#refuse to go to the writing center and get help or whatever the fuck. and i struggle to write papers in academic voice (though not visibly t

[pepprs]

and ithink that makes me. A bad person and/or bad at my job btw. like how can i so loudly refuse to learn and complain about learning and yet be an ambassador for / cocreator of a thriving denoceacynwhen learning is at the core of it. and when i literaly work in education and am a teacher or some shit. idk.

#purrs #i don’t even know how to articulate my thoughts. which is the problem. i used to be good at things like this but in the last few years i #just… struggle to read and write in ways that are understood by other people. like scholarly ways 💀 LOL. i don’t understand my readings but #refuse to go to the writing center and get help or whatever the fuck. and i struggle to write papers in academic voice (though not visibly t #to my professors apparently). idk. i just am so miserable. it doesn’t work for my brain. i did this to myself and i don’t have to be but i #have to be because i can’t bear being small and left behind. i don’t know. when i get like this which is all the time i can’t explain #anything well. i don’t want to read these chapters even though they’re important i want to play video games and rest. and i want to learn #about these thi ng s by doing them and experiencing them and not having to take them home and have it cut into my precious free time. godddd #but like would someone who is truly a champion of this kind of thing… feel that way. like shouldn’t i want to read shit like this and be s #seeking it out myself. idk. my brain is full of mental illness spikes rn and i have to push through it and just do the damn assignment #delete later

[deadmeat666]

ATHLETE BOYFRIENDS. sakusa kiyoomi x top male reader

This is kinda self-indulgent. Reader is a takraw player. Search it up if you don't know what takraw is.

minors, fujoshis and blank blogs DNI. i will find your home.

It's a habit of yours to climb though his window, even before dating him. You don't care what time it is, the weather, the situation. As long as you get to see him.

Though he insisted you to go through the front door instead—which is obviously more convenient and unconventional, but you refused. For whatever reason that is still unknown to him till this day. But he digressed. It wasn't much of a big deal, though the first time you climbed through his window, the neighbor almost called the cops.

Most of the times, your reason for climbing through his window was...Nothing! It was simply because you wanted to see him. You only live a few blocks away from him but that's considered hundreds of mile for you. He'd always pretend to be annoyed and pouty from your attention, but deep down, he knows some of your visits can mean something else. Something that'd leave his puffy pink hole stuffed full of your cum.

Sakusa was tall, you were only a few inches taller than him, but so much bigger and thicker in terms of muscles and your other asset too. Kiyoomi can't help but feel so so tiny under you, writhing, struggling, letting out choked out moans as you continue to knock him up.

Sakusa knew you were a huge. You're a sport player, not a volleyball player, but you played a sport similar to it, just with your legs.

He loves seeing you hoisting up your thick leg into a position to kick back the rattan ball back to the opposing team's court. He loves seeing how your shorts would ride up a bit, showing more of those meaty thighs. And he loves seeing how you're always riled up, predatory when on court, also in bed. Or anywhere when you're feeling horny for that matter and would completely forgetting or simply ignoring his whole mysophobia facade he'd keep up when you fuck in a stadium's toilet stall.

But his favorite huge thing about you is the monster of a cock that'd rest in-between your legs. He'd always wonder how you even managed to fit it in your underwear..barely. When you're on the court, you'd always be the center of almost everyone's attention. One because you're extremely good. Two, they'd be focusing on that huge dick of yours, and maybe even your whole body. And you swore you felt everyone's eyes on you one time.

When you win a game, you'd be rewarded with a good, balls deep blowjob by him in a locker room. And when your team lose, you'd still be rewarded with a good, reverse cowgirl riding by him, giving you a nice view of his plush ass bouncing against your pelvis.

One thing for sure, he can't get enough of you.

This was rushed, but I wanted to write something :)

#DEADMEAT WRITES #top male reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x male reader #sub haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #haikyuu sakusa #msby #dom male reader #male reader #x male reader #seme male reader

[pink-apollo]

Hey, im wondering if could u do a headcanon about simon "👻" riley, where his/their (idk man🥹) partner is touchy? Like their love language is physical touch. How would it work out -if it would eventually work out! Could the partner be afab (cause boobs🤤), or wait idek, actually its up to u, write with whatever youre comfortable with. Hope it was understandable, even tho its a fucking big mess but whatever. Lova ya💘

Simon with s/o that loves physical touch

Foap…

♥️Honestly though, I headcanon Simon to really love touching and cuddling! Any physical form of contact for Simon grounds him, and helps to center his thoughts when he’s over stimulated with work and can’t seem to calm down regardless of trying many things. He doesn’t want to bother nor concern yourself with the things he’s dealing with, but for some reason your touch just seems to do wonders for him

♥️Prefers though to keep it on the down low in public but will gladly let you do whatever to him in private because he knows that’s where you’re the most safe. But also because he’s not used to having be shown affection in public

♥️If you do have breasts and push them up against him, Simone will get somewhat a little antsy. He knows that you didn’t intend to do so and that you just wanted to hold his face close to your chest. Tries so hard no to stare and closes his eyes instead

♥️Appreciates that you take initiative considering he can be a little awkward with asking to cuddle or even coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you. He knows he isn’t a bother and that you would gladly let him do anything, but wants you to come to him to be sure this is what you want

♥️Once you’re snuggled together on the couch or bed, he’s got an iron grip on you and refuses to let you go. Loves when you put all your weight on him, you’re like his own little weighted blanket!! Which are actually proven to help with anxiety and for better sleep!

♥️Adores that you must always hold his hand when you’re out of the house. Smiles so hard when you lock pinkies together. It’s cliche but it’s something that gets to him. Something so innocent and something for once good in his life. Can’t help but to think of you when he sees people lock their pinkies or pinky promise

♥️Never pushes you away when you go to grab his face and pull him down for a kiss. Even a gentle tug on his dog tags is enough to indicate a kiss which he’s always happy to oblige

♥️Actually looks forward to your touches when he’s coming home. Being so far apart for weeks and months on end drives him up the wall. Not feeling your warm embrace when he goes to bed upsets him more than he actually lets on. Just wants to pick you up and hold you close for as long as he can

#cod #mw2 #ask #headcanons #x reader #modern warfare2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon riley x reader

[joshsindigostreak]

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter Eight

“I’m so heavy in your arms.”

Josh Kiszka x Vampire!Reader

Authors Note: Helloooooooo! This has always been the chapter I’ve been wanting to write from the beginning, and I can’t wait to share it with y’all! Please give me your feedback after you’ve read it! I love hearing y’all’s thoughts. Also keep your eyes peeled because there are hints at Sam’s story and Danny’s story towards the end! (Ideally I want all four of them to get their own story in this universe ❤️) Onward!

Word Count: 6,714

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of blood. This one is SAD y’all so bring the tissues. No smut in this chapter.

The ride to Dimitri’s manor was a quiet one. Josh sat close to you in the back seat, never taking his eyes off the two men up front. One hand was resting on your thigh, the other was holding your other hand in his lap. It didn’t take a Vampire to feel how fast your pulse was racing, or how your anxiety was so high you were completely silent. His thumbs rubbed comforting circles wherever they could reach, trying to calm you down. Despite your hunter’s efforts, your mind would not stop circling the drain with every worst case scenario. You were dead. Truly dead. Josh will be too. Dimitri knows. He knows you committed high treason against your own kind. Monica was right, they’d have you Meet the Sun for this. 

You had seen first hand over the decades what Dimitri did to traitors. He wasn’t flashy about it, having an audience was never the point. But he always made sure to hit where hurt the most. Right now? That place was Josh himself, and you knew that Dimitri knew that. You were so fucking stupid, of course he would see through that entire sham at the Den. 

The black SUV you were traveling in took a sharp left turn, swiftly taking you out of the city. Even though Dimitri was at the Den most nights, his actual residence was far out of town. He preferred to spend his nights off away from the hustle and bustle, in his sprawling estate that few had seen in person, and even fewer had lived to tell about it. 

Another turn, this time onto a side road that wound itself through the forest. The trees swallowed any lingering light from the city, leaving the SUV in its own bubble. The road narrowed the further you went, and started to incline. It wasn’t very mountainous outside of the city, but there were plenty of hills. Steep ones, with plenty of cliffs tall enough to get the job done. Your body didn’t produce bile the way humans did, but you swallowed whatever you had in your throat that threatened to bubble up into your mouth. 

Josh, in the way he knew best, tried whispering comforts in your ear, which you faintly heard through the roaring in your ears. You felt his lips caress your ear as he spoke, those plush, perfect lips that mere hours ago were claiming you as his. You tried to remember the last kiss you had shared with him in your bed. A soft but secure kiss before you slumbered in  his arms. You closed your eyes and melted into him, tempted to take off the seatbelt and crawl in his lap for the remainder of the drive. He peppered kisses into your hair and on your cheek, trying to find something that calmed your fears. 

The narrow road suddenly opened up into a sprawling driveway, a semi-circle pavement monstrosity complete with an obnoxious fountain in the center that the SUV peeled around. Of course Dimitri would be the only address on this road. The literal end of the line. The vehicle lurched to a halt before the driver shut it off and calmly exited. The door to the right of Josh was yanked open, and both of the men were standing on either side, waiting for you to exit. Josh laced his fingers in yours before getting out first and helping you out. He refused to let go of your hand for a second. 

The chilly night air nipped at your legs as you gazed upon the impressive manor. It consisted of  three floors above ground, but you recalled rumors of an extensive basement system down below. 

The Gothic architecture was almost too on the nose, something that Josh whispered in your ear, “the only thing he’s missing is a giant neon sign that says ‘a vampire lives here’ with a massive arrow pointing to the house.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling, “he really leans into the stereotypes…” 

The feeling of normalcy between you two was short lived, as the two henchmen ushered you up the stone steps leading into the manor. You weren’t a runner, but the fight or flight response was nearly impossible to ignore at this point. A simple squeeze of your hand by Josh brought you back to reality. The heavy wooden door was pulled open by one of the men, his hand gesturing for you two to enter. Because a Vampire owned this house, formal invitations weren’t necessary. Josh entered just a step ahead of you, preparing to get in the way of anything that could potentially attack. 

However, the two of you were met to an empty foyer that opened up to a grand entrance hall. The hall was flanked by two massive identical staircases that mirrored each other and met at a shared landing high above you. The room was lit with flickering lights that mimicked candlelight, another way Dimitri stayed on theme. 

The front door closed loudly behind you, leaving you alone and in complete silence. You heard familiar classical music being played down one of the halls, but you didn’t have much time to figure out exactly where when you heard the tapping of footsteps marching towards you. Within seconds, a Vampire in his fifties appeared at the bottom of the stairs, staring at you both with an unreadable expression. You could feel Josh jump a little at his sudden appearance, as most humans weren’t used to the fact that sometimes Vampires just…appeared at times. This habit along with the super speed was what started the false rumor that Vampires could teleport within shadow. 

It took you a second to recognize him but it dawned on you, “it's been a long time, Phillip.” 

The Vampire grimaced at your words, as he had never been very fond of you, “Dimitris would like to see you both in his study.” 

You kept your gaze steady, not wanting Phillip of all Vampires to see you nervous, “lead the way.” 

With a slight huff Phillip turned on his heel and led the two of you down the main hall to the right. As you walked, the sound of classical music met your ears, letting you know you were close. With Phillips walking in front, you took your chance and slid your hand into Josh’s with a firm grip. He squeezed back, and ran his thumb up and down the side of your hand. Phillip took a sharp left turn down a dimly lit corridor and the music grew louder. Ahead of him you could see flickering light pouring out of an open doorway. This was it. 

He stopped in front of the door and ushered the two of you inside, where you found Dimitri lounging on a Victorian couch. He was staring into the roaring fire, his expression unreadable. 

Dimitri briefly looked up to acknowledge your presence before sitting up straighter and squaring his shoulders, “ Leave us, Phillip. I wish to speak with them alone.” Phillip gave a curt nod before disappearing down the dark corridor. Dimitri gestured to the identical couch across from his, offering you and Josh a seat. His eyes were fixed on your joined hands as you sat down. 

“Always a pleasure, darling.” You nodded, words failing you. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here. I apologize for the short notice but…the matter could not wait.” He smiled softly at you, continuing to study you both. “I feel we shouldn’t beat around the bush and get directly to the matter at hand.”

You gulped and didn’t care if he saw it or not.

“How long have you known, Mr. Kiszka here?” You knew it was coming, but him saying Josh’s name made your blood run cold. Before you could answer he said, “you almost had me with that fake name at the Den…but when I tasted his blood I knew right away who he was. Well, what family he came from, at least.”

“How-,” Josh interjected. 

“Oh my dear Joshua, your great-grandfather’s blood tasted very similar,” he said matter-of-fact. Josh glared at the Vampire as his hand tensed in yours and you felt his whole body become rigid. “I’ve come across your family many times, but I’ve always eluded them of course,” a cool smile spread across his face. “Which is why it was so…interesting of you, darling, to bring one of them into my Blood Den under a false identity. I would even venture to say it was out of character.” 

“Dimitri I-”

The older Vampire wasn’t finished, “however, it might surprise you to know I had no intention of doing anything about your little…indiscretion…for the time being. In fact I fully planned to merely observe how many times you’d bring your little hunter friend amongst us Vampires. Now, the real plot twist was you feeding on him the other night. That I did not expect at all. But the best part was that little Joshua here was enjoying it…” He smirked at Josh, who continued to glare at him.

You tried to keep your voice steady, “but if you weren’t going to do anything about it, then why are we here?”

Dimitri nodded and leaned forward, “yes the wrinkle in all of this was that someone went behind my back to the Council and told them everything.”

“Who the fuck-,” you started.

“You’ve probably noticed that Yvonne isn’t here tonight? Well, it seems someone got a little impatient in my promise to eventually turn her and she tried using this delicious piece of information to hopefully convince a member of,” he stopped to chuckle lightly and pinch the bridge of his nose, “the Council of all groups to turn her instead.” 

Your eyes widened at the stupidity, there was no way the Council would turn a human for this. They were even more selective than Dimitri when it came to creating new Vampires. Yvonne had to be extremely desperate, stupid, or both to pull this move. 

“I mean maybe it's my fault for keeping her around for nearly a decade on the promise of turning her? Humans are such impatient creatures,” he flicked his eyes back at Josh, “no offense.” 

“What did the Council say to all of this?”

“You’re both in luck that I have a few friends on the Council that came directly to me with Yvonne’s betrayal, and thus a warning as to what they said to do about it.”

It was a good thing you were already sitting down, but Dimitri’s habit of drawing things out was making your anxiety so much worse. 

“The first thing they did was tell me who the informant was. Yvonne was…quickly dealt with,” his voice trailed off, but you knew better than to ask the how and what about that situation, “and after that, they gave us a few options going forward.” 

You could feel your hunter's hand going clammy, and his heartbeat could be heard over the crackling fire. 

“The first option, and the one they wanted the most, was for you to Meet the Sun, darling,” for the first time in decades, you saw sadness creep into his eyes, “the second option of course, was just to flat out kill our dear Joshua. Both options had the obvious caveat of having you watch each other’s death. Which would then lead to the death of the one watching. So essentially it was more of a ‘who first’ matter.”

“Oh…,” it was all you could say. It was what you were fearing, but finally hearing Dimitri say it out loud made your vision blur and your knees shake. 

“But,” Dimitri sat back against the couch, a satisfied grin replaced the sadness, “I had an even more poetic idea.”

“What could be more ‘poetic’ than that?” The sarcasm dripped from Josh’s voice. 

Dimitri held his hands out, palms facing the two of you, as if he was telling you to brace yourselves, “why, stripping the Vampire Hunter’s humanity away, of course!” 

“What,” you squeaked out. 

“...and as a cherry on top, having you be the one to turn him!”

Your ears started ringing, “excuse me?”

“Oh think about it, darling. Turning not just any human, but a Kiszka? Do you know how many Vampire’s have tried to do that very thing and failed?”

“I can think of a few,” Josh deadpanned.

Dimitri gave Josh a look but continued, “you see, the worst way to insult a hunter, especially one from a family line,  isn’t to kill them. Hunters love dying for the cause. No no, it's turning one. Why? Well darling I don’t know if your little friend here has told you, but they view being turned as a fate worse than death. In fact, they even view the mere suggestion of allowing a hunter-turned-vampire to exist as a walking advert of their failures. Isn’t that right, dear Joshua?” 

Josh stilled next to you. It was true.

“Nothing worse than the hunter becoming the hunted, eh,” the older Vampire said with raised eyebrows. 

You had to be hallucinating. This was all some wild nightmare you were having. Any second now you’d wake up in Josh’s arms, safely shielded by the sun in your bed. You dropped your face into your hands, rubbing your eyes but when you opened them you were still sitting in Dimitri’s cliched study. 

“And if we don’t take that option,” you asked, still not believing what you were hearing.

Dimitri’s expression grew serious, “then as I said before, it would only be a matter of…who goes first.” 

Josh stared at the ornate rug under his feet. The thought of you burning from the sun again made him nauseous. He could still hear how your skin sizzled and cracked open, the gasps of pain and the whimpers you tried to hide. The thought of you being held out in the open, more than likely in front of an audience, while you slowly burned to death, especially because of him, made the bile rise in his throat. The dream that he had had the first time he slept next to you invaded his mind, and he visibly shuddered. But on the other hand…if he agreed to this, to being turned, how would he tell Jake? Or Sam? What would he say to them? 

“...and there’s really no other way?” Josh asked the obvious, but he needed to express it out loud. 

Dimitri shook his head, “if I don’t give the Council a decision they’ll make one themselves, and I can promise that you don’t want it to get to that.” 

Josh nodded his head, the skin on the back of his neck prickled hot, and he swallowed hard, “fine.” 

You snapped your head to your left to look at him, “what do you mean, ‘fine’?”

“Turn me,” he slowly swiveled his gaze, meeting your eyes for a second before looking back at Dimitri, “I want her to do it, no one else.” 

Dimitri sat back with a satisfied smile, “I knew you were smart, dear Joshua. She must mean a lot to you in order to give up your humanity like this.” 

You stared at your hunter, tears filling your eyes, “no…” Painfully, a memory surfaced in your mind, from that first night in the Den. The brief banter you exchanged while you were explaining your favorite cocktail to him.

“A-Negative pairs really well with whiskey. Robust but not overpowering, gives you a great buzz. It's a shame you can’t find that out for yourself with your…humanity and all.” 

Josh gave you a flat look, “I like my humanity just fine.”

“Suit yourself…though a hunter turned Vampire would be hilariously ironic.”

It was just a joke on your end, something silly to loosen him up, but now the words burned in your throat. 

“You’re not dying because of me,” his words shook you from your thoughts. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for…”

“Out of our options…this is our only option, sweetheart.” 

“I’ve never…I’ve never turned someone…” 

“But you know how, darling, you know the procedure,” Dimitri offered from his couch.

You turned to look at the older Vampire, “and you’re ok with this? Turning someone new?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it to the Council if I wasn’t. Plus, imagine the business it would bring to the Dens I have? You two making an appearance? Think about it, the hunter who was willing to be turned to save a Vampire? And you, darling, the Vampire who tempted a hunter to want to be turned? You, turned a Kiszka? Vampires and their Human Companions would be flocking to get a glimpse of you. It would…add to the fantasy of theirs,” Dimitri couldn’t contain his excitement at the possibilities. 

“Fantasy,” you questioned. 

“Well, the human fantasy of one day…following in your footsteps…,” Dimitri countered. 

Having heard enough, you turned back to Josh, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” he made sure to look you in the eyes as he said it. He reached out, collecting your hands into his, driving home the fact he was serious. You instantly tangled your fingers around his, gripping him nearly too tight, but you needed to ground yourself. 

“Wonderful,” you vaguely registered the excitement emanating from Dimitri as he sprang to his feet, “now, I had a feeling this would be the decision and I already had a room upstairs ready for you both. Anything you need, darling, and it's yours.” 

You nodded numbly, not wanting to take your eyes off of Josh. Your chest didn’t know whether to heave or to cave in on itself. It was too much, it was all too much at one time. You tried to travel back in your mind to this morning, with Josh hovering above you in your bed. The last time things felt normal with him. The way the wall sconces scattered light through his curly hair, the heat of his skin against yours, the kisses he left all over your nose and cheeks, he was your gentle daylight. Your gentle daylight that you were cursing into never seeing the sun again. 

Before you knew it, Dimitri stood before you both with a warm smile not seen by many people. 

“Come on, I’ll show you to the room myself,” he offered, hand stretched out to the door. 

Josh was the first to stand up, his hands still clinging to yours as you left your seat. The both of you silently followed Dimitri out of the study, barely paying attention to where you were going. He led you down the corridor and up one flight of stairs and then another. Why he chose the third floor for this bewildered you, but knowing Dimitri there was a reason. The thick mahogany door was already open, and inside there was a large bed in the corner, flanked by two night stands. A chaise lounge was across the room, accompanied by an antique coffee table in front of it. On both the coffee table and the night stands were stacks of towels and rags, presumably for any spilled blood. But in the far corner of the room, was a bay window that let you know you were in one of the turret rooms. Underneath the windows were bench seats built into the wall. 

Dimitri held up a small remote before placing it on the nightstand, “the sun will be up soon, so when you need the shutters you’ll have them.” Of course Dimitri would put sun-blocking shields on his windows. You don’t live as long as he had without crossing all your t’s and dotting all your i’s. 

“I umm…I have to call my brothers…,” Josh nearly stuttered out, looking at Dimitri. 

He looked skeptical at first but his expression softened, “very well, but if you attempt to bring the calvary here to save you, I can assure you it won’t end well for anyone involved.” 

With a deep inhale through his nose, Josh nodded, “understood.” 

Dimitri turned to you, “as I said in the study, anything you need, darling, and I’ll get it here. I have staff just outside the door, waiting for you.” 

“Th-thank you, Dimitri…,” you were still overwhelmed, the situation slowly sinking in.

“I’ll leave you to it then, I trust you know what to do,” his hand extended to your shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. You nodded in response, and he quickly left the room, shutting the heavy door behind him. The loud click of the lock nearly echoed, reminding you this was your only path forward. 

“I ruined your life…,” you whispered as you sat on the couch. 

Josh was still standing in the middle of the room, staring off into space deep in thought, but your words snapped him out of it and he turned his head to you, “no you didn’t.” 

“It was my idea to bring you to the Den, it was my idea to ‘team up’ it was-”

In three strides he was beside you on that couch, cupping your face in his hands, “and I agreed every single time, and made the choice to go with you.”

 

You couldn’t stop the tears spilling down your cheeks, and his thumbs dutifully wiped each one away, “if we do this, you won’t be able to go back to your family. At least, I don’t know how they’d react-”

Josh sniffed, “I’m going to call Jake and Sam before anything happens…I don’t…I don’t know what I’m going to say but I have to let them know it’ll be awhile before I come back home.” He was trying so hard to be strong in your presence, to not let the situation get to him, but his hands shook against your cheeks, and he struggled to get his words out. 

“There’s something else, Josh,” he looked at you in confusion, “not every- not everyone who gets turned takes to their new existence well. It's not something one can predict beforehand, it's almost random in how new Vampire’s navigate the world.”

“You turned out fine,” he countered.

“Barely. Remember when I told you that the first decade was rough? I meant that. I wasn’t taught skills or control because my Maker-”

“Then I will be lucky to have a Maker as thoughtful as you to teach me how to correctly survive.” His eyes never left yours and his thumbs never stopped rubbing your cheeks. 

You wanted to smile at his confidence, but you needed to voice the elephant in the room, “Vampires like Ethan aren’t exactly…rare either…”

He understood what you were trying to say, “if I end up like Ethan…I’ll need you and Jake to do the right thing…” 

This made you crumble even more, “I’m not strong enough to do that…” 

His face got even more serious, “yes you are, and don’t forget that. I’m going to go call my brothers…and then we can get started, ok?”

With a shaky breath, you nodded. His hands left your face, and you deflated a little from the loss. He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed as he stood up, making his way to the bay window and looking out into the night. The moon was full, but low in the sky, indicating that the sunrise was closer than he thought. 

After three rings, Jake picked up, “do you know what time it is? Some of us like sleeping at night.” The watery breath Josh exhaled into the speaker made every alarm bell go off in Jake’s head, “what's wrong? Did something happen?”

“No…but, well yes, but not what you think.”

“Josh, what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“We got caught, Jake. They umm…they figured out who I was and we were both brought in-”

“Brought in where?” Josh could hear rustling on the other end of the phone, indicating Jake was sitting up on the air mattress. 

“Just…some high level Vamps gave us an ultimatum and I took it.”

“Not their stupid fucking Council? Those fucking ghouls. What was the ultimatum?”

This was it, he had to tell him, “...that if I don’t want to be killed…I have to be turned…”

There was a deafening silence on the other end of the line, with only a gruff, “are you fucking kidding me,” to cut through it. 

“Turn your location on, I'll come get you.”

Josh looked up at the ceiling, eyes watery, “you can’t do that, man.” 

“The fuck you mean I can’t? I’ve gotten you out of worse.”

“They’ll kill you on the spot, and trust me the place I’m at has the muscle to even take you down.”

Another long silence, “...so you’re just going to roll over and let them turn you into one of those things? ‘Cause from how I see it, you’re getting killed either way.”

“Jake-”

“You’ll have to watch me get older than you and eventually-” his tone was becoming frantic. 

“We’re not going to think about that right now. This is my only chance. I’ll be…different but I’ll still be here.” 

“Who's doing it?” Now it was Josh’s turn to not speak, “oh how fucking poetic. They’re having her do it?! I knew it. I fucking knew it. You don’t think this was her plan all along?” 

Josh looked at you over his shoulder, you were still sitting on the couch with your hands in your lap. Because of your hearing, you were able to hear everything Jake said, and that last accusation made a fresh batch of tears roll down your face. 

He turned back around, beginning to get pissed off, “I can promise you it wasn’t.” 

After a few heavy breaths into the phone, Jake said, “...when is it happening?”

“Tonight.”

“I just…I don’t know what to say.”

“Me either, honestly.” 

“Mom and dad…wait, have you called Sammy?”

“No not yet, I was about to.”

“Please make sure you do, I don’t want him hearing about this second hand from anyone. You know how he gets....”

Josh nodded, “I know…”

“After you…afterwards…then what?”

Josh shrugged, “they made it sound like I was basically free to go afterwards…that my ‘new existence’ would be punishment enough.”

Jake revisited the same thoughts Josh had had downstairs in the study. Hunters viewed being turned as the ultimate failure, a spit in the face of their life's work. Turning Josh would definitely make a statement, and a warning, to the entire hunter community. 

Jake turned the phone to hide the sniff he made, but Josh heard it anyway, “I need you to come back as soon as you can, got it?”

“I will, I just…can’t promise you when that’ll be.” 

“Just promise me you’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

“I’m not saying ‘goodbye’ either, I can’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Josh sniffed again.

“Call Sammy,” was all Jake said before he hung up. Josh knew he didn’t hang up to be rude, but he knew his twin couldn’t handle this information. He instantly dialed Sam’s number, but it kept going to voicemail. He called him five more times, before sighing in defeat and settling for a voicemail. He felt horrible that he had to leave it at that, but it didn’t seem like Sam was anywhere near his phone. He glanced at the sky, noting the full moon again. This also meant that Sam’s best friend, Danny, wasn’t able to be reached tonight either. Fuck. The phone beeped and he began his little speech, mumbling his way through it but trying his best to sound strong for his younger brother. Eventually he hung up and turned back to you.

“So…how does this happen?”

You gulped and stood up, walking over to him, “I umm…I have to d-drain you…completely, and when you’re at the brink of d-death, you drink my blood.”

Josh nodded, “and then?”

“You’ll fall asleep, and you’ll stay asleep for at least a few days. It differs from person to person. I was out for at least two nights. And even after that it's common to sleep a lot those first few weeks as your body changes and adjusts.” You reached up and cradled his jaw, “but don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere. You’re not leaving my sight the entire time.” 

Overwhelmed by it all, Josh crashed his lips into yours, needing something to ground himself. You kissed him back, pouring every bit of emotion you could into it. 

Eventually he pulled back just enough to say, “how do you want to do it?” 

“Any way you want, honestly,” you looked over at the bed, “the bed would be the most comfortable.”

He nodded, “ok then, the bed it is.” He walked over and stripped off his shirt and shorts, leaving himself in his underwear as he started turning down the thick covers. He wasn’t sure how much blood there would be, but if the amount of towels on the nightstand and coffee table were any indication, it wasn’t going to be a ‘clean’ process. 

Following his lead, you took your own shirt off and shimmied off your leggings, leaving yourself in your underwear and a random sports bra you found in your drawer. As you stood next to him, you realized both of you were a little stumped as to what to do next. Obviously knew what to do, but going about it was the question. 

While you pondered you glanced up at your hunter, and noted all of his earrings, “are those silver?” 

He nodded and then it dawned on him, “oh…I’ll have to take them out won’t I?”

“Yeah…but I can get you new ones. The holes won’t close up during…it all.”

Josh was a bit surprised, “really?” 

“Its weird I know but for some reason most piercings stay-”

“No I meant…you don’t have to get me new ones.” 

“Oh but I want to, they look so good on you,” finally, a genuine smile slid across your face. 

Josh started taking them out one by one and placing them on the nightstand. The second you smiled he relaxed a lot more. He needed normalcy. 

Wanting to keep the mood light, you reached up and gently touched the shaved sides of his head, “you’re also lucky I really like this haircut on you.” 

His eyes went wide as he dropped the last ear cuff on the wooden surface, “will it not grow back at all?”

“It will, just very slowly. Your fingernails will still grow too,” you reached out and threaded your fingers with his, another thought occurring to you, “you know…we never even really defined whatever this,” you gestured between you two, “is.” 

Josh stood there for a second, looking at you, before bringing both hands to your face and securing his lips to yours, he pulled away less than an inch from your face and said, “I think…you’re mine, and that's all that matters. Don’t you think so?”

Another real smile, this time closer to the smirk he loved so much, “mine?”

“Mine,” he whispered that word all over your face, planting soft kisses to any skin he could reach. Your arms wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer. His lips found home against yours, and for a few moments you lazily made out next to the bed. With your eyes closed, you were able to pretend for a moment you were back in his attic apartment, standing on those cold wooden floors about to be utterly taken by your lover on those god-awful plaid sheets. But as he pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, and the reality of where you were, and what you were about to do hit you again. A wave of emotion swept over you again, but you refused to let any tears fall. If you were going to be a Maker, you had to be strong for him. He needed you to be his rock right now. 

“I’m assuming the neck is the best place to umm…get it done?” 

Your eyes softened even more at him, “typically yes. The wrist is too slow and the thigh is too fast, the neck gives you the best control.” This was explained to you many times over the years by different Vampires. “I think…what would be the most comfortable, if you want, would be if I sat up against the headboard and you leaned against me?” 

“That makes sense,” he said quietly. 

You grabbed some of the towels and spread them out over the bed and pillows, just in case. When you were finished you turned back to Josh, only to find him walking towards the bay window. The sky was a soft pink, indicating the sun was rising. Carefully, you walked towards him, sticking to the shadows in the room. 

“I just…I needed to see it…” 

He didn’t need to explain himself to you, you understood. It was quite possibly the last time he’d be able to look at the sun without pain. His eyes were trained to the horizon, and as the sun greeted the new day, you finally got to see what those beautiful eyes of his looked in the sunlight. The wish you had made the night you met him in that bar. Those big brown eyes were illuminated into a molten honey color, and for once you were actually grateful for the sun to give this to you. 

He turned to you, giving you an even better view, “what?”

You shook your head from the still-shaded part of the room and smiled, “just looking at you, Boy Scout.” 

Josh gave one final look out the window, before turning away from it completely and walking over to join you in the shadow. He took your hand and led you back to the bed. You looked down at the little remote that Dimitri had left behind, and plucked it off the surface and studied it. There were only a few buttons on it, making it easy to decipher, and after hitting a few of them thick shades descended from the top of the windows, sealing them shut from the outside world. 

“Fancy…,” Josh mused as you turned on the nearest lamp. 

“He spares no expense,” you agreed as you crawled in the bed. You fluffed a few pillows behind you before fully sitting up against the headboard. Your hunter’s heartbeat sped up, you didn’t even have to try too hard to hear it. It made your own heart twinge, but you sat up a little bit more and held your hand out to him. He gladly took it as he got into the bed, turning around and leaning back against your chest. You softly brought your arms around his chest, giving him as good of a hug as you could in that position. He slowly tilted his head to the side, giving you full access to the left side of his neck. 

Your fingertips caressed his jawline while you stared down at him, “are you ready?”

“Is anyone?”

“If you need a few more minutes that's perfectly fine, Josh.”

“No no, I’m…I’m ready.” 

“Just remember, I’m not going anywhere.” He brought one of your hands to his lips and gave the back an open mouthed kiss before craning his neck and giving you one last kiss. Pulling away, he slipped back into position, and closed his eyes. 

Your fangs descended from your gums, and before you could hesitate even more, you drove them into the soft flesh of his neck. Josh flinched slightly, and you quickly gathered his hands in your free hand, letting him squeeze and cling as hard as he needed to. Your other hand continued to gently rub his jaw and cheek, comforting him as best you could. Draining someone was different from your typical feeding bite. You had to be more deliberate, with deeper pulls and less finesse. You couldn’t even enjoy the citrusy accents in his blood, or that fresh vanilla, no, you just had to get it all. 

Josh relaxed more in your arms as the draining progressed. You still paid close attention to his slowing heart rate, listening for the time you instinctively would know to give him your blood. It felt like it was taking too long and also flying by at the same time. As a Vampire, the whole process felt bizarre, but you were determined to get everything right. Your hunter deserved nothing but the best. 

~!~

Across the country, through a few different time zones, a young scholar was sitting across an icy blonde. Mounds of papers and stacks of books were scattered around the room, the only light coming from the various table lamps around the basement office. The scholar stood up to go to his other desk, and after shuffling around the stacks of documents he had been translating, he found his phone that had gone missing some hours before. The screen lit up with six missed calls from Josh, and a slew of texts from Jake telling him to pick up his phone. At the top of his notifications was a voicemail from his oldest brother. Confused, he unlocked his phone to listen to it. 

“Sam…Sammy it's Josh. I umm, I got into some trouble with this job, and I probably won’t be home for a while. I don’t need you to freak out, I’ve already talked to Jake. Call him after you get this, he’ll explain further. But umm….but basically I was given a choice. You know how Vampire’s can be…I’m sorry I’m being vague. But…I was going to be killed if I didn’t agree to…to be turned…and that's what's going to happen now. I wanted to tell you this myself, but you’re probably busy with your work. Which, sorry for always calling your college Hogwarts. You’re only one of us with any sort of degree, and I’ll always be proud of you for that. Sorry for stealing those files from you a few months ago, I’ll get them back to you, I promise. I’m not going anywhere, Sammy, but I’ll be…different from now on. But I’ll be back, it might not seem like it, I can promise you I’m in safe hands. This isn’t a goodbye, Sam, but I needed you to hear this from me before anyone else. I’m rambling now but…I love you-” 

The voicemail cut off, and Sam’s hands were shaking so bad the phone dropped onto the desk with a loud clatter, startling the blonde. 

“Sam, what is it,” she asked as she adjusted her cat eye glasses. 

He turned to her, knees suddenly weak, “I umm…I need to call Danny…I need Danny.”

She checked the time on her own phone and her heart sank, “Sam the moon is still out…”

The realization caused him to lean against the desk, and the sudden collapse had the blonde on her feet and over to him instantly. In the years she had known him she had never seen him like this, and she wondered what the hell he had heard on his phone. 

“Sam…come on Sam tell me what’s wrong,” he leaned down on her, burying his face into her shoulder. 

“I don’t know what to do…” he all but whimpered as his world as he knew it shattered. 

~!~

Josh’s heart rate was slow, so slow now, you knew it was time. Reluctantly you drew your hand out of his as you removed your fangs from his neck. Quickly you bit into your wrist, drawing blood and using your other hand to open his mouth. Your wrist rested against his lips as you made sure to drip as much of your blood as you could into his system. You began to worry when he didn’t react to the blood, but within seconds you felt his lips seal against your wrist, and you felt him pull from you. Relief flooded through you and you whispered praises into his ear. You weren’t sure if he could hear you, but for both of your sakes you hoped he did. 

He started to relax again, and you knew he was about to fall into that deep slumber between being alive and…one of the undead. 

Before he slipped under completely, you whispered one last time, “now come back to me, Boy Scout..”

To be continued…

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet ,

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #i see hell in your eyes #my writing #my fics #enemies to lovers #slow burn #🩸🖤 #greta van fleet #josh gvf

[lastoneout]

Got asked if I had any tips for new artists during my stream today and I figured I'd put them here too:

Draw, seriously, just do it. This is the hardest part and also the most crucial. Just run at it screaming and refuse to back down. You just gotta do it.

Always do your wrist/arm/shoulder stretches before drawing and make sure to take breaks to stretch/re-center yourself if you've been going for a few hours or more! (Here's the stretches I do, and they help with gaming and writing and desk work too, they're just a good idea all around!)

Try to draw less from the wrist and more from the shoulder(move your arm more and your wrist less basically). That and stretches will help you avoid carpal tunnel which is never fun.

Consistency is only something you need to worry about if you're like, working in the industry/doing some types of commissions(like an twitch emote bundle or a comic book). If you're just starting out or only drawing for yourself it literally doesn't matter. Like, I don't think I've ever drawn a character exactly the same way twice, it's fine.

Don't do warm up drawings, do warm up scribbles. Doodles circles and squares and lines and swirls until you feel nice and lose, then start actually drawing.

If you're between 50-90% done with something and you REALLLY start to hate it, keep going. You just gotta power through, cuz chances are it's perfectly fine(or even really good) and your monkey brain is being a jackass coward chugging that impostor syndrome juice.

If you finish and you still hate it put it away until tomorrow or the day after and then look again. Never EVER trust your negative opinions about your art(or anything) if it's after like 8pm.

Re: the above points, as an exampke last night I HATED my new pngtuber model that I'd spent literally all day on. Went to bed and in the morning was like "oh this is good actually". Trust me, tired burnt out you is not a good judge of quality, especially the quality of something you've been staring at for like 4-5 hours.

