#weeping like a lost child in the club

[astudyincontrasts]

Darling Study, I want you to know that I stayed up until 4 a.m. last Friday because I was so hooked on Heart of Frost, and I'm having trouble resisting the urge to replay Wild Hunt and read the series over again! You're such a great writer and I really enjoyed this one 💙💙

ILU ILU ILU THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭 oH MYGoD I’m so glad you enjoyed the fic that much I’m doing backflips while sobbing 🖤 Thank you bb and YES replay the game go get your Witcher on!

#asks #asddafhjhfghjhhj #weeping like a lost child in the club #thank you for reading and for this lovely comment

[galaxygirl8880]

I was inspired by a Tcf post I saw a while ago so if this post reminds you of something similar you've seen TELL ME PLEASE-

---

Cale Henituse is 13 years old, begrudgingly attending a party hosted by a Noble his father wishes to strike a business deal with, when he spots a child near where he's sat in by the bushes.

He had only just been able to shake off Eric, who wanted to make sure he behaved at this party. At the time his reputation was more "bratty child" than trash.

Sure, sitting on the floor wasn't really noble-like but honestly, Cale really could care less.

Momentarily, he got the kid's attention. They made eye contact for a split second, red puffy eyes more apparent to the redhead, and then the kid began furiously rubbing their face.

Cale stood up and began walking towards the child. (He still didn't like seeing people cry. Behind the "Trash" persona he put up, Cale was still there. For how much longer?)

The boy, who he believed might be Viscount Dacre's child, looked up sharply and seemed startled to see him there.

Cale scoffed and sat down, the kid flinched.

"Well? Sit." The older of the two sat down on the grass and patted the spot next to him.

Hesitantly, the pink haired child sat next to him.

For some reason, the kid wanted to start crying again. His face scrunched up as he did his best to stop the tears.

Suddenly, a handkerchief was thrusted in front of his face. An offering.

Picking it up and blowing his nose, he placed the handkerchief on his lap and said in a small voice-

"My father said we're not to cry.."

Cale tsked, memories of his own father telling him to avoid the Viscount, how rumors of the man's rude personality constantly surrounded him.

"That is because your father is incapable of human emotions, you are 9. Cry if you feel like it."

And its like a dam was broken. The kid's shoulders began to shake and suddenly Cale had an armful of a sad child weeping in his arms.

Shocked, Cale slowly wrapped his arms around the kid and began to rub his back slowly.

After the kid finished crying, Cale grabbed the abandoned handkerchief and wiped the child's face.

"Put cold water on your eyes to lessen the puffiness, now scram. I can hear them calling you."

"R-right! Thank you Hyung!"

Leaving a stunned Cale behind, the much happier pink haired child hurried along to find the voices of his (most likely) parents.

"...Huh."

Still a bit dazed, Cale stood up and dusted himself off, lost in thought, and began to walk towards a random direction.

---

This happens a few more times. Cale soon finds out Noble families aren't as perfect as people think, well he knew that before.. but to see it firsthand? It only solidifies his opinion.

They all end up practically forming a club.

When rumors of Cale being trash really start to set off, they want to defend him. Because really? Their Hyung hitting someone for being too loud? That makes literally. No. Sense.

But some of the older kids eventually piece it together. It's an act.

They know how kind Cale is, and a few playdates in, organized by their parents, realize how protective he is over his siblings.

Cale may not be the most affectionate towards them but causing a scene and diverting all attention on him after people begin to talk about his stepmother?

That's not a coincidence.

-

You'd be surprised by how easy it is to spread rumors as a child about someone you spend frequent time with.

With approval from Cale and a little lie, about something Cale allegedly did, to their parents?

It's ridiculously easy.

---------

One time Alberu walked out into the garden to socialize because he noticed a bunch of the kids heading towards there, and witnessed a majority basically swarming around Cale.

Later he saw them walking through the hall trailing after Cale like little ducklings.

---

Lol

Did it get a little scrambled at the end? Yeah. But I still like it

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lout of the counts family #cale henituse #original cale henituse #tcf fic #tcf fic idea #alberu crossman

[authoressