse so that he could keep a steady pace; though his grip was tight enough to leave you whining in need. It was times like this you loved being with someone that had no morals, your Alpha didn’t care that he was fucking you where other people could hear and smell what you were doing, the only thing he was paying attention to; was the way you felt wrapped around his aching cock.

 “Fucking hell…you’re such a greedy little Omega!” Dabi groaned out a laugh, throwing his head back as he pushed his knot inside of you, your loud shout of bliss music to his ears, he would never admit it sober; but he loved your reactions to his touches.

 You weren’t like other Omegas that he had fucked, you weren’t just after your own pleasure, you weren’t just an easy slut. He had to work his arse off just to get in bed with you in the beginning and when he finally managed to, well he had been shocked to find out that you could take everything he had to give.

 You were his perfect match and he had kept you ever since.

 .

 “Louder baby, I want the entire block to know whose cock is making you feel this good!”

 .

 You screamed out his name in response, baring your throat to him in submission while he continued to fuck you senseless; his knot throbbing and growing bigger as time passed, signalling that your Alpha was close to finishing. Just like you were. You could feel the familiar warmth beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, the pleasure rocking through your body; it was too much, having Dabi fuck you like this with the knowledge that everyone knew what you were doing but no one would be stupid enough to interrupt the two of you.

 “That’s it…close, aren’t you? Squeezing down on me like that already? Is it that good a fuck, baby? Can’t keep up tonight?” You narrowed your eyes at his groaned-out taunts, tangling your fingers into his dark locks while your orgasm got closer and closer; you weren’t in the mood for him to be a complete asshole to you and you were about to make that clear.

 “Just…shut up and knot me, Dabi! I wanna go home and nest…” You whimpered out, squeezing your eyes shut tightly while giving a harsh tug to his hair, screaming out his name when your orgasm finally hit; his knot swelling up inside of you once you started to squeeze down on him even more, his hot, thick seed filling you in a sudden rush.

 Dabi bit down on your bonding mark roughly, chewing on the spot while rocking his hips as best he could while stuck buried balls deep inside of you, his mind slowly processing the words you had uttered.

 .

 “Nest…? Are you going into heat baby? Fuck…don’t worry, I’ll get you home soon. You can get nice and comfy so I can fill you up even more.”

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #touya x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #reader x dabi #reader x touya #reader x todoroki #omegaverse #alpha!dabi #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #smut #requests #cheeky kitsune