If, after all that, you still hate it, that's okay too. It's a bummer, but don't try to force yourself to like something just cuz you spent a lot of time on it. Chalk it up to experience and move on to the next thing!

Do everything in your power to not compare yourself to others. It won't get you anywhere. Instead learn to look at other people's art and find what you like about it and try to break it down or do it that way yourself. Dont fully copy/trace ofc, but really think about how something looks and see if you can figure out why you like it and/or how it's done.

OH MY GOD USE REFERENCES. Anyone who says not to use references is talking out of their ass. You think figure drawing classes are bad?? That artists draw from life just for shits and giggles?? No, its because you need to know what shit looks like to draw it!!! USE REFERENCES!!!

Same with youtube tutorials, especially for learning to use digital art programs. Do take everything with a grain of salt ofc(we've all seen the "masculine vs feminine eyes" shit or the trash trend of "I fix my viewer's bad art uwu" ignore that crap) but you can learn all kinds of shit for free on youtube.

If you can feel yourself burning out fucking stop drawing a take a break. Even if you're in the middle of something, or part of you wants to keep drawing. Burn outs suck and it's gonna take a lot longer to get over it if you push yourself until you crash instead of just acknowledging that you're hitting your limit and stopping for a few days. The art will be there when you get back, your health should always come first!

If someone tells you thick line art or anime style or whatever is bad, ignore them. All art is subjective. Draw what you want how you want. Even if it's all thick line art or you stick to sketches or only do anime stuff or chibis or humans or furries or goddamn stick figures just draw literally whatever. If this is just a hobby for you there's no reason to push yourself. Draw what makes you happy, fuck everyone else.

Anyway that's all I've got for now, might add more tomorrow when I'm less tired(and I encourage additions for other artists as I'm self taught and had to learn most of this the hard way and thus I'm sure I've missed stuff) but yeah, just draw my dudes, this is supposed to be fun. You deserve to have fun.

#art

[eisforeidolon]

Okay, today is the kind of day where I really can't just scroll past something like this nonsense without comment [X]. To paraphrase: D/C fans totes loved Jared and really wanted to support Walker but just couldn't because the finale was such a betrayal :( :( :(. We're not hateful for the sake of being bitter, it's just so sad we had to turn on Jared because [implied batshit crazy]! FFS.

First, as if we don't remember how many fucking times hellers attacked Jared over utter bullshit long before the finale. Not only have they always been hateful little shits, they've always lied through their teeth about it. Some post from three years ago doing the same old same old, "Oh we're totally the GOOD side of fandom who never hate anybody, lookit our halos!" song and dance doesn't mean jack shit.

Second, what the fuck do they think being bitter means? "The tv show I was watching refused to cater to me personally by throwing away the core premise and genre of the show, which is totally unfaiiiiir - despite common sense and me being told repeatedly they wouldn't ever do so. Therefore I'm going to quote unquote punish the network and the stars by not watching any of their other shows! So there!" Like ... what? It's absurdly bitter - not to mention childish. Which doesn't even get into the giant black hole of logic that is blaming the actors for the writing which was done by the, y'know, writers.

But let's pretend for a moment it's not inherently bitter (as well as fucking ridiculous) to be butthurt a tv show didn't end in bad OOC fanfic out of nowhere and to blame the actors for it. They still prove it's nothing more than sour grapes bitter shipwar bullshit by ONLY singling out Jared and Walker. If they were really actually trying to avoid supporting the CW and ALL those involved in the finale rightfully disappointing their delusional asses? Misha conspired a year in advance to queerbait them with Castiel's death scene, pitched only as one-sided and with him knowing Castiel wouldn't be in the final two episodes. Jensen knew the ending was centering on the brothers as early as Jared did when they talked with the writers and played just at least as much of a part in adding little touches to make the finale as brother-centric as it was, including removing dialogue mentions of Castiel. Jensen also nodded along with Jared's Denvercon answer about how Castiel's death speech wasn't inherently romantic and added his own concurring opinion. And yet somehow, just by pure coincidence, really, I'm sure! It's only Walker and Jared they decided to boycott - while most of them wandered around proclaiming how happy they were to tune in to TW and GK on the supposedly oh-so-evil CW. But they totes love Jared, really! 🙄 They just can't help personally blaming just him for the finale because if there is a reboot he isn't half their shitty ship there was, like, totally an Easter egg mentioning going to Texas or whatever! Yeah! The finale is totally Walker propaganda!!! So they just couldn't watch only that CW show, though they really really wanted to! 😢

This transparent bullshit was at least funnier when it had hypnotiddies in it.

#destihellers #destiew #spn finale #shipping goggles of inanity

[blackjackkent]

how about 8, 11, and 20 from the group questions section of the OC Asklist?

(OC Asks: Put Those Guys in Situations!)

I'm not sure which group you/the prompt had in mind, so we're going with a scenario of all my OCs somehow isekaid into the same situation, because I think it'd be funny. XD

8. Your characters have been invited to a fancy dress ball, and their costumes must fit a group theme. What do they wear?

The group immediately sorts out into three categories:

a) So excited, psyched to come up with a theme: Philip, Riley, Daniel, Dom, Caden, Joan

b) Meh, will do whatever the group deems appropriate: Matty, Jaksa, Randa, Hector.

c) Would rather do literally anything else: Jenna, Adi, Elliot, Hayden.

Group A comes up with a very nice theme of everyone in black and deep jewel tones of each person's favorite colors, super coordinated, gorgeously designed, everyone looking their best. The whole group wears it without complaint, except Joan, who (despite having been super into the planning) decides at the last minute to show up instead in a skimpy spangly number slit all the way up to her hip just to fuck with everyone, and she and Jenna almost get into a fistfight in the entrance hall.

11. Your characters are sharing stories around the fire. What story does each character tell? Whose story is the most popular?

All of them have lots of adventures to share from their respective universes. Some of them are... definitely better storytellers than others. Jenna and Hector in particular flat out refuse to participate, each claiming that they're no good at telling stories. Joan makes up an outrageous tall tale. Most of the others are pretty sincere though not flashy, telling some minor adventure while knowing deep down that there are much worse things they could speak about. Dom tells some hilarious misadventure with incredible detail and has everyone howling.

20. Your characters are trapped in a joint dream or simulation that recreates their greatest fears. They can only escape if each one of them faces their fear. What are these fears? How do they overcome them? Who overcomes theirs first, and who takes the longest?

Oh man. I was gonna avoid writing one out for every char cos I have quite a collection at this point and I knew it'd take forever, but this is pretty juicy and I can't resist indulging myself. Let's see.

a) Jenna> A room full of the burning corpses of her friends. Overcome through major support from the others in the group; oddly enough the only person who is really able to get through to her is Matty, the older marine, who does not try to reassure her that everything is all right, but simply reminds her quietly (hating the words as he says them) that she has pushed through worse.

b) Matty> The blue light of the Reaper hive mind. Faced as he faced it in real life, with pistol shots directly into the source until the way is clear. Everyone is mildly surprised given how cerebral he is in other contexts.

c) Philip> The room is CRAWLING with bugs of all sorts, all sizes. This one is almost a relief after Jenna's corpse room, but everyone quickly realizes that just helping him squash them all isn't the answer. Philip, in the end, sits in the center of the room and makes very unhappy noises while letting them crawl harmlessly around on him, while Hector and Adi sit next to him for moral support.

d) Jaksa> Something very similar to the DAO gauntlet - a reunion with Tamlen, only it's the blighted version of him with darkness pouring out of his face. She tries multiple times to lash out at this vision and the room simply resets, only allowing them passage when she does not strike but instead waits; the bleak vision drifts closer, lays its mutilated hand against her cheek for a moment and then vanishes.

e) Riley> An empty, bleak, blank Hightown mansion, devoid of family, devoid of life. All lost, all gone... The others sit at the table with her, eat a meal, help fill the space with voices again where it has been empty for so long.

f and g) Adi and Dom get roughly the same room, one right after another. Adi's is an enormous Chantry building, full of people all watching her and bathed in glowing light from an indistinct figure in a throne at the far end. Dom's is exactly the same, but no one is there, no one is watching, and the throne is empty. In both cases the place seems to ask of them only that they look steadily at the possibility and then walk forward nevertheless.

h) Daniel's room is bleeding darkspawn taint from the walls, which close in slowly on all sides while a distant young boy's voice screams at him - "You can't die, Father! You can't leave me alone!" Leaving aside his greatsword he smashes the blighted wall open with his own fists, opening a path beyond. Hector, insightful as he is, asks, "The boy screaming. Was that your son? Or you to your own father?" Daniel doesn't answer.

i) Elliot faces down an enormous rage demon, and alone of all the group does not seem surprised, just angry and tired. Without even waiting to consider the matter, he steps forward, slams his staff straight through the creature and then sets off an explosion within it, sending bits of ectoplasm slapping into the walls. "That didn't take you long," Jenna says dryly. "I've had a lot of practice; I fight it every night in my dreams," he answers.

j and k) Hayden and Randa's rooms are also similar - massive, high-ceilinged ornate places full of mocking, laughing voices. Jenna offers to beat the shit out of all the onlookers calling Hayden "knife-ear" and Randa "ox", but neither of them agrees. Randa just points out, in her morose, taciturn way, that it is better not to acknowledge them; the door opens for her as she stalks through the hall looking straight ahead. Hayden, vibrating with rage, says they don't matter, and the way to move on is to prove she is better than any of them ever were. Whether the room agrees or not is unclear, but when she stalks to the dais at the front of the hall and burns a Grey Warden symbol into the wall with magic, the door opens for her.

l) Joan, like Elliot, is greeted by the demon that dogs her - the desire demon that latched onto her when she came to Kirkwall, and that she thought she left behind when she left the city. Astonishing everyone, she - usually so cocky - goes completely blank and almost seems to panic. The demon just laughs. "You don't have it as easy as the others," it purrs. "There is no easy way to face me down, because deep down, I'm not what you fear, I'm what you want." It vanishes, the door opens. Everyone is somehow more rattled by this than anything else.

m) Caden's room is like another of Irenicus's dreams - he faces a blank-faced man that morphs into the Slayer, which scares the shit out of Hector. The only way out is to beat it into submission, just as he always has before within his own mind - but when they kill it, the room resets. The true answer is to hold it down as his friends once held him in a moment of transformation, to wait for the anger to bleed from it until it fades away.

n) Hector's room is, again, something of a relief after some of the past ones. He has many, many things he can think of fearing, but is instead presented with a giant red dragon which opens its mouth to shoot a burst of flame into his face. At first he panics, but, roused by the presence of the others around him, he forces himself forward and leaps onto its back instead. The others follow suit and the dragon leaps into the air and carries them free of the prison.

#bjk talks #vampiricsheep #lol this got so out of hand and I indulged myself shamelessly XD #but it was fun #ask meme #Jenna shepard #Matty shepard #Philip shepard #Jaksa mahariel #Riley hawke #aderyn lavellan #Daniel cousland #Elliot hawke #Dominic trevelyan #Hayden surana #Joan hawke #Randa adaar #caden of Candlekeep #Hector Carlisle

[blackberrywars]

38, 41 (I’m always cruising for fic recs!) 42 & 48 ❤️

Thank you so much for playing!!! I appreciate the asks, and apologize for the amount of shit I about to write. I messaged you about losing this draft, but apparently tumblr just sent it to the bottom of my draft pile, so here we go! Putting it under a cut, because I went so overboard.

38: Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?

Alright, so this one is a little complicated. On the one hand, my most popular fic by far is Flint And Steel, but while the numbers definitely shocked me the most, it didn't surprise me. Most of my stuff is of side-pairings and f/f stuff, which isn't as popular in this fandom, so of course a fic with the big three of Jaskier, Geralt, and Yennefer is gonna get more traction in the form of shares and comments. The ones that surprised me though? The first two installments of my lady laiden smut series, Sweeter Than Pride and Collars of Many Kinds. Those two got awesome comments and bookmarks from people I didn't even recognize. And the sheer number of hits on them means there's definitely people re-visiting them, which is the highest kind of flattery on my smut fic.

41: Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

I refuse to choose only one, so buckle up, you're getting six. Also, to everyone I @'d, I hope you don't mind, I can remove it if you prefer.

I Am Bound To You (With A Tie I Cannot Break) by @on-a-lucky-tide. He did a fucking incredible job at conveying very complicated emotions in actions, and made me cry for entirely too long. I want to develop this skill so badly.

A Beginners Guide to Exploiting the Kaedweni Tax Code For Fun and Profit by @heronfem. If you ever want a masterclass in translating characterization to a modern au, this is IT. It's a massive Laiden-centered project with the whole found family along for the ride, and they handle the large cast beautifully. I've never really done a modern AU, but if I do and it's half this good, I'll be thankful.

Lives in Legacy by @tantumuna. This fic is is not only long enough to make me pass out in envy, every word counts. It explores a truly dark omegaverse with Eskel and Geralt, and there aren't words to describe it. I felt truly indescribable amounts of pain while reading this, even during the healing, and I'm so glad to have done it.

Snow and Dirty Rain by ajfanfic. It's a lovely little series of 70s lesbians Geralt and Jaskier living through that era as queer women and adopting butch lesbian Ciri. It's just a wonderful, well-researched AU, and I want to emulate that kind of grounded world.

Worthy of the Honey-Comb by @castillon02. It's a portrait of Vesemir coming to terms with Kaer Morhen's destruction and having to step up for the remaining wolves and form a new image of what it means to be a wolf witcher. Combines flashback and present moment so well it makes me ache.

Ballads by @linearao3. This is not a witcher fic like the rest, but it is one of the best examples of synthesizing omegaverse into a book's canon. This made me feel so many things, and again, all the details and worldbuilding just make it spectacular.

42: Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

My dear @hellinglasses has become a dear friend and has always been a wonderful cheerleader. Ever since the day she sent 9 comments on all my fics to my dry-as-the-desert inbox. Her efforts have helped me write so much more than I thought I could, and while I love going back to re-read them all, this one om Calm Before The Storm is probably one of my favorites.

This comment by Ledgea will forever hold a place in my heart, because it was the first comment I ever received, on the first fic I ever wrote. They made it into an amazing comment thread, and it was just so encouraging to me as a first-time writer. (EDIT: I put the wrong comment by mistake, because i was trying to limit myself)

48: What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

According to my history, the last fic i (re-re-re-re-)read was Cock in the Henhouse by the wonderful @halehathnofury. It's a hilarious, filthy Geralt x Eskel anthology, and I have entirely too many feelings about it. Excellent for a night when you just need to feel good all over.

#the witcher #berry's games #thank you for playing friend

[hillbillyoracle]

(approximation, not word for word)

Me: So you’ve got a therapy appointment this afternoon, are you going to talk about what’s been going on lately?

Partner: Yeah I’m gonna talk about how hard things have been. 

Me: So about how you cannot hold even the most casual of conversations to the point were everyone in this house avoids you? Or that Saturday you stormed out of the house, screamed at me, threw your water bottle right past me, and claimed you were going to bake in the sun and sleep on the front lawn in full view of the neighbors? Because I was “bossing you around” by not constantly soliciting your input and I cussed a lot when you escalated? 

Partner: Yeah that too. Could you write that down for me so it’s easier to talk to her about?

Me: -writes it down-

After Session

Me: So how’d it go?

Partner: It went well. Didn’t spend much time on the social interaction issues like I wanted to but we talked about my suicidality and it was good for me. 

Me: Okay.

Partner: (is slightly mopey and passive aggressive that I’m not responding more)

I just...this is a huge huge reason why I’m just not about therapy as a profession. As a primary tenant it centers the client, seeks to validate and normalize - ideally as a means to change but regularly provides justification for abusive people to keep abusing and centers their experience while excluding the risks to people around them. 

I have been with her for over 5 years now and I’ve only seen a steady decline since looping in therapists. 

One therapist claimed she was basically in remission and they didn’t need to see each other any more when the week before she’d gone down into the basement, broke shit, and started self harming in front of me. 

I just...

There is currently no evidence based treatment program for violent people that can do better than a 50/50 shot whether someone has reoffended at the 12 month mark. At the same time - a shit ton of therapists are normalizing the feelings of all these folks who get told “got to therapy” for harming or exploiting their partners. Like...

It’s stuff like this that just has me thinking I’ll probably never visit another therapist again. 

How could I ever trust a system that refuses to monitor her meds and enables her abuse by validating her feelings which she then takes as permission to do what she does? 

I’m so tired have having shit thrown at/near me, having her self harm and telling me it’s my fault because I said or did xyz thing, and being told I need to run an entire household solo because she “contributes money” (somehow I think even if I out earned her she’d have some other reason) and then a therapist is like “yeah well you know it’s normal to feel that way” or whatever the fuck. 

And in before someone starts the “well SHE has A CONDITION” - yeah so do I. Why do mine matter less? She has never at any point in our relationship actively sought out information on or adapted her behavior to better assist me. She has actively used what she does know about mine to trigger fights which she then uses to guilt me and get her way. If neutrality is my biggest crime here, I’ll take it. I spent literally several years reading everything I could get my hands on, changing everything about the way I do things, and she is still like this and relentlessly critical. 

No I’m not looking for “help getting out” - 90% of folks have 0 clue what that actually entails, especially for a disabled person - so please don’t offer it. I’m aware of my options. 

See this is why I don’t write about this shit very often. I know what the internet thinks about folks like me. I’m very aware. 

Anywho, if anyone else is in this boat, just know you’re not alone. Perfectly normal to be skeptical of a system that has no tools for screening abusive clients, treating them, and frequently enables them. Therapy is not a fucking magic trick, it’s just part of the same crappy system. 

#mental health #therapists #skepticism #cw: abusive relationship

[unhealthyfanobsession]

nessian queen i need help

*falls to knees*

just read some acotar and mor was being rlly annoying

can you give me some therapy and maybe write a fic where mor is kinda maybe like subtly insulting nesta the way she did in acowar and cassian catches her and like legit just tells her “mor shut the fuck UP” bc I really need that pls like rlly badly for my sanity and mental health n wellness

*blows u a kiss*

I mean how could I say no to an ask like this? I’m very interested in that period of time post-war, pre-ACOFAS so that’s where this little scene is set. Hope this clears your skin of the troubles you’ve been through

“She talked to Elain yesterday,” Feyre sighed, swinging her legs over Rhys’ lap on the overstuffed couch. “So that’s something.”

“I still don’t understand why she moved out,” Cassian adjusted his wings. They were mostly healed, but still got stiff if he let them settle too long.

“It didn’t surprise me she wanted her own space,” Feyre smiled sadly up at Cassian. “That’s just Nesta. She’d never let others see her struggling. What gets me is why she chose to go to that awful little place across town when the townhouse is completely empty.”

“I don’t understand why we end up talking about this every night.” Mor lifted the wine bottle from the Center of the low table and refilled her glass. “She left for the same reason she does everything else. Spite.”

“That’s not fair, Mor.” Feyre shook her head. Cassian only brushed the hair out of his eyes. He was starting to feel like he was living in a time warp.

Mor had a point, honestly. They had this same conversation every night. Feyre and him tried to brain storm ways to get Nesta back, Amren refused to say anything, Rhys kept his mouth shut but sometimes let a laugh out at Mor’s jibes. Then Feyre got mad at him and they all dropped the topic. Until the next night.

“It’s true,” Mor shrugged. “I’m tired of talking like it’s some big mystery. Nesta is being spiteful. Whatever. Nothing new.”

Feyre frowned, but said nothing. A muscle in Rhys’ neck pulses like he was holding back from nodding in agreement.

Maybe he didn’t have a right to be annoyed, but he ducking was. He was exhausted and frustrated and annoyed and just wanted to talk to her.

But he couldn’t. She wouldn’t let him. So, he talked about her. And Mor knew that. He knew that she knew.

“Well maybe Feyre and I are tired of you being nothing but negative while we are trying to come up with actual solutions,” he finally snapped.

Mor’s jaw went slack, a few drops of red wine dribbling down her chin.

Rhys let out a low whistle.

“My solution,” Mor drawled, “is to stop talking about that plague of a girl and get on with our lives.”

Cassian breathed in hard enough that one of his freshly healed ribs sent a sharp pain through his chest.

“That’s not what you said when it was me.” Mor swallowed, shifting in her seat. “When I was a fucking mess after the last war. When all of us were drinking and sleeping around and fighting for a decade. When I-“ Cassian stopped himself short. What he’d done in Illyria was not a story Feyre should learn about like this. “You weren’t so flippant when it was me, Mor.”

“Because you deserve better!” Mor threw her hands up in the air. “You were going through something, but it wasn’t who you are. Nesta has been nothing but nasty and spiteful and horrid since she got here!”

“Shut up!” Even Cassian was surprised when the words spilled out of his lips, but he found he couldn’t stop speaking them. “Just shut up for once! Please. You hate Nesta, fine. I don’t really care, but you don’t need to go on and on about it every fucking night. Feyre and I have asked you to cut it out so many times. Just give it a fucking rest, Mor.” He shook his head, breathing out a long, slow sigh. “Feyre and I are going to talk about her. We are going to talk about trying to help her. You don’t have to like it and you don’t have to listen to it, but you do have to just shut up. Or leave.”

Mor blinked. “This is why I say it every night,” she pointed a finger at him hard. “This is why I won’t give it a rest!” She set her glass down and pushed to her feet. “Because someone needs to remind you what she is. You want to help her? Where was she when you were healing? Where was she when the fighting ended? She will never care about you like you deserve! Either of you. She isn’t capable of it.”

“You have known my sister for less than a year,” Feyre spoke quietly. “All of you have.” She shook her head, “I have my problems with Nesta, but I have a right to. You have known her in the months after her very life and humanity were torn away from her and she still fought in our war.”

“She did everything in her power not to!” Mor cried, “she fought training and attending the High Lord meeting and even stepping on to the battle field until the last second every time!”

“But she did it,” Cassian broke in. “She did train. And she did warn us about the wall. And she did speak to the High Lords and she nearly died to draw Hybern out.”

“She nearly sacrificed you, you mean.”

“I wouldn’t even have been alive to face Hybern without her.” The room froze. Everyone went entirely still and silent with that single sentence that grazed against two things they never spoke of. Cassian’s guilt regarding his legions, and the reason Nesta was able to pull him from the sky at all.

“You don’t have to like her,” Cassian repeated. “But just shut up about it.”

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #a court of thorns and roses #nesta and cassian #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #anti morrigan #anti mor #a court of frost and starlight #a court of war and ruin

[ptergwen]

If you do smut can you do like stark!reader x peter parker (spiderman) are dating 3-4 month and y/n and peter had their very fluff first time then next morning y/n has hickies all over her neck and her thights stomach... and tony/ her dad sees it and is confronting them with it😂 i love your stories 🤤

just saying hi

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: veryyyy suggestive, swearing, some pretty embarrassing moments

a/n: thank you babe! i didn’t write the actual smut but y’all can guess what happened 😭 also this is super long i couldn’t help myself

-

it was everything. it was everything you ever wanted your first time to be and more.

you’d brought up to peter during a make out session one night that you were ready to go farther than you two already have. there was one base you didn’t hit yet. the fourth, the final. you were thinking about it for a while before that, and peter would be lying if he said he didn’t.

your love has always been physical, whether it’s you kissing peter’s cuts after a mission or him tracing hearts on you with his fingers. there’s also the more sexual side of things. that part, you both enjoy just as much, maybe even a little more because you know exactly how to make each other feel good after all the trial and error.

what better way to combine the two than, well, making love?

last night was your sign from the universe, your go ahead to do it. you had the compound to yourselves because your dad had taken all the “big kids” out for the night. you’re both well into college, but he refuses to see you as adults. that meant no peter and no you. you two were a little offended until you realized you could make use of your alone time.

you started off searching for a movie. that turned into you wrestling peter for the remote because you didn’t feel like watching back to the furure yet again. wrestling turned into you on top of him, which turned into you kissing him, which turned into peter throwing the remote somewhere and carrying you up to your room with his lips still on yours.

neither of you had to say it. you were on the same page, same wavelength, two brains in one as peter layed you down and trailed his kisses lower and lower.

peter was so gentle with you, except for when you told him not to be. those were the times he didn’t hold back. he was attentive and sweet and showed you quite a few times how much he loves you. you showed him just the same. yeah, it was really everything.

“morning, baby. you awake yet?” peter hums against the shell of your ear, arms wound comfortably around you. “kinda,” you mumble back with a goofy smile. he presses his lips to your ear and nuzzles his face in the side of your neck. “kinda... how’d you sleep?” you can hear the grin in his voice. his nose nudges your bare skin where a fresh hickey lies and makes you scrunch your own up.

“good, really good. always love sleeping with you.” you’re both aware of the alternate meaning that has now. “funny,” peter lets out a breathy laugh against you and brushes his thumb over your stomach where your shirt got ridden up. you sigh, enjoying his soft touch and reaching behind you to play with his curls. they’re a lot messier than usual from you tugging on them all last night.

peter removes his face from your neck and carefully turns you onto your other side. you’re facing him now, eyes trained on his concerned expression. “hey, just wanna check. how are you feeling? still sore?” a tiny smile stretches your face. he really does care about you and how you feel after everything. you know for a fact most other guys wouldn’t.

“i mean, yeah. you were... it was a lot, but i’ll be fine in a few days i think.” the mention of peter being a lot makes color rush to his face. you laugh quietly at that, cupping one of his cheeks that’s turning pink. “oh. i, um, i didn’t know that. sorry.” he smiles shyly as you smooth your thumb over his warm skin. “don’t be. it wasn’t as bad after i... adjusted a little,” you reassure him, making him lean into your palm.

“i really am sorry, y/n/n. can i make it up to you?” peter checks with you, eyes going up from yours to down your body. he hooks a finger in the waistband of your pajama shorts. “make you feel better?” the way he finishes his question with a bite of his lip is definitely tempting. so is your stomach yelling at you to put some food in it. you’ll have to wait.

“later. right now, you can make me breakfast,” you beam at him and take his hand. peter pushes his palm against yours, letting you lace your fingers together as he puffs some air out of his cheeks. “yeah, that’s gonna go well.” “i’m supervising. it will.” you capture his lips in a kiss, one he instantly reciprocates, free hand resting on your hip. just as it’s heating up, you break it.

“i’m hungry for actual food,” you giggle and roll out of his embrace. “ok, ok, ok. let’s go see what we have,” peter gives in with a chuckle, grabbing the same hand he was just holding and following you down to the kitchen.

he ends up popping some frozen waffles into the toaster, you sitting up on the counter with your phone out while he struggles through the different settings. “should i put it on bake? no, that doesn’t sound right,” he talks to himself with eyes squinted in concentration. “your dad made this thing so... detailed.” it’s an old stark industries toaster, one with options you probably don’t even need.

“yeah because he loves his toast, so maybe don’t break it. he’ll kill you or something,” you half playfully half seriously suggest. peter is one clumsy guy. he tsks at you and crouches down to read the words on the dial. there’s conveniently a setting for waffles, so he hits that one. he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it before.

since he’s down there, he takes one of your ankles in both hands and starts to kiss up your leg. it tickles when he gets to your knee, drawing a giggle out of you, but your phone still blocks his face. you’re doing it on purpose. “baby,” peter tries to get your attention in a soft voice. he presses a couple more kisses to your knee. you have to hold your breath so you don’t laugh again.

“baby girllll,” peter drags out, lips moving up your thigh. he nudges your phone with his nose much like a puppy would. “aye, i’m talkin’ to you here,” he says in a fake new york accent. you finally put it down next to you. “i’m listening.” you’re giving him a satisfied smile as he goes back to kissing you.

“just saying hi,” he looks up at you and moves your shorts aside while he kisses further and further to where you want. you scoot closer to him on the counter.

that’s when he stops. not only stops, gasps in horror. “what?” you ask quickly, his eyes fixed on your inner thighs. “i kind of, uh, marked you up. like, a lot.” he runs a finger gently over the bruised skin. you’re suddenly very aware of it now. it doesn’t exactly hurt, just feels bumpy and weird. you peer down at yourself to see the damage, eyes going wide.

“shit... they’re on my neck, too,” you remember, murmuring to him. you’ll have to cover these up before everyone gets home. worry flashes across peter’s face. “oh my god, i didn’t even realize. it- it was dark and you told me-“ “pete, it’s okay. it’s pretty hot,” you stop his rambling, reaching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. he frowns up at you.

“really? are you sure i didn’t go too far? because you can tell me.” you’ve always appreciated how much peter genuienly values your thoughts on things, in the bedroom and in other parts of your relationship. it does lead to a lot of second guessing, though. you squeeze his shoulder and let out a breath. “i’m sure, okay? it’s really not that serious. i’ll just change so no one can see.”

peter winds an arm around one of your legs, body relaxing ever so slightly under your touch. “okay.” he gives your thigh one final kiss, then rests his chin on it. “what about your neck?” “uh...” you hadn’t considered that yet. “makeup? a scarf?” you’ve seen enough tv to know neither of those work, but they’re your only options.

“yup. mr. stark is really gonna kill me now,” peter says under his breath, tensing up all over again. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “what? we’re literally grown adults, we can do whatever we want-“

tony claps loudly as he steps into the kitchen, announcing his return home. peter jumps up from between your legs faster than fast. he moves so he’s next to you, and you hop down from the counter.

“hello, daughter of mine. spider of man,” your dad greets you two, you pulling down your shorts with a plastered on smile. “or would it be man of spider?” he plucks an apple from the bowl on the table as he ponders his question. steve and wanda file into the room next. “second one,” peter replies, grinning a little too much to be normal. tony takes note of that.

wanda comes over to the fridge for a snack, which is close to where you and peter are. “how was last night?” you ask her to take the attention off you two. wanda settles on a yogurt and turns to you. “it was good. we shared a few hotel rooms, had our own party.” she glances over at peter, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “seems like you two had a fun night of your own.”

peter’s mouth drops open. “how did you-“ he forgot she could read his mind and now knows everything that happened. you slap a hand over your forehead. “you couldn’t think about anything else? for, like, a minute?” you whisper yell at him. he uses his eyes to plead with you. “i’m sorry! i was looking at the hickeys-“ he realizes what he’s saying. “crap.”

shooting you a wink, wanda shuts the fridge and goes to join the rest of the team in the living room. lucky for you and peter, steve started lecturing tony about washing his fruit before he eats it. he didn’t hear any of that. there’s still the problem of your visible hickeys that you have zero seconds to hide.

“how the fuck am i supposed to cover these? they’re right in the center, peter!” you panic, your heart starting to race as peter fumbles for a dish towel. that’s the best he could come up with? “no!” you toss it back at him. he throws it on the counter with a pained look. tony and steve make their way over to you.

“oh, hush. a couple of deadly pesticides won’t shake me, stevey boy,” tony insists and takes another big bite of his apple. steve huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “you’re a big baby, tony. if you’re not gonna do the right thing, at least buy organic-“ with the world’s longest sigh, tony chucks his apple into the open garbage can.

“there. no more apple discourse.” steve shakes his head at your dad’s behavior. “that was a waste. you could’ve finished it.” “not with your nagging into my literal ear.” steve raises his hands in surrender before making his way out of the kitchen. tony side steps past him and over to you. “enough of that now. let’s have a welcome home hug from my girl.”

you share a look with peter, a look of pure fear that’s in both of your eyes. he’ll definitely notice the hickeys if he gets that close to you. he holds out his arms expectantly while peter scratches the back of his own neck. “sure, dad. welcome home.” an awkward smile on your lips, you bury your face in your dad’s chest and wrap your arms around him in one motion. this way, he didn’t have time to see you from too close up.

peter exhales in relief at the narrowly avoided disaster. that’s until tony makes a request. “missed me that much, kiddo, huh? come out of there.” “but, i’m so comfortable. i wanna stay like this,” you insist, a niceness to your voice tony immediately sees through. he drops his arms from around you, eyeing peter suspiciously, who averts his gaze to the floor.

“nuh uh, you did something. both of you,” your dad states, taking a step to stand between you and peter. peter gulps down a breath before speaking. “mr. stark, it was-“ tony holds up a hand. “don’t worry, kid. i’ll figure it out.”

he gives peter a proper stare, searching him for clues of some sort. it’s a good thing he isn’t wanda because the details of your night would have been exposed. he couldn’t find anything, so now it’s your turn. he’s a little disappointed you’re the one hiding something.

“oh, y/n. not you,” tony sighs as he gives you a looking over. he starts with your face, your eyes following down as his do. it’s when he gets just past your chin that he sees them. the little hickeys littering your skin, some already deep shades of purple. he rips off his glasses in disbelief.

“absolutely not.” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his glasses are in. “i’m not seeing this. i’m not seeing this if i don’t look.” you scoff at his reaction. “dad, you know we’re together. you can’t expect us to not...” “don’t say it,” tony begs, getting the urge to hurl his half eaten apple. he turns and faces peter.

“parker, you really did all of that?” peter only blinks, nervously meeting the eyes of his mentor. “to my daughter?” tony adds on to scare him even more. “i- i-“ a burst of frustration comes out of peter. “you left two teenagers alone the whole night. what’d you think was gonna happen?” he’s shocked at his own words, his face showing it. tony raises his eyebrows. both your hands cover your mouth.

not wanting to deal with peter, tony addresses you instead. “i don’t care how you do it, cover those up. don’t let me see them ever again. understood?” you nod a good amount of times and reach for peter’s hand. he’s about to give it, then tony glares down at what’s happening. peter pulls back immediatelty. “understood. we’ll, um, do better next time,” you agree, tony winching at the idea of a next time.

“you, parker... treat a lady with a little more respect, eh?” tony clicks his tongue at him. he’s referring to all the hickeys. peter’s lips form a line, a sarcastic one that says oh well. “i tried, mr. stark, but y/n wanted me to-“ “christ, that’s enough.” tony furiously shakes his head and starts to walk away from you two. “never again!”

you’re thanking god when he sets off for the living room, you hiding your face in peter’s chest, his face in your hair. “that was terrible. that was the worst thing ever,” you say into him. “i’m sorry, baby. we gotta be more careful.”

it’s not over yet because then, the toaster dings. you’d completely forgotten about the waffles. you and peter both separate with your millionth shared look of terror. tony comes rushing back into the room, very familiar with that noise.

“first you destroy my daughter, now my toaster? pete... you’re in for it, kid.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker #marvel #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tony stark

[sparkbeast20]

Get me a picture of Solomon Shirtless

“The first person who can get me a picture of Solomon shirtless, I’m officially yours.”

The room fill with sound of spilt takes, things falling, and hand slamming on the table. All the brothers turn to you, some widen eyes and others mouths open.

Lucifer asks you why would want a picture of Solomon.

Your simple answer “I want to see his pact marks” you got up and walk out the room, leaving them with “I’m dead serious”

Lucifer

· Child’s play

· He calls Solomon over to discuss “human” topics

· They were in the library with books display about pacts and effects.

· He’ll asks Solomon about his pact marks.

· But Solomon natural self, asks Lucifer to make a pact with him.

· Lucifer refuse, and ask about a certain demon he “knows” if Solomon made a pact with that demon.

· His say yes, unbutton his uniform, and points on the pact mark.

· Lucifer quickly brought out his phone and took the picture.

· But Solomon hands were in the way.

· Darn, he wasn’t quick enough.

· Solomon tells Lucifer, he’ll let him take a picture, if he says please.

· I WILL KILL YOU.

· he wants this to be over so, he took a deep breath, gives Solomon a fake smile and said please, through his teeth.

· With that, Solomon opens his uniform and let Lucifer take one photo.

· Thanking Solomon, and walks away.

· He asks you to meet him in his study.

· You came, sat on the chair right in front of his desk while sat on the opposite side.

· He brought out an envelop with the picture, and slowly bringing closer to you, but quickly taking it back.

· His ask to you to only seeing it once, you nod and he gave it to you.

· You took it out of the envelop, take a long good look of it, then tearing it in front of him.

· Shock Lucifer was about to get up, when you place a hand above his

· squishing his hand tell him.

· “You won Lucifer, I’m all yours”

Mammon

· He will get that photo at all cause.

· A loud knock at the doors of Purgatory Hall.

· Poor Luke had to get up to answer the door.

· He opens it to see Mammon with a camera that he “borrowed” from Levi or Asmo.

· He asks where’s Solomon with an aggressive tone.

· Luke tells him to go home, but Mammon just repeats the question.

· Luke just wanting to go back to bed, he points Mammon to Solomon’s room.

· Solomon making potion, heard his door kick open, he turns to see Mammon in the middle of the door frame.

· “Mammon! What are doing here- “

· “Take off your shirt”

· “What!”

· “I need a picture of your pact marks”

· “NO!”

· Mammon ran toward Solomon, he quickly dodges the demon, he grabs a potion and throw it at Mammon.

· He got hit, but for whatever he powers through the effect of the potion. (Power of love, I guess.)

· AH! It hurts but I NEED THAT PHOTO

· And he starts throwing potion, this fight took why too long.

· Early in the morning, you heard a knock on your door, you got up and walk over there.

· You open to see a tired Mammon, half of his hair colored, his shirt and pants is complete mess.

· Before you could say anything, handed over the camera with Solomon picture display on the screen.

· He drags himself to your bed and complete collapse on it.

· You called to him, he looks up to you, you’re still looking at the photo, then you look at him, with the camera screen face him.

· With one press of a button, you deleted the photo right in front of him.

· Mammon jaw drop, but you sat next to him.

· Cupping his face, rubbing your thumb on his cheek you tell him.

· “Congratulation Great Mammon, I’m all yours”

Leviathan

· He didn’t believe it at first.

· But when he saw his brothers is thinking, especially Mammon, he knew this was for real.

· Then a light bulb lit up in his head, his face grows devious smile.

· He has a plan.

· He invited Solomon over to help him with something.

· He opens the door to Levi’s room to see, a green screen and four sets of cameras all facing the center of the room.

· Levi greets Solomon, and tells him that he needs someone to model for his 3D character his making.

· Solomon agrees, but Levi say that he has to be shirtless for first part.

· Solomon asks why.

· He answers because the character has to have a default look, so he can add outfit in the future.

· With that, Levi got the photos, and proud of himself for not making things awkward.

· But he didn’t expect for Solomon to stay and watch how to make a 3D model.

· Oh I didn’t think this through.

· After a couple of hours of faking doing 3D model in a computer, the results were horrible.

· Levi feeling embarrass, he hides his face on the desk with his arms covering his head.

· Solomon tells him to find a different hobby, and leaves.

· It was the middle of the night when you heard a knock on the door.

· You told them to come in.

· The door open to revel Levi exhausted and red on the face, he raises his hand with the picture of Solomon.

· You got up, walk over to Levi.

· The two of you walk to your bed and sat down, you took the photos.

· You stared in each photo, then tear it in to pieces.

· Levi was about to scream because of your action, when lean your head on his shoulder, nuzzling it.

· Then you when near his ear and whisper.

· “Lord of shadow, I’m all your”

Satan

· He got angry a little bit about the task.

· there’s has to have a reason.

· Being cautious he messages Solomon about this.

· A laughing emoji pop up, then a text “they’re that desperate”

· Rage did begin to describe how piss of Satan was.

· Solomon had the gall to call you desperate.

· Later the evening, Solomon was in the common room of Purgatory Hall.

· Still thinking about his text with Satan, when he notices the window is crack open.

· He walks over, he was about to close it, when a hand grabs his wrist.

· Solomon looks out the window to see Satan in his demon form, mouthing “TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT”.

· At breakfast, everyone was eating and planning, when suddenly Satan walks in with a smile on his face.

· He saw you eating your breakfast, he walks over place the picture of a scare shirtless Solomon next to your plate.

· You almost choke to see it.

· While everyone else is shock and disappointed that Satan manage to get the picture.

· You grab the picture off the table, took a long good look then tear it.

· Most of the brothers were shock, and Satan was about to break something, when you gesture him to come closer.

· He leans near you, then you whisper in his ear.

· “Thank you, Satan I’m all your”

Asmodeus

· That’s easy, Solomon wouldn’t say no to him, right?

· The next day, Asmo want to Purgatory Hall to get the pictures he needed.

· But when he asks where’s Solomon, Luke said that his hiding from him and his brother.

· Oh so, he wants to this game… well challenge accepted old friend.

· Asmo use all his socials give out a message.

· “If you spot Solomon, DM me his location”

· Within the hour, Asmo knows where Solomon is.

· But every time he gets close, Solomon manages to get away.

· After 20 attempts of catching Solomon, Asmo finally cornered him, but at a cause.

· Determine, tired and anger, a messes Asmo tells Solomon to give up.

· Knowing Asmo rage can rivel Satan, Solomon gave up.

· After taking the photo, Asmo asks Solomon why he was hiding.

· Solomon simple answer “I like a challenge”

· You were in the common room, when Asmo show up with the photos.

· He was is a mess when gave you the photos.

· After giving them a good stare, you rip up the photos.

· Asmo gasp, then quickly engulf in your embrace, and tell him.

· “I’m all yours, Asmo”

Beelzebub

· He’ll just ask him, what could go wrong.

· He just when over to Purgatory Hall to get the photo.

· When he saw Luke and Simeon speed walking away from their dorm.

· Are they going out somewhere?

· The door open, Solomon welcome Beel.

· I have a bad feeling.

· Once inside, Beel when straight to the point, and asks Solomon a picture of his pact marks.

· He would gladly accept, but he has to finish his dinner all on his own.

· Sweat drip down from Beel’s forehead, he knows where this is going.

· With one final breath, Beel tells Solomon that he’ll help him with his dinner.

· Solomon smile and asks Beel to follow him in to the dining hall.

· Dizzy, Beel awakes up from a food coma.

· He saw Solomon taking picture of himself in the mirror.

· He turns to greet Beel, and hand over his phone.

· However, Beel asks him one more thing.

· “Sure, what is it?”

· “Tell me all about your pact marks, while I write the down”

· You were at the kitchen making cupcakes, when Beel comes in.

· He gave you the photos and notes about the pacts.

· You folded the note and hide it in your pocket, but the photos you tear it up.

· Beel’s jaw drop, but you place a cupcake in it, and gave him hug.

· “You did so much Beel, I’m all yours.”

Belphegor

· He thought to himself “just a picture, hm easy”

· When luck comes his way, Belphie saw Solomon at their gate.

· Solomon was about to enter woods nearby, Belphie asks what he was doing here.

· He said that, he was get some ingredients for a potion his making.

· Belphie tells Solomon, he’ll help him in exchange he wants one photo of him showing his pact marks on his torso.

· Solomon agrees, and the two when into the woods.

· The first thing they need was salamander slim.

· However, those things are slippering every time Belphie grab on to it, the Salamander slide out of his hands.

· After 5 attempts, they manage to get the slim.

· Then a certain fur from a cougar fang.

· Belphie got scratch.

· Then finally 10 seven leafs clovers

· Fuck! those things are rare, are you insane.

· After hours of looking, they found ten clovers.

· Once they got out the woods, Belphie brought out his phone and gave to Solomon.

· “Deals a deal I don’t want to see you shirtless so, take them over there”

· You were in the music room listening to favorite songs, when Belphie walks in, phone in hand.

· He sat next to you and gave you his phone with the picture.

· You look at the picture, while you took of your earphone off.

· Belphie widen eyes when he saw you delete the photo.

· You hand over his phone back, with an angry look on his face grab hold on the phone, but you didn’t let go.

· Instead, you place your other hand over his, rubbing it, he looks back to you.

· You smile and grab his hand, and tell him.

· “Wonder work Belphie, I’m all yours”

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

Epilogue

You were leaning in bed with the winner, the room was peaceful and quiet, you turn over him seeing his calm and happy.

A moment of silent was break by a sound from your D.D.D, you grab it and got out of bed, you bend over to kiss him on top of his head, and told him that you were going to the bathroom, he sleepy nod, then you walk out.

You close the door of the bathroom, and see how texted you.

Solomon

That was really daring of you to ask them that.

I told you, I’ll get you back

But I didn’t expect him to that.

I always make things hard for your “champion”

You really did, but that not what a reply to you.

Oh! What is it

I want to thank you

Thank me for what, I gave him a hard time, well hard time for him.

Exactly, he when so far to get a picture of you Shirtless.

He was confused at first but I show him that I don’t need a picture of some else.

So, Thank you, Solomon I got a Boyfriend out of it.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me Belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me reader x lucifer #obey me reader x mammon #obey me reader x leviathan #obey me reader x satan #obey me reader x asmodeus #obey me reader x beelzebub #obey me reader x belphegor #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

[miekasa]

break up with your boyfriend, i’m bored

+ pairings: um… armin x reader…. but, spotlight on jean—just... read it to understand, please

+ genres and warnings: college au what’s new, fluff… you’re just going to have to work with me and trust me on this one alright

+ notes: free colt he ain’t do nothing wrong i just needed someone outside of their immediate friend group to blame i am so sorry justice for my boy colt and falco too

+ more notes: longer levi fic still in progress, so have jean thee comedian in the meantime

“I think I have a crush on someone.”

Jean crosses his arms and makes it a point to huff even louder than before so that you can accurately assess his annoyance at moment; going so far as to slump back into your not so comfortable couch to really sell it.

“And that is why you manhandled me all the way to your apartment on a Tuesday afternoon?” he asks, voice flat and eyes hooded.

You groan and roll your eyes. Jean’s eyebrows are pinched together with more judgement than confusion at your current state of distress when you sit next to him on the sofa, a knee bent in his direction.

“Jeanie, I don’t think you’re understanding the severity of my issue.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” he drawls, “But, please, do enlighten me. It’s not like I have an essay to write or anything.”

“I have a crush,” you reiterate, hands mapping out every syllable in your sentence, “On someone who is not my boyfriend.”

“I see,” he nods, but his voice remains flat, “And, pray tell, what exactly is my role in all of this?”

“You’re supposed to use your philosophical psychoanalytical bullshit to tell me what’s wrong with me and how to fix it.”

“Philosophy and psychology are two different disciplines.”

“They sound the same to me.”

“That’s because you’re a single-celled chem major.”

“I think it takes more than a single cell to study chem.”

“Oh, is that what they tell you guys, now?”

“You’re not fucking helping.”

“Yes, I am,” he tuts, “It’s called talk therapy.”

“It sounds like you’re just taking shots at me.”

“Best friend talk therapy allows for a few digs here and there.”

“Jean,” you pinch his arm. He flinches, and yelps loudly, immediately raising the affected arm to counter with a flick to the center of your forehead. You glare, the palm of your left hand covering the sting on your skin, but concede, “Well played.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “I learned from the best.”

“Okay, now that you’ve gotten your ego boost for the day, can we worry about my problem, please.”

He shrugs, crossing resting his left ankle atop his right knee, “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“What exactly is the problem, again?”

You sigh, and lean your head on Jean’s shoulder, “I have a boyfriend—”

“We’ve been over that.”

“—and the person I have a crush on is not my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he pauses, “Are you going to do anything about this crush?”

“Well, I… no,” you ponder, “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” he repeats, “So, then why are you so worked up about it?”

“Because!... Because… I don’t know, it’s… wrong? I’m in a relationship with someone else—isn’t this, like, emotional cheating?”

“Maybe,” he says, “I don’t know a whole lot about relationship psychology.”

“Come on, Jean.”

He sighs, “I’m serious, I don’t know, (_____).”

You whine, sounds muffled by the fabric of Jean’s sweater where your cheek lay pressed against his shoulder. “I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?”

“You’re not, stop it,” Jean answers firmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “You’re not horrible for having emotions that are difficult to work through.”

“Okay, then, I’m just a horrible girlfriend.”

“Maybe.”

“Jean.”

“Sorry,” he winces, patting your head for extra encouragement. It’s meant to be comforting, but it makes you feel like a patronized six-year-old, at best. It’s quiet for a while, with you mulling over Jean’s words, and him trying to pull you into the worst side hug in all of existence.

“Do you think,” you break the silence, “Maybe I should I break up with him?”

“Yes,” his answer comes too quickly, and much too enthusiastically.

You lift your head from his shoulder, unamused, but Jean doesn’t even try to hide the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t like him.”

“No,” he pauses when he catches glimpse of the disbelief on your face, “Okay, yes, I don’t like him. At all.”

“Jean—”

“But maybe this is your subconscious telling you that you don’t like him either, and that you should, instead, go after your crush.”

“Oh, so now you want to use your psychobullshit on me?”

“If it means I don’t have to pretend to like Colt anymore, then yes,” he replies, a stupid, shit-eating grin on his lips.

You scoff, arms crossed against your chest, “You don’t even pretend to like him now.”

Jean shrugs, “I pretend to like him to his face.”

“No, you don’t,” you insist, “You’re probably the worst at it, in fact.”

“I’m not worse than Connie.”

“You called him an asshole. To his face.”

“Connie poured tequila on him.”

“Connie was drunk. You were completely sober.”

“Connie would have done it sober and you know it.”

You open your mouth to refuse, but the words fall silent in your throat. Connie probably would have done it sober. “Okay, fine, whatever, you don’t like him,” you wave away the subject, “Do you really think this crush is my subconscious telling me to break up with him, though? I mean—it’s just, crushes are kind of fleeting right?”

“Sure, but—”

“What if I break up with him, and then I get over my crush, and realize I made a mistake.”

“Then you learn and grow, and find a new crush.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he insists, “You’re beating yourself up pretty bad over this mystery guy—”

“—It could be a girl.”

“Is it a girl? Oh, is it Mikasa? Are you still hung up over her—you know I’m sure she’d make out with you asked. I think you both could relieve a lot of tension that way, actually.”

“You’re the worst person to walk this planet, you know that?” you sneer, annoyed by the smug grin on Jean’s face. So what if you had a tiny crush on Mikasa? Most people did, Jean included.

“Look,” Jean continues, “You and I both know you’re not a cheater, but you and I also know you’re just like Eren when it comes to things like this.”

“Just like Eren?”

“Falls too fast, too hard,” he clarifies, “I get the feeling you’ve had these feelings for a while, and that they’re not fleeting.”

You pout, and Jean knows that he’s right. “Okay, so say I do break up with Colt—”

“Which you should do, regardless.”

“—If we break up, then what? I still won’t know what to do with my left over grief. It’s not like I can just... go ask this guy out right away.”

“Yes, you can,” Jean presses, “In fact, you should.”

“No, I can’t,” you insist.

“Why not?”

“Well for one, I’ll look like a heartless whore.”

“You’re not a heartless whore for asking a guy out.”

“I am if I do it right after breaking up with my boyfriend.”

“Your internalized misogyny is showing,” he sing-songs, “Come on, you’re not a whore for doing what you want with a guy, you know that.”

“Okay, fine, not a whore, whatever,” you roll your eyes, “But I still couldn’t ask him out.”

“It’s the twenty first century, just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you can’t ask him—”

“Not because of that, dumb goose,” you glare, “I meant because—it’s, well, it’d be really sudden and kind of… awkward?”

“It’s not like he’d know you just broke up with someone, unless that’s one of your conversation starters.”

You sigh, a hand on your forehead. “Yes, he would, Jean.”

“How could he possibly—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mock, a heavy sigh leaving your chest as you resume your previous sulking position, head leaning against his shoulder with your right cheek squished against his sweater.

“(_____), I’m honored, but you’re not really my type. I’d be willing to help you get over him though.”

“It’s not you, you fucking long-necked pigeon, it’s Arm—,” you cut yourself short, hands clamped over your own mouth.

“Oh my god!” Jean all but screams, propelling his body away from you with just enough distance to extend his arm, finger pointing directly at your chest, “You like Armin!”

“Shut up!”

“You have a crush on Armin!”

“Shut up, Jean!”

“You have a big, fat crush on Armin!”

“Shut up! I said shut up, you pasty fucking giraffe looking ass bitch!”

“Oh my—okay, you have to break up with Colt, immediately,” Jean rushes, “I can’t believe this—if you think Armin wouldn’t go out with you, then you really do have the intelligence of a single celled organism.”

“What in the ever loving fuck are you talking about.”

“We’re talking about the same Armin, right? Armin Arlert, about this tall,” Jean raises his hand significantly lower than Armin’s actual height, “Studies astrophysics, follows you around like a lap dog—”

“He does not,” you scoff.

Jean guffaws, “Didn’t he take you on a tour of, like… the NASA museum for your birthday? With the super high-tech planetarium that people die to get into?”  

“Actually, it was their headquarters, but it’s only because he gets special privileges for being an intern.”

“Didn’t he name a star after you?”

“Anyone can name a star after anyone,” you roll your eyes, “It’s really not that hard.”

“People do not fucking go to NASA and ask for stars for just anyone!” Jean screeches, hands flailing wildly.

“Armin does!”

“Yeah, for you!” Jean emphasizes, “Come on, do you think if anybody else called him right now and asked him to get a star in their name, or even just fucking take them to headquarters of the most renowned space organization in the country, that he would actually do it?”

“I mean, maybe, if like… Eren asked.”

Jean opens his mouth to refute, but freezes half way with a head-tilt and pursed lips. “Okay, yeah, maybe—whatever, doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to tell him.”

“I don’t need to tell him shit.”

“You’re seriously choosing Colt over Armin? Who willingly stays with some greasy prick with the world’s most annoying younger brother, over a handsome, straight-A astrophysics student with a penchant for marine biology, and, like, really clear skin.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know Bertholdt was studying astro.”

“I wasn’t talking about Bertholdt.”

“It sounded like you were talking about Bertholdt.”

“I mean, Bertholdt’s got great skin, but it’s no where near as clear as Armin’s. He glows.”

It’s quiet again, as you eye Jean with a raised brow that’s all too familiar. “Are we sure that you’re not the one with the crush on Armin?”

“Shut up, you’re avoiding the point.”

“What’s the point, exactly?”

“That you’re in love with Armin, who is miles better than your current boy toy, so you should ask him out immediately.”

“I have a boyfriend, not a boy toy.”

“Ah ha!” he yells, “You didn’t deny that you’re in love with him—oh my god, you’re in love with Armin!”

He’s standing now, practically bouncing off the the walls at the revelation. You take to smacking him with the nearest pillow. “I’m not in love with him! I just—just really like him, okay!”

“Very convincing.”

“Shut the hell up, you’ve been pining after you know who for seven eons at this point.”

“You bitch,” he growls, “We’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“Well, you keep bringing up Armin!”

“We never established that Armin was on the list of he’s who shall not be named.”

“Well I vote that he should be.”

“Your vote has been vetoed,” he grins, “Look, I’m completely serious when I say that Armin is just as in love with you as you deny you are with him.”

“That sentence hurt my head,” you pout, resuming your signature brooding position.

“It’s okay, your single brain cell has been through a lot in the past fifteen minutes,” he pats your head again, earning him a glare that he simply chuckles at, “All it means is that you love Armin, and I assure you that he’s equally, if not more, in love with you.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Now, up, up, up,” he tuts, pulling at your biceps until you’re standing, only to immediately start ushering you to the door, “You have a shitty boyfriend to go break up with.”

“What—Jean, come on, I didn’t mean right now!” you exclaim; but he’s stronger than he looks, and continues to propel your body out of the open door.

“No time to waste!” he insists, “Every hour you stay with Colt you lose another brain cell.”

“I thought I only had one to begin with,” you say, sarcasm evident in your tone.

It makes Jean’s grin triple, “Exactly, so go, not another hour to waste!”

“Jean, wait, I—,” you begin, only to be silenced by the silver door shutting in your face. The lock clicks soon after, and it’s only then you realized what he’s done.

“You knobby kneed bitch, this is my apartment!”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #armin x reader #armin arlet x reader #jean smut #eren smut #armin smut #eren x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines

[moodymelanist]

omg hc idea with gwynriel, where gwyn is really drunk cuz she got back from rita’s with the girls but everyone left already and this is before gwyn and az are like a couple and she’s talking complete nonsense but azriel finds her and is very concerned and tries to help take her to her dorms so she doesnt like fall but while they’re walking gwyn accidentally reveals her feelings towards az

also ps: i really love these thanks for blessing this fandom with your work, appreciate it alot 🥰🥰

omg thank you so much for the kind words, I’m having so much fun writing these and even more fun seeing everyone’s reactions 🥰🥰🥰

okay so modern college au. azriel’s POV. I refuse to believe they’d leave Gwyn behind so I took some liberties with this prompt but I hope you enjoy besties!

Azriel wasn’t expecting Gwyn to be so drunk when he arrived at Rita’s to take her home. He waited outside for a few minutes so he wouldn’t have to pay the cover, and eventually Cassian emerged with Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, and Mor in tow.

“Azriel!” Gwyn squealed. She almost tripped over herself in her haste to give him a hug, but he managed to catch her in time. “You’re here!”

“Yup,” he said. He awkwardly patted her back as she squeezed her arms around him.

Azriel had been getting a late night snack after working on a paper when Cassian had texted asking if he could take Gwyn home. Cassian would have his hands full trying to wrangle Nesta, Emerie, and Mor back safely to his and Mor’s shared apartment, so Azriel hadn’t minded stepping in. He and Gwyn lived in the same apartment building, so it wasn’t like she was out of the way.

Cassian waved in Azriel’s direction before he started walking away towards wherever he’d parked. Nesta was on Cassian’s back piggy-back style and was sloppily pressing kisses onto his neck, which he didn’t seem to mind one bit. Emerie and Mor were giggling as they supported each other, stopping frequently to feel each other up.

“You’re so pretty,” Gwyn said, giggling. Azriel looked down at where she still had her arms wrapped around him in surprise.

“Uh… thank you?” he said hesitantly. She giggled again before stepping back from him, but he made sure to keep an arm firmly around her shoulders so she wouldn’t run off on him. Nesta and Cassian had both complained on several occasions that Gwyn liked to run off when she got drunk, and Azriel valued his life too much to risk losing Gwyn and having to explain it to Nesta.

“I know I’m not supposed to say guys are pretty or whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes to let him know what she thought of that sentiment, “But you’re definitely the prettiest out of you and your brothers.”

Azriel didn’t know what to do under all this scrutiny from Gwyn, especially when she was complimenting his looks. She was way too out of his league to be saying these kinds of things, so he decided to try and deflect. “Don’t let Rhys hear you say that.”

“Rhys, Smhys,” she said as they slowly started walking to where he’d parked about a block away. He made sure not to go too fast since she was wearing heels and was definitely still drunk. “You’ve always been my favorite.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. He was used to being in the background considering how loud Cassian was and how much Rhys loved being the center of attention. To hear her dismiss his brother so easily wasn’t something he was used to; everyone swooned over Rhys.

“Really really,” she said, giggling again. “I’m not just saying that. I mean it.”

They managed to reach his car and he helped her get into the passenger seat, making sure to strap her in before jogging around to the drivers side. It was a short drive back to their building, but Gwyn seemed to have other plans.

“Can we stop at McDonald’s?” she asked, her voice just on the edge of a whine. “I’m hungry.”

“Do you have McDonald’s money?” he asked, half-joking.

He knew he’d fucked up when he looked over at her and saw her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and then she was full on crying next to him.

“I — just — wanted — fries,” Gwyn sobbed, hiccuping between her words.

Not wanting to make it worse, Azriel relented quickly. He really needed to work on talking to women if he wanted a chance with her. “Okay, okay, we can get fries.”

He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder before changing course to the 24/7 McDonald’s a few minutes away. She only really stopped crying once she was munching on a large fry, and he held in his sigh of relief as they eventually made their way to the parking garage of their building.

“Can you walk?” he asked as he parked.

“My feet hurt,” she whined. “Can you carry me?”

This time he didn’t hold in his sigh. He liked Gwyn a lot, but dealing with drunk people wasn’t his favorite thing in the world. “What apartment are you in?”

“I’m on the fourth floor,” she told him.

“So am I,” he said, relieved that he wouldn’t have to walk so far to his own apartment once she was home safely. “I don’t mind carrying you if we’re going to the same place.”

Gwyn smiled brightly and damn if it didn’t transform her entire face into something lovely, even with fresh tear tracks ruining what was left of her makeup. Azriel got out first and made sure to take her keys so she didn’t lose them before bending down to let her climb onto his back.

“You’re my hero,” she said as he walked, nuzzling her face into his neck. She had her heels in one hand and her bag of fries in the other, and he decided to just keep walking until they made it back to her apartment.

“Happy to help,” he said. Inside he his stomach was doing backflips from how close she was to him, especially since he was holding her legs to keep her from slipping off his back.

“I’m serious.” Her breath was warm on his face as she moved to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re being really nice.”

“Am I normally not nice to you?”

“Not as nice as I’d wish you’d be.”

“Ouch, Berdara.”

Gwyn giggled as they got into the elevator. “You’d be nicer if you took me out on a date.”

Azriel froze as the elevator rose to the fourth floor, not quite sure how to respond. She was drunk off her ass and he didn’t want to take advantage of her in the slightest, but what if she was being honest? What if she really did like him back?

“Ask me again when you’re sober,” he said after a minute. He walked off the elevator and found her apartment relatively quickly, used her key to open the door, and gently set her down just inside her living room.

She pouted as she looked at him before munching thoughtfully on a fry. “But I’m asking you now.”

“I’d love to go on a date with you, but you’re drunk,” he replied. His heart was beating hard in his chest as he looked at her and dared to hope she was actually being serious.

“You said yes,” she said, grinning widely. “No takebacksies!”

Azriel sighed again, but it was much more good-natured. He supposed Gwyn just couldn’t help being so adorable when she was drunk, and who was he to ignore a golden opportunity to spend time with his crush? “Alright, Berdara, no takebacksies. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#acotar #acosf #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #anon asks #drunk!Gwyn #Gwynriel prompts #sober!Azriel

[army-of-mai-lovers]

in which I get progressively angrier at the various tropes of atla fandom misogyny

tbh I think it would serve all of us to have a larger conversation about the specific ways misogyny manifests in this fandom, because I’ve seen a lot of people who characterize themselves as feminists, many of whom are women themselves, discuss the female characters of atla/lok in misogynistic ways, and people don’t talk about it enough. 

disclaimer before I start: I’m not a woman, I’m an afab nonbinary person who is semi-closeted and thus often read as a woman. I’m speaking to things that I’ve seen that have made me uncomfy, but if any women (esp women existing along other axes of oppression, e.g. trans women, women of color, disabled women, etc) want to add onto this post, please do!

“This female character is a total badass but I’m not even a little bit interested in exploring her as a human being.” 

I’ve seen a lot of people say of various female characters in atla/lok, “I love her! She’s such a badass!” now, this statement on its own isn’t misogynistic, but it represents a pretty pervasive form of misogyny that I’ve seen leveled in large part toward the canon female love interests of one or both of the members of a popular gay ship (*cough* zukka *cough*) I’m going to use Suki as an example of this because I see it with her most often, but it can honestly be applied to nearly every female character in atla/lok. Basically, people will say that they stan Suki, but when it comes time to engage with her as an actual character, they refuse to do it. I’ve seen meta after meta about Zuko’s redemption arc, but I so rarely see people engage with Suki on any level beyond “look at this cool fight scene!” and yeah, I love a cool Suki fight scene as much as anybody else, but I’m also interested in meta and headcanons and fics about who she is as a person, when she isn’t an accessory to Sokka’s development or doing something cool. of course, the material for this kind of engagement with Suki is scant considering she doesn’t have a canon backstory (yet) (don’t let me down Faith Erin Hicks counting on you girl) but with the way I’ve seen people in this fandom expand upon canon to flesh out male characters, I know y’all have it in you to do more with Suki, and with all the female characters, than you currently do. frankly, the most engagement I’ve seen with Suki in mainstream fandom is justifying either zukki (which again, is characterizing her in relation to male characters, one of whom she barely interacts with in canon) or one of the Suki wlw pairings. which brings me to--

“I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!” 

now, I will admit, two of my favorite atla ships are yueki and mailee, and so I totally understand being interested in these characters’ dynamics, even if, as is the case with yueki, they’ve never interacted canonically. however, it becomes a problem for me when these ships are always in the background of a zukka fic. at some point, it becomes obvious that you like this ship because it gets either Zuko or Sokka’s female love interests out of the way, not because you actually think the characters would mesh well together. It’s bad form to dislike a female character because she gets in the way of your gay ship, so instead, you find another girl to pair her off with and call it a day. to be clear, I’m not saying that everybody who ships either mailee or yueki (or tysuki or maisuki or yumai or whatever other wlw rarepair involving Zuko or Sokka’s canon love interests) is nefariously trying to sideline a female character while acting publicly as if she’s is one of their faves--far from it--but it is noteworthy to me how difficult it is to find content that centers wlw ships, while it’s incredibly easy to find content that centers zukka in which mailee and/or yueki plays a background role. 

also, notice how little traction wlw Katara ships gain in this fandom. when’s the last time you saw yuetara on your dash? there’s no reason for wlw Katara ships to gain traction in a fandom that is so focused on Zuko and Sokka getting together, bc she doesn’t present an immediate obstacle to that goal (at least, not an obstacle that can be overcome by pairing her up with a woman). if you are primarily interested in Zuko and Sokka’s relationship, and your queer readings of other female characters are motivated by a desire to get them out of the way for zukka, then Katara’s canon m/f relationship isn’t a threat to you, and thus, there’s no reason to read her as potentially queer. Or even, really, to think about her at all. 

“Katara’s here but she’s not actually going to do anything, because deep down, I’m not interested in her as a person.” 

the show has an enormous amount of textual evidence to support the claim that Sokka and Katara are integral parts of each other’s lives. so, she typically makes some kind of appearance in zukka content. sometimes, her presence in the story is as an actual character with layers and nuance, someone whom Sokka cares about and who cares about Sokka in return, but also has her own life and goals outside of her brother (or other male characters, for that matter.) sometimes, however, she’s just there because halfway through writing the author remembered that Sokka actually has a sister who’s a huge part of the show they’re writing fanfiction for, and then they proceed to show her having a meetcute with Aang or helping Sokka through an emotional problem, without expressing wants or desires outside of those characters. I’m honestly really surprised that I haven’t seen more people calling out the fact that so much of Katara’s personality in fanon revolves around her connections to men? she’s Aang’s girlfriend, she’s Sokka’s sister, she’s Zuko’s bestie. never mind that in canon she spends an enormous amount of time fighting against (anachronistic, Westernized) sexism to establish herself as a person in her own right, outside of these connections. and that in canon she has such interesting complex relationships with other female characters (e.g. Toph, Kanna, Hama, Korra if you want to write lok content) or that there are a plethora of characters with whom she could have interesting relationships with in fanon (Mai, Suki, Ty Lee, Yue, Smellerbee, and if you want to write lok content, Kya II, Lin, Asami, Senna, etc). to me, the lack of fandom material exploring Katara’s relationships with other women or with herself speak to a profound indifference to Katara as a character. I’m not saying you have to like Katara or include her in everything you write, but I am asking you to consider why you don’t find her interesting outside of her relationships with men.

“I hate Katara because she talks about her mother dying too often.” 

this is something I’ve seen addressed by people far more qualified than I to address it, but I want to mention it here in part because when I asked people which fandom tropes they wanted me to talk about, this came up often, but also because I find it really disgusting that this is a thing that needs to be addressed at all. Y’all see a little girl who watched her mother be killed by the forces of an imperialist nation and say that she talks about it too much??? That is a formational, foundational event in a child’s life. Of course she’s going to talk about it. I’ve seen people say that she doesn’t talk about it that often, or that she only talks about it to connect with other victims of fn imperialism e.g. Jet and Haru, but frankly, she could speak about it every episode for no plot-significant reason whatsoever and I would still be angry to see people say she talks about it too much. And before you even bring up the Sokka comparison, people deal with grief in different ways. Sokka  repressed a lot of his grief/channeled it into being the “man” of his village because he knew that they would come for Katara next if he gave them the opportunity. he probably would talk about his mother more if a) he didn’t feel massive guilt at not being able to remember what she looked like, and b) he was allowed to be a child processing the loss of his mother instead of having to become a tiny adult when Hakoda had to leave to help fight the fn. And this gets into an intersection with fandom racism, in that white fans (esp white American fans) are incapable of relating to the structural trauma that both Sokka and Katara experience and thus can’t see the ways in which structural trauma colors every single aspect of both of their characters, leading them to flatten nuance and to have some really bad takes. And you know what, speaking of bad fandom takes--   

“Shitting on Mai because she gets in the way of my favorite Zuko ship is actually totally okay because she’s ~abusive~” 

y’all WHAT. 

ok listen, I get not liking maiko. I didn’t like it when I first got into fandom, and later I realized that while bryke cannot write romance to save their lives, fans who like maiko sure can, so I changed my tune. but if you still don’t like it, that’s fine. no skin off my back. 

what IS skin off my back is taking instances in which Mai had justified anger toward Zuko, and turning it into “Mai abused Zuko.” do you not realize how ridiculous you sound? this is another thing where I get so angry about it that I don’t know how useful my analysis is actually going to be, but I’ll do my best. numerous people have noted how analysis of Mai and Zuko’s breakup in “The Beach” or Mai being justifiably angry with him at Boiling Rock or her asking for FUCKING FRUIT in “Nightmares and Daydreams” that says that all of these events were her trying to gain control over him is....ahhh...lacking in reading comprehension, but I’d like to go a step further and talk about why y’all are so intent on taking down a girl who doesn’t show emotion in normative ways. obviously, there’s a “Zuko can do no wrong” aspect to Mai criticism (which is super weird considering how his whole arc is about how he can do lots of wrong and he has to atone for the wrong that he’s done--but that’s a separate post.) But I also see slandering Mai for not expressing her emotions normatively and not putting up with Zuko’s shit and slandering Katara for “talking about her mother too often” as two sides of the same coin. In both cases, a female character expresses emotions that make you, the viewer, uncomfortable, and so instead of attempting to understand where those emotions may have come from and why they might be manifesting the way they are, y’all just throw the whole character away. this is another instance of people in the fandom being fundamentally disinterested in engaging with the female characters of atla in a real way, except instead of shallowly “stanning” Mai, y’all hate her. so we get to this point where female characters are flattened into one of two things: perfect queens who can do no wrong, or bitches. and that’s not who they are. that’s not who anyone is. but while we as a fandom are pretty good at understanding b1 Zuko’s actions as layered and multifaceted even though he’s essentially an asshole then, few are willing to lend the same grace to any female character, least of all Mai. 

and what’s funny is sometimes this trope will intersect with “I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”, so you’ll have someone actively calling Mai toxic/problematic/abusive, and at the same time ship her with Ty Lee? make it make sense! but then again, maybe that’s happening because y’all are fundamentally disinterested in Ty Lee as a character too. 

“I love Ty Lee so much that I’m going to treat her like an infantilized hypersexual airhead!” 

there are so many things happening in y’alls characterization of Ty Lee that I struggled to synthesize it into one quippy section header. on one hand, you have the hypersexualization, and on the other hand, you have the infantilization, which just makes the hypersexualization that much worse. 

(of course, sexualizing or hypersexualizing ANY atla character is really not the move, considering that these are child characters in a children’s show, but then again, that’s a separate post.) 

now, I understand how, from a very, very surface reading of the text, you could come to the conclusion that Ty Lee is an uncomplicated bimbo. if you grew up on Western media the way I did, you’ll know that Ty Lee has a lot of the character traits we associate with bimbos: the form-fitting pink crop top, the general conventional attractiveness, the ditzy dialogue. but if you think about it for more than three seconds, you’ll understand that Ty Lee has spent her whole life walking a tightrope, trying to please Azula and the rest of the royal family while also staying true to herself. Ty Lee and Azula’s relationship is a really complex and interesting topic that I don’t really have time to explore at the moment given how long this post is, but I’d argue that Ty Lee’s constant, vocal  adulation is at least partially a product of learning to survive at court at an early age. Like Mai, she has been forced to regulate her emotions as a member of fn nobility, but unlike Mai, she also has six sisters who look exactly like her, so she has a motivation to be more peppy and more affectionate to stand out. 

fandom does not do the work to understand Ty Lee. as is a theme with this post, fandom is actively disinterested in investigating female characters beyond a very surface level reading of them. Thus, fandom takes Ty Lee’s surface level qualities--her love of the color pink, her revealing standard outfit, and the fact that once she found a boy attractive and also once a lot of boys found her attractive--and they stretch this into “Ty Lee is basically Karen Smith from Mean Girls.” thus, Ty Lee is painted as a bimbo, or more specifically, as not smart, uncritically adoring of Azula (did y’all forget all the non-zukka bits of Boiling Rock?), and attractive to the point of hypersexualization. I saw somebody make a post that was like “I wish mailee was more popular but I’m also glad it isn’t because otherwise people would write it as Mai having to put up with her dumb gf” and honestly I have to agree!! this is one instance in which I’m glad that fandom doesn’t discuss one of my favorite characters that often because I hate the fanon interpretation of Ty Lee, I think it’s rooted in misogyny (particularly misogyny against East Asian women, which often takes the form of fetishizing them and viewing them only through a Western white male gaze)  

(side note: here at army-of-mai-lovers, we stan bimbos. bimbos are fucking awesome. I personally don’t read Ty Lee as a bimbo, but if that’s you, that’s fucking awesome. keep doing what you’re doing, queen <3 or king or monarch, it’s 2021, anyone can be a bimbo, bitches <3)

“Toph can and will destroy everyone here with her bare hands because she’s a meathead who likes to murder people and that’s it!”  

Toph is, and always has been, one of my favorite ATLA characters. My very first fic in fandom was about her, and she appears prominently in a lot of my other work as well. One thing that I am always struck by with Toph is how big a heart she has. She’s independent, yes, snarky, yes, but she cares about people--even the family that forced her to make herself smaller because they didn’t believe that their blind daughter could be powerful and strong. Her storyline is powerful and emotionally resonant, her bending is cool precisely because it’s based in a “wait and listen” approach instead of just smashing things indiscriminately, she’s great disabled rep, and overall one of the best characters in the show. 

And in fandom, she gets flattened into “snarky murder child.” 

So where does this come from? Well, as we all know, Toph was originally conceived of as a male character, and retained a lot of androgyny (or as the kids call it, Gender) when she was rewritten as a female character. There are a lot of cultural ideas about androgynous/butch women being violent, and people in fandom seem to connect that larger cultural narrative with some of Toph’s more violent moments in the show to create the meathead murder child trope, erasing her canon emotionality, softness, heart, and femininity in the process. 

This is not to say that you shouldn’t write or characterize Toph as being violent or snarky at all ever, because yeah, Toph definitely did do Earth Rumbles a lot before joining the gaang, and yeah, Toph is definitely a sarcastic person who makes fun of her friends a lot. What I am saying is that people take these traits, sans the emotional logic, marry them to their conception of androgynous/butch women as violent/unemotional/uncaring, and thus create a caricature of Toph that is not at all up to snuff. When I see Toph as a side character in a fic (because yeah, Toph never gets to be a main character, because why would a fandom obsessed with one male character in particular ever make Toph a protagonist in her own right?) she’s making fun of people, killing people, pranking people, etc, etc. She’s never talking to people about her emotions, or palling around with her found family, or showing that she cares about her friends. Everything about her relationship with her parents, her disability, her relationship to Gender, and her love of her friends is shoved aside to focus on a version of Toph that is mean and uncaring because people have gotten it into their heads that androgynous/butch women are mean and uncaring. 

again, we see a female character who does not emote normatively or in a way that makes you, the viewer, comfortable, and so you warp her character until she’s completely unrecognizable and flat. and for what? 

Azula

no, I didn’t come up with a snappy name for this section, mainly because fanon interpretations of Azula and my own feelings toward the character are...complicated. I know there were some people who wanted me to write about Azula and the intersection of misogyny and ableism in fanon interpretations of her character, but I don’t think I can deliver on that because I personally am in a period of transition with how I see Azula. that is to say, while I still like her and believe that she can be redeemed, there is a lot of merit to disliking her. the whole point of this post is that the female characters of ATLA are complex people whom the fandom flattens into stereotypes that don’t hold up to scrutiny, or dislike for reasons that don’t make sense. Azula, however, is a different case. the rise of Azula defenders and Azula stans has led to this sentiment that Azula is a 14 y/o abuse victim who shouldn’t be held accountable for her actions. it seems to me that people are reacting to a long, horrible legacy of male ATLA fans armchair diagnosing Azula with various personality disorders (and suggesting that people with those personality disorders are inherently monstrous and unlovable which ahhhh....yikes) and then saying that those personality disorders make her unlovable, which is quite obviously bad. and hey, I get loving a character that everyone else hates and maybe getting so swept up in that love that you forget that your fave is complicated and has made some unsavory choices. it sucks that fanon takes these well-written, complex villains/antiheroes and turns them into monsters with no critical thought whatsoever. but the attitude among Azula stans that her redemption shouldn’t be hard, that her being a child excuses all of the bad things that she’s done, that she is owed redemption....all of that rubs me the wrong way. I might make another post about this in the future that discusses this in more depth, but as it stands now: while I understand that there is a legacy of misogynistic, ableist, unnuanced takes on Azula, the backlash to that does not take into account the people she hurt or the fact that in ATLA she does not make the choice to pursue redemption. and yes, Zuko had help in making that choice that Azula didn’t, and yes, Azula is a victim of abuse, but in a show about children who have gone through untold horrors and still work to better the lives of the people around them, that is not enough for me to uncritically stan her. 

Conclusion    

misogyny in this fandom runs rampant. while there are some tropes of fandom misogyny that are well-documented and have been debunked numerous times, there are other, subtler forms of misogyny that as far as I know have gone completely unchecked. 

what I find so interesting about misogyny in atla fandom is that it’s clear that it’s perpetrated by people who are aware of fandom misogyny who are actively trying not to be misogynistic. when I first joined atla fandom last summer, memes about how zukka fandom was better than every other fandom because they didn’t hate the female characters who got in the way of their gay ship were extremely prevalent, and there was this sense that *this* fandom was going to model respectful, fun, feminist online fandom. not all of the topes I’ve outlined are exclusive to or even largely utilized in zukka fandom, but a lot of them are. I’ve been in and out of fandom since I was eleven years old, and most of the fandom spaces I’ve been in have been majority-female, and all of them have been incredibly misogynistic. and I always want to know why. why, in these communities created in large part by women, in large part for women, does misogyny run wild? what I realize now is that there’s never going to be a one-size fits all answer to that question. what’s true for 1D fandom on Wattpad in 2012 is absolutely not true for atla fandom on tumblr in 2021. the answers that I’ve cobbled together for previous fandoms don’t work here. 

so, why is atla fandom like this? why did the dream of a feminist fandom almost entirely focused on the romantic relationship between two male characters fall apart? honestly, I think the notion that zukka fandom ever was this way was horrifically ignorant to begin with. from my very first moment in the fandom, I was seeing racism, widespread sexualization of minors, and yes, misogyny. these aspects of the fandom weren’t talked about as much as the crocverse or other, much more fun aspects. further, atla (specifically zukka) fandom misogyny often doesn’t look like the fandom misogyny we’ve become familiar with from like, Sherlock fandom or what have you. for the most part, people don’t actively hate Suki, they just “stan” without actually caring about her. they hate Mai because they believe in treating male victims of abuse equally. they’re not characterizing Toph poorly, they’re writing her as a “strong woman.” in short, people are misogynistic, and then invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of feminist theory to shield themselves from accusations of misogyny. it’s not unlike the way some people will invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of critical race theory to shield themselves from accusations of racism, or how they’ll talk about “freedom of speech” and “the suppression of women’s sexuality” to justify sexualizing minors. the performance of feminism and antiracism is what’s important, not the actual practice. 

if you’ve made it this far, first off, hi, thanks so much for reading, I know this was a lot. second, I would seriously encourage you to be aware of these fandom tropes and to call them out when you see them. elevate the voices of fans who do the work of bringing the female characters of atla to life. invest in the wlw ships in this fandom. drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic (please, drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic). read some yuetara. let’s all be honest about where we are now, and try to do better in the future. I believe in us. 

#fandom crit #longpost #like seriously long post strap in #misogyny #death tw #murder tw #abuse cw #sexualization of minors #ableism #racism #fandom racism #zukka crit #swearing tw #suki #yue #katara #ty lee #mai #toph #azula

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 05

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.6k [5/6]

notes: second to last installment of a fic that didn’t need to be as long as it is!!! really this entire thing can be summed up with last chapter’s warning, which was “reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty.” i stand by it, okay!!! 🤷🏻‍♀️

warnings: dumb banter, a couple brief smutty bits, oral (f receiving), listen to slow dancing in the dark by joji during the soft smut scene in the middle if u want 

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

“No. No. God, no. Has your music taste always been this bad, or is this a recent development?”

“You will excuse yourself,” you retort sharply, wagging a finger at your brother. “Mr. Brightside is a classic and I will not hear this slander. Please feel free to permanently vacate the premises if you disagree.”

Jimin rolls his eyes from where he’s slouched on the couch beside you, one hand submerged in a bag of chips and his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic? Really? You wanna go there, Chim?” You raise your hand and begin ticking off on your fingers. “I’m not the one who threw a fit over a piece of cilantro in my taco. I’m not the one who refused to bathe when Mom couldn’t find the right bubble bath.”

“Oh my god, I was eight,” Jimin snorts. “Both times. And cilantro tastes like soap.”

You raise a third finger. “What about the time you hid all the Monopoly money because you kept losing? Or when yo—”

A knock on the door cuts you off mid-sentence, and you nudge Jimin’s shin with your big toe. “Go get the door,” you order, and you aren’t sure if he’s just tired of hearing your voice, but he stands up without complaint and wanders into the entryway to receive your unexpected guest.

“Hey,” you hear him say. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” a very familiar voice replies. “I need some help.”

It’s Jungkook. Of course it’s Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since he dropped you off and kissed you senseless in your driveway, but you’d have to be delusional to think that you could avoid him for the next week and a half before you leave to return to Seoul. And yet, you allowed yourself to indulge in your delusions for two full days, before he tears them apart with ten simple, innocent words.

“So, I think I might have done the laundry wrong.”

Jimin laughs out loud, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s all you, Noona,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at you, and you don’t even have wherewithal to lecture him about the sexism of his remark because Jungkook is smirking like he’s just won the lottery and you’re his grand prize.

“Noona?” he begins, his voice syrupy sweet and thick with intent. “Can you come help me?”

You glance down at your pajamas—gray sweatpants and a pink Pusheen t-shirt that’s a couple sizes too big. It’s beyond obvious that you have no plans for the day, and therefore no excuse not to help. Heaving a resigned sigh, you clamber to your feet and roll your eyes when Jimin immediately flops down across the newly abandoned couch and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Have fun,” he calls lazily as you walk out, and you do your best to ignore the wicked grin that flashes across Jungkook’s face.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he says as he lets you pass by him to exit the house. “See you later, Jimin.”

As soon as the front door slams shut, you round on him with a glare. “Are you serious, Jungkook?” you hiss. “He’s totally going to catch on to… to whatever it is we’re doing.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Jungkook chides, clicking his tongue. He hops over the low bushes that divide your property, and waits patiently as you skirt around them. You follow him into his house—down the hallway and into a little side room that houses the washing machine and dryer—and as soon as the door swings shut, he’s grabbing you by the hips and pulling you close.

“This—this isn’t how you do laundry,” you stammer weakly, winded by his sudden proximity and the dark promise in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I may have lied a little bit. Would you have come if I hadn’t?”

You don’t answer, because you know he’s right. If you had your way, you would have avoided him until it was time for you to leave again. But Jungkook just doesn’t seem to be willing to let that happen, as he tightens his grip on your hips and tugs until you’re flush against him.

“See, the truth of the matter is, I’m actually good at laundry.” He smirks and tilts his head, dark bangs flopping across his forehead. “I’m good at other things, too. Why don’t you let me show you?”

Attraction blooms in your belly, hot as molten lava, and it takes the last ounce of your wavering restraint to say what you say next. “We can’t take too long,” you whisper, letting him hoist you up onto the dryer and jab the start button. The machine rumbles to life beneath you, and you nearly lose your train of thought when the vibrations go straight to your clit. “Jimin!” you gasp. “Jimin—he’ll kill you if he finds out. He’ll fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Why are you talking about your brother? Is this your idea of dirty talk, princess? Because I gotta tell you—it’s not doing it for me.”

“Jungkook!” you chide, and he grins and moves to tug off your shirt.

“That’s much better.”

///

In the days that follow your laundry room tryst with Jungkook, sneaking around becomes routine. Both of your parents work—as do his—so avoiding them is easy. Jimin, however, is a different story. The dance classes he teaches are irregular, and the schedule shifts often enough that you’ve come dangerously close to getting caught on more than one occasion.

And it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook has taken to texting you at all hours of the day, even when you’re eating a sandwich on the couch with Jimin half-sprawled across your lap in his effort to invade your personal space as much as possible.

[12:35pm] Jungkook: hey i just thought of something

[12:35pm] Jungkook: you know how i call you princess?

You nearly throw your phone across the room. Cautiously, you glance at your brother, who is glued to the television and doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

[12:36pm] You: yeah…

His response is instantaneous.

[12:36pm] Jungkook: well i’ve got a throne for you to sit on

You almost sigh out loud. Please don’t, you write back, and you practically hear Jungkook’s cackle in your head as the ellipses that indicate he’s typing pop up at the bottom of your screen.

[12:37pm] Jungkook: it’s my dick ;)

[12:37pm] Jungkook: get it?

I fucking hate you, you tell him, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

[12:38pm] Jungkook: and i love fucking you

[12:38pm] Jungkook: princess ;)

///

After nearly a week cooped up at your parents’ house, you’re getting restless. Without a car, you’re confined to the suburban neighborhood you grew up in, and the revelation that you’re bored somehow spills out to Jungkook during one of the many heated makeout sessions you’ve started having in the backseat of his sedan.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he’d asked, tilting his head curiously, mussed hair falling across his eyes. “I can drive you, if you want.”

And that’s how you find yourself wandering around downtown Busan on a beautiful Tuesday afternoon. Jungkook drops you off at the curb after cumming down your throat, and now that he’s dashed off to work the lunch shift at the restaurant, you’re free to explore all of your old haunts. The shopping center that you and your friends used to frequent is right around the corner, so that’s where you decide to start. After all, you’re still in need of some professional attire, and as much as you love your mom, you’d rather avoid the unflattering dresses and itchy pantyhose she would be sure to seek out.

As soon as you step through the glass revolving doors, you find yourself in a familiar air-conditioned paradise of shops and restaurants. Stopping at your favorite coffee spot, you treat yourself to an iced mocha before heading to the first store.

Two hours and three full bags later, you decide to head to the food court for a quick snack. You’d promised Jungkook that you’d meet him at the restaurant once you were finished, but a glance at your phone tells you that you have more than enough time to stop by Kim’s Kitchen. Mrs. Kim makes the best cookies in the entire city, as far as you’re concerned, and you decide to order a dozen to take home and share with your family.

You’re lowering yourself into a seat at one of the many tables scattered around the tree-lined atrium when you spot a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair. The owner spots you a split second later, and you return her smile as she immediately swerves and heads your way. “{Name}, hey!”

“Hey, Chaeyoung,” you greet, gesturing for her to take the chair on the other side of the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, from the looks of it.” She grins and hefts her shopping bag. “I swear I’ve been to every shoe store and still haven’t found what I’m looking for, but somehow I’ve bought this much crap anyway. What about you? What are you on the hunt for?”

“Professional attire,” you say with a grimace. “Why are pants so hard to find? I swear, they’re all either too long or too short, and never fit properly in the waist and thighs.”

Chaeyoung pulls a face. “Ew, I know. Pantsuits are a nightmare unless you have a tailor. And who has money for that?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what are you up to now? Mrs. Kim has cookies fresh out of the oven, if you’re interested. Cinnamon rolls too, I think.”

“Ooh, that’s tough,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Would it be bad if I got both?”

“Not even a little bit,” you assure, reaching into your box and pulling out a cookie. “But here, I’ll make it easier for you. Hope you like chocolate chip.”

Chaeyoung gratefully accepts the cookie you hand over. “Who doesn’t love chocolate chip?” she asks, taking a bite.

“Criminals and heathens,” you reply, snagging a cookie for yourself. “Among others.”

She tilts her head. “Doesn’t Jimin hate chocolate chip?”

“My point exactly.”

Chaeyoung giggles, hiding it behind a manicured hand, and you laugh right along with her. Together, you decide to grab some smoothies, and when you sit back down, the conversation turns to your trip up to the lake house. “Next time, we’ll have to do a girl’s trip,” Chaeyoung says, propping her chin in her palm. “Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done one. You must’ve been exhausted with all those boys around.”

Unwillingly, your thoughts turn to Jungkook. “It wasn’t that bad,” you say slowly. “It was actually nice, being able to spend some time with them.”

“Who ended up going, anyway? Your brother, obviously. Taehyung? Yugyeom?”

You nod, raising a hand and ticking them off on your fingers. “Jimin, yeah. Taehyung, Yugyeom, Taemin, Minho. And Jungkook.”

If Chaeyoung notices the way you pause before saying the last name, she doesn’t comment on it. Her expression grows pensive, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head as she considers her next sentence. “You must be seeing a lot of him,” she says at last. “Jungkook, I mean.”

You take a massive sip of your smoothie and wonder if you’re imagining the lingering taste of him on your tongue. “Yeah, a bit,” you manage, your voice surprisingly steady. “He games with Jimin a lot.” After a pause, you decide to tell her the truth. “He dropped me off today, actually. Jimin’s working this summer, and I’ve been stuck at home, so he offered to take me downtown on his way to work.”

Chaeyoung hums thoughtfully. “He’s working at a restaurant or something, right?”

“Just a few streets away, yeah.”

Slowly, she nods. “We went out, you know.” Her voice is distant. “Just for a few weeks. He ended it after… well, after we slept together.”

There’s a pause, as Chaeyoung lets you digest this information, and a part of you wants to spill everything to her right then and there. Jisoo told me, you want to say, as acidic guilt begins to bubble up in your belly, every memory of the moments you’ve since shared with Jungkook rising unpleasantly in your throat. I’m sorry. I’m so,so sorry. You say it over and over again in your head, but the apology gets stuck in your throat when you try to voice it aloud.

Chaeyoung takes a sip of her smoothie and leans back in her chair with a sigh, oblivious to your internal struggle. “Maybe I should have seen it coming,” she says, gnawing on the end of the straw. “Everything changed our senior year, you know? It was like a switch had flipped—he started dating around, relationships that never lasted more than a week… I really should have known better when he asked me out. But I guess I thought I was different. We were already friends, after all. But whenever we were together, just the two of us, he was always… distant. Like he was somewhere else, mentally.”

Her words trail off, leaving only silence that you don’t know how to break. Chaeyoung sips at her smoothie again, before huffing out a laugh and waving a manicured hand in your direction. “God, sorry! I can’t believe I just started monologuing, ew. Jungkook this, Jungkook that—god. I’m not even mad at him anymore, you know? I just want him to figure his shit out.” Her eyes flit up to you briefly, before skittering back down to where a cookie crumb has landed on the tabletop. “It’s funny, though. Seeing him at Taehyung’s graduation party was probably the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. He almost seemed like himself again.”

You can’t help it—the singular word bubbles up before you can stop it. “Really?”

Chaeyoung nods, her gaze flickering up to meet yours again. “Really. And honestly? I think it was because of you.”

Your heart does a series of backflips in your chest, thudding against the slats of your ribs. You try to respond, try to find the words, but they stick in your dry throat and your smoothie is practically gone at this point. Chaeyoung shrugs, unfazed by your silence, and you watch as she swirls her straw around in the remainder of her own drink. “I don’t know—maybe I’m imagining things. But it always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Didn’t he used to follow you around the playground?”

The memory draws a startled laugh from your lips. “Sure, yeah. But that was in elementary school.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, smiling around her straw. “Still. We never really forget our first crush, do we?”

///

You head over to the restaurant after bidding Chaeyoung goodbye, her words weighing heavy on your mind and your heart. Through the tall glass windows, you can just barely make out Jungkook—looking sharp in a black collared shirt and matching slacks as he greets a table of diners. His smile is warm and his stance is confident, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s grown from that gangly kid you knew back in grade school when you catch the edge of flirtation lingering in his gaze.

The boy who used to follow you around the playground is gone. There’s no doubt in your mind about that. And so, you take a deep breath and walk into the restaurant, doing your best to smile at the host who greets you and asks whether you’d like to sit at a table or the bar.

“Hey, you made it!”

Jungkook strides over with a grin, taking the menu off the host’s hands and leading you over to an empty seat at the bar. “It’s full service, so you can order food here, too,” he explains. “You hungry? Thirsty?”

You glance down at the menu he places on the counter, scanning the lines of text. “Not really, but it smells really good so I might get something to go. And this carbonara sounds really good, actually.”

“It is,” Jungkook confirms. “I’ll go put the order in. You want some water or anything to drink?”

“Water’s good,” you tell him, and he nods before trotting off to do his job. You watch him disappear to the back of the restaurant before reappearing with a tray of glasses, and follow his meandering path through the tables as he disperses drinks and checks on the guests. Somehow, his shoulders manage to look even broader in his black shirt, and you can’t ignore the way they taper into a narrow waist that’s only emphasized by the belt threaded through the loops of his dark slacks.

He’s stopping at the table you first saw him at now, leaning in close when one of the women seated there asks him a question about something on the menu. His smile oozes easy charm, and you can’t help the feeling that flares in your chest when she reaches for the menu and purposely lets her fingertips graze his hand. Frowning, you tear your gaze away and focus on the wood grain of the bar counter. Your eyes zero in on a smattering of water droplets near your left arm, and you’re just about to run a fingertip through them when a voice sounds to your right.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Surprised, you look up and find yourself face-to-face with a man who appears to be in his early thirties. Dark hair is brushed away from his forehead, a stray lock falling into his eyes, and you find yourself momentarily at a loss for words when your brain registers just how handsome he is.

“I—uh. I think Jungkook is going to grab me some water,” you finally manage, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground when you hear the stammer in your voice.

“Ah, you know Jungkook?” The man laughs—a sound that is distinctly reminiscent of a squeaky windshield wiper. “He’s been pretty busy today, so why don’t I grab you that water instead?”

You nod, watching as he fills up a glass from the nozzle below the bar, accepting it when he hands it over. “Thanks.”

“Name’s Seokjin,” the man replies with an easy grin. “What’s yours?”

You return his smile and tell him your name. “Seokjin—Jungkook’s mentioned you a few times, I think. This is your place then, isn’t it?”

Seokjin beams. “Yep! Opened just a few months ago, after we finally sorted out the rat infestation and the asbestos problem in the rafters, and—” He pauses at the dumbfounded look on your face, and several beats pass before another peal of squeaky laughter escapes him. “I’m kidding. One-hundred percent. I promise the whole place is up to snuff.”

“So, I see you’ve met Seokjin.” Jungkook materializes at your side with a glass of water, which he takes a sip out of upon realizing that you already have a drink. “Is he making jokes about the health code again?”

“I would never,” Seokjin sniffs, and you laugh, finding yourself completely at ease for the first time since you entered the restaurant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes good-naturedly and turns his attention back to you. “Your carbonara should be out in a few,” he says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “I’m full of chocolate chip cookies, anyway. Here, you want one? They’re still a little warm.”

Jungkook eyes the box you pull out of your bag hungrily. “Hell yes. I can smell them from here.” Laughing, you push the box toward him and watch as he pulls a cookie out and takes an enormous bite. “Thanks,” he says in between chews, his cheeks puffy. You can’t help but smile when he takes a sip of water to wash it all down, his eyes growing round.

Turning to Seokjin, you offer him a cookie as well, which he declines with a graceful wave. “I should be feeding you, not the other way around,” he remarks. “You got the carbonara, right? I’ll go see if it’s ready.”

With one last glance at the patrons sitting at the bar, Seokjin departs with a promise to be back in five minutes. Jungkook finishes off his cookie, and you’re considering offering him another when a familiar chirpy voice sounds from your left.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here! What do you think—should we sit at the bar?”

You whirl in the direction of the voice, your eyes immediately landing on a group of three girls standing near the entrance. Two of them you don’t recognize, but the third you’ve seen before. Mina, you’re pretty sure her name was, and you’d recognize her anywhere. The last time you’d seen her was at the restaurant on the night of Jimin’s and Jungkook’s graduation, and your face heats at the memory of everything else that transpired that night.

“Welcome!” Jungkook draws you out of your thoughts, and you turn to see that he’s wearing a bright, welcoming smile. “Were you looking to sit at the bar, or at a table? It looks like there are a few empty spots at the end of the bar, if you ladies would prefer that. Otherwise, I can take you to a table.”

Mina’s face lights up in recognition, and you’re forced to hide your scowl in your water glass. “Hey, we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“You work at that place a few blocks down, right?” Jungkook jabs a thumb in the general direction of the street. “I’ve seen you around.”

She giggles and tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “That’s right, yeah! I remember you now. Graduation, right? You were my best table of the night.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I bet you tell everyone that.”

“Not a chance,” Mina answers, looking him up and down before a coy smile curves her lips again. “I only say what I mean.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” Jungkook says agreeably. Then he turns to you, distractedly fiddling with his apron as he speaks. “Jin should probably be back with your food soon. Are you okay to sit here by yourself for a bit?”

You can only nod, still staring down into your water glass. “Yeah, sure. Go on, then.”

He smiles and gestures for Mina and the girls to follow after him, and you’re positive you don’t imagine the triumphant look that flashes across Mina’s face before she departs. Frowning, you grab a cookie from your box and break a piece off, grateful for the distraction. Seokjin drops off your carbonara a minute later, and you find yourself suddenly ravenous as you dig into the steaming bowl of spaghetti.

Jungkook returns to your side about five minutes later, raking a hand through his hair as he replaces his notebook back in his apron pocket. “Man, I’m beat,” he remarks. “Thank god Mina and her friends didn’t order anything complicated. My brain would’ve exploded.”

“Thank god for that,” you echo dully. Unwillingly, your gaze drifts over to where Mina is now sitting, chatting happily with her friends. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Seeing Mina here, of all places. I mean, what is she even doing here?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but most people go out and have fun on their days off,” Jungkook responds dryly, a grin breaking across his face when you roll your eyes at him. “Or wait… could it be that you’re jealous?”

You scowl. “Don’t be stupid.”

Jungkook just laughs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so he can look you in the eye. “It’s okay,” he says, his thumb brushing softly along the corner of your lips. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, princess.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully you don’t have to. Seokjin returns with a takeout container for you to put your leftovers in, shrugging off your gratitude when you offer it.

“I’m discounting your food, too,” he says, leaving zero room for argument. “Any friend of Jeon’s is a friend of mine.”

Jungkook’s shift ends half an hour later. He turns on his roadtrip playlist on the drive home, and you are more than happy to let the music wash over you, eliminating any need for conversation and drowning out your thoughts.

“See you later, princess,” he says once he’s pulled into your driveway, following your every move as you climb out of the passenger seat.

It sounds like a promise coming from his lips, and you can only nod. “See you.”

///

You’re in the middle of buttering a piece of toast for breakfast the next morning when there’s a knock on the front door. Perturbed, you walk over to answer it, wondering if perhaps Jimin has forgotten his keys again, but when you peer through the peephole it isn’t Jimin who stares back at you.

“Jungkook—” you begin, swinging open the door, but he cuts you off before you can finish, taking your face in his hands and pressing his mouth to yours.

“Hey,” he whispers once he’s had his fill, pulling back just enough to mumble the greeting against your lips. “They’re all gone for the day, right?”

“Yes,” you confirm, still reeling from the suddenness of his appearance and the subsequent kiss. “But how did you—?”

“Jimin told me,” Jungkook answers shortly, before pulling you close and kissing you again. This time, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his mouth against yours, following his lead as he ushers you back upstairs and breaking the kiss only once in the process. He lays you down onto your bed, the mattress dipping under your combined weight, and you sigh when he moves down to nip at your neck.

“No marks, Jungkook,” you remind him breathily. “You can’t leave marks.”

A low whine escapes him. “Can’t you wear a scarf?”

“It’s the middle of summer!” you huff in amusement, smacking his arm when he whines again and stubbornly sucks at the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Jungkook’s breath is hot against your skin. His fingers find the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them off your hips and down your legs, and you kick them off as soon as they’ve reached your ankles. Hungrily, his gaze traverses the newly revealed skin, and you shiver when he gently trails his fingertips up your calves and all the way to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “Jungkook,” you sigh. “I haven’t shaved in days.”

“Ask me if I care,” he replies hoarsely, leaning down to press the flat of his tongue against the growing damp spot seeping through the cotton of your underwear. It’s far from your sexiest pair—you’d categorize them as granny panties, in all honesty—but Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit fazed as he hooks them aside and licks a broad stripe all the way up to your clit. “Want you,” he groans, and the vibrations from his voice send a volt of tingling electricity straight up your spine. “Want you in every way I can have you.”

You don’t respond. You don’t have to, because Jungkook is diving in with the enthusiasm of a man starved, tossing your underwear aside carelessly before banding his arms around your legs to hold you open. His face disappears between your thighs until only the top of his hair is visible, the dark strands mussed. Lips parting in a moan, your fingers find their way to his head, tangling at his roots, and Jungkook parts from your cunt briefly to groan his approval. Then he’s eating you out again—alternating between broad licks and teasing flicks to your clit before his tongue delves into your entrance, inhaling deeply as if he just can’t get enough.

The sun rises higher into the sky, beaming through your window and illuminating Jungkook’s head and shoulders in warm, hazy gold. You chant his name as you reach your high, spurred on by his teasing tongue and whispered words of encouragement, and the grin he wears when he straightens back up is near blinding. Slowly, he peels off his shirt and shucks off his jeans until he’s completely bare before you, the sun painting him in warm strokes of color. Deliberately, he crawls up your body, hiking up the hem of your shirt as he does. He plants kisses into your newly bared skin, and when he reaches your lips he settles there as if that’s where he’s meant to be.

Jungkook kisses you slowly. He kisses you deliberately—sensually—and you melt into his gentle touch, relishing in the feel of his bare body pressed so intimately against yours. You don’t miss the way his cock hardens against your thigh, but Jungkook seems to be in no hurry to do anything about it. Instead, he cups your cheeks and licks into your mouth, and you’re all too willing to part beneath him like a flower in bloom.

The rest of the afternoon passes like this—hot kisses and slow fucking, the two of you meshing until you’re no longer sure where you end and he begins. You keep an eye on the time, though, and by the time your parents and Jimin return home, you and Jungkook are showered and dry, sitting on the living room floor embroiled in a Mario Kart tournament.

“No fair! You played without me?” Jimin whines, plopping down between you and trying to wrest the controller away from Jungkook. “C’mon, let me have a turn. You’ve been at it all day!”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up past Jimin’s shoulder to meet yours, his lips twitching in barely suppressed mirth. “Yeah. We sure were.”

///

“God, I’m going to be sore for the next month.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” your brother snorts, squeezing your cheek between his thumb and index finger like you’re a small child. His three o’clock dance class has just wrapped up, and people are slowly filtering out of the studio. A few of the younger women glance back toward where you’re standing with Jimin, and you have no doubt they’re vying for one last look at your brother in his tight-fitting joggers and loose tank that keeps drooping off one shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you suppress the urge to loudly bring up the time he walked into a sliding glass door and nearly chipped his tooth. Instead, you pinch his cheek back, and laugh when he pouts.

“Ow, hey! What happened to giving me all your love and support?”

“Please, Mom made me come to your class,” you retort, batting his invasive hand away. “I think she just wanted me out of the house.”

Jimin laughs. “Can’t blame her. You’re a goddamn freeloader.”

“Seriously? Because in that case, I’m dying to hear what that makes you.”

Thoroughly nonplussed, Jimin pinches your other cheek before dancing away on light feet. “I’m an angel. Now go away, so I can get ready for my next class!”

Rolling your eyes again, you heft your bag over your shoulder and turn on your heel. “Fine, fine. Good luck, and all that. See you at dinner.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, and when you peer over your shoulder at him, he’s already sprawled on the floor and reaching for his toes in the unmistakable first step of his warm-up routine. He waves when he sees you watching, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully before exiting the studio and heading for the door. You’ve borrowed your dad’s car for the day, and hum cheerily as you climb into the driver’s seat.

You spend the rest of the afternoon running errands—stopping by both the post office and the bank before heading for the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for dinner. By the time you get back home, Jimin has finished teaching at the studio as well, and you fix him with a stare as you plop two full bags of groceries in front of him on the kitchen counter.

“Care to help me carry the rest in?”

“Not really,” he replies, but he stands up and follows you outside to the car nonetheless.

Once all the groceries are inside and unpacked, you begin prepping for dinner. Jimin, to his credit, offers his help without you even having to ask, and with his assistance you finish cooking in record time. Your parents join you in the dining room, and together you enjoy the meal over the evening news.

You retire to your room after dinner, cracking open your laptop to go over the details of your internship for the umpteenth time. You’ve read the emails and the attached documents so many times you practically have them memorized, but the anxiety gnawing at your belly refuses to be quelled. You’re returning to Seoul in less than a week, and your empty suitcase sits in the corner of your childhood bedroom like a taunt. You wonder, briefly, if you should start packing.

“Nah, it can wait,” you decide, muttering the words to your nonexistent audience. Standing up, you stretch lazily before exiting your room and heading down the hall to the bathroom that you and Jimin share, muffling a yawn behind your hand.

You’ve just finished brushing your teeth when your phone vibrates against the bathroom counter, a notification lighting up your screen. Spitting into the sink and rinsing off your toothbrush, you towel off your face before picking up your phone, blinking owlishly at the text.

[11:08pm] Jungkook: can you come over?

By itself, it’s not an unusual request. At this late an hour, though, you can’t help the unease that rises up in your belly. And as if sensing your apprehension, your phone vibrates again.

[11:09pm] Jungkook: my parents are out

[11:09pm] Jungkook: please? i could use some company

There’s an edge of desperation in his last message—something you haven’t seen in him since you returned home. It reminds you a bit of the Jungkook you used to know—the scrawny, gangly one with a nose too big for his face and an all-encompassing fear of the opposite sex. Give me ten minutes, you tell him.

Okay, Jungkook writes back. See you soon.

The next few minutes are a blur. You slather on some moisturizer and consider changing out of your pajamas and putting on a bra, but dismiss the thought immediately. Jungkook has seen you in far less, and you’re staunchly opposed to putting a bra back on after a certain hour of the night. Besides, he’s sure to dispose of your clothes at some point, so there’s little point in changing. With that thought in mind, you tiptoe out into the hall, past your parents’ bedroom and Jimin’s closed door. You carefully edge around the creakiest floorboards and hop over the two steps in the staircase that always groan when subjected to additional weight. Gingerly, you edge open the front door, just enough to slip out into the night.

The trek across the yard doesn’t take long, and Jungkook swings the door open before you even get a chance to knock. “Hey,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar round glasses perched on his nose. He’s in his pajamas as well—a blue and white checkered set that’s about two sizes too big—and when he ushers you inside, you catch a whiff of his floral laundry detergent.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Long day,” he sighs, raking a hand through his already tousled hair and mussing it further. “Come on in. You want anything to drink?”

You shake your head, stepping into the entryway and watching as he closes and locks the door again. Jungkook nods and shuffles to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of water from the faucet and downs half of it in one swig. His throat bobs as he swallows, his head tilted back to expose the long line of his neck, and you step a little closer as he turns to refill the glass.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll have some water too.”

“Mm. Okay.” Jungkook turns and fetches a second glass, filling it to the brim before handing it over. Then he takes your free hand and leads you upstairs, taking a left turn into his bedroom and nudging the door closed with his foot.

“So…” you begin slowly, putting your water down on the nightstand and reaching for the hem of your shirt. “We need to be quick. My mom’s a light sleeper, and I’m pretty sure I heard Jimin playing games in his room when I walked by.”

Jungkook chuckles and lays his hands over yours, stilling your attempt to take off your shirt. “When did you turn into such a horndog, Noona? Maybe I just want to hang out.”

You blink. “Did you just want to hang out?”

Jungkook plops onto his bed and grabs you by the waist, tugging you down and into his lap. “I mean, yeah—I thought that was obvious. Figured we could watch a movie or something.” Grabbing the tv remote, he switches on the television hanging on the opposite wall. “Any suggestions?”

You hesitate. You’ve been in Jungkook’s bedroom just once since you’ve come back, and the memory of the way he’d bent you over the desk in the corner sends a pulse of heat to your cheeks. Tearing your gaze away from the piece of wooden furniture, you instead focus on the television screen, watching as he navigates over to the Netflix menu.

“We can go old school too, if you want,” he remarks as he scrolls through the list of new arrivals. “I have a DVD player.”

That draws a laugh from your lips. “When was the last time you purchased a DVD? Last I checked, you only had Kung Fu Panda, Iron Man, and two copies of Titanic for some reason that you still won’t tell me.”

Jungkook laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Call it human error,” he says, looping his arms comfortably around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder. “How do you feel about going super old school? I can get the VHS player out of the basement and pop in one of the Pokémon movies.”

“I’m sure we won’t have to resort to that,” you assure him, grinning. “Here, why don’t we just watch Iron Man? Three’s your favorite, right?”

“Three is everyone’s favorite,” he says, scrolling over to the appropriate menu and clicking play. “It’s the best one, hands-down.”

“Won’t argue with you there.”

The movie starts, and you shift off Jungkook’s lap to switch off the lights. Darkness overtakes the room as the screen lights up with the opening credits, and when you return to the bed, Jungkook has sprawled comfortably against the pillows lining the headboard. His eyes remain glued to the screen even as he reaches for you, and you hesitate for only a second before joining him, laying down beside him and letting his arm find its way around your shoulders. The scent of floral laundry detergent fills your nostrils, and you subtly nestle a bit closer, resting your head on his chest.

This isn’t the first time Jungkook has seen this movie. You know this for a fact, yet that doesn’t change how raptly he watches the screen, the action sequences reflected perfectly in his glasses. He’s practically vibrating with excitement by the time of the final showdown, mouthing along to the lines, and you hide your smile in the blue-and-white squares of his pajama shirt as the music swells.

It’s well past midnight by the time the credits roll. Jungkook seems perfectly content to lie on his bed with his arm around you, and when you make to get up, his grip slides down to your waist to hold you in place. “You gotta watch the credits all the way through,” he says, blinking at you with bleary eyes now that the adrenaline from the final showdown has worn off. “There’s a post-credits scene, remember?”

You shake your head, but let him pull you back down onto the mattress regardless. “I’m sure you already know what it is. Why don’t you just tell me?”

“What’s the fun in that?” he asks with a grin.

The end credits continue—an endless stream of names scrolling down the screen. Your eyes begin to droop, the words blurring together, and it’s only when the music stops and the final scene begins that you jolt awake. Jungkook is faring no better than you are, suppressing a yawn behind his hand as he watches the last bit of the film through half-lidded eyes. Then the screen goes dark, and silence descends over the room once more. You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand and see that it’s nearly two in the morning. A look back at Jungkook reveals that both his eyes have fallen shut, and you slowly begin wriggling free from his embrace in order to head home.

You’ve barely moved an inch when Jungkook’s arm tightens around your waist. “Stay,” he mumbles sleepily, one eye cracking open.

You should say no. You should head home to the safety of your own bed. But there’s something about Jungkook—something soft and fond in his tired gaze and something vulnerable in the way he’s holding you so tightly against his pajama-clad body with his hair in complete disarray and his round glasses askew. Heaving a sigh, you reach up to take them off his face, placing them neatly on his nightstand.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll stay.”

Jungkook smiles sleepily and shuts his eyes. “G’night, then, Noona.”

“Night, Jungkookie.”

Within seconds, his breathing evens out, and you know he’s off in dreamland. Twisting in his grasp, you tug your phone out of your pocket and set a quick alarm for six o’clock. Neither of your parents wake up until seven at the earliest, and Jimin would sleep until three in the afternoon if he could get away with it, so you’re certain that you’ll have plenty of time to sneak back into the house. Besides, Jungkook’s bed is comfortable, and his chest is practically a furnace against your back. You aren’t sure you could work up the energy to leave even if you tried.

So instead, you settle back into his embrace and let sleep whisk you away.

///

There are birds chirping outside the window when you open your eyes the next morning, blinking blearily against the sun shining through the curtains. The blanket is tangled around your legs and there’s an arm looped around your waist, and you sit bolt upright when realization dawns. Jungkook groans and mumbles something unintelligible, but you don’t pay him any mind as you twist out of his grasp, clutching for your phone on the nightstand.

7:03am.

Shit.

Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you rise to your feet and shove your phone into the pocket of your pajama pants. Jungkook makes a sound that vaguely resembles your name, and you spare him a glance as you fumble for your shoes. He’s flat on his back, blinking hair out of his eyes as he fights to stay awake. “Hey,” he manages, his voice raspy.

“I gotta go,” you whisper urgently, successfully putting your shoes on the right feet and wrenching the door of his bedroom open. And then you turn and dash out, leaving a very sleepy, very disheveled Jungkook blinking after you.

Your house, when you carefully crack open the front door and poke your head inside, is quiet. Much to your relief, you don’t hear any of the telltale signs that your family is awake and downstairs yet—no drip of the coffee maker and no sizzle of bacon or eggs. From upstairs, however, you can distantly hear the sound of the shower, so you dart inside and toe off your shoes, padding into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. You check the alarm you’d set the night prior as you scoop coffee grounds into the filter, and curse under your breath when you realize you’d somehow managed to select six PM instead of AM.

You’re seated in the living room with a mug of fresh coffee when Jimin shuffles in with damp hair and a sleepy frown. “You’re up early,” you remark.

“I have a morning class to teach,” he replies, yawning widely as he grabs a fresh mug. “What’s your excuse?”

You shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Fair enough.”

Suppressing another yawn, your brother turns his attention to the refrigerator, rooting around for the milk. And you return yours to the window, where you can see the side of the Jeon’s house, and Jungkook’s bedroom window on the second floor. There are no signs of life from within, and you wonder if he’d gone back to sleep after your departure. Considering how tired he’d looked last night, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

Chaeyoung’s voice echoes in your mind then, soft and wistful. It always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. And honestly? I think it was because of you. We never really forget our first crush, do we?

And then Jisoo’s words rise up in your brain, just a bit louder. He’s a heartbreaker. He never, ever stays until the morning.

So why, then, did you wake up in his arms today?

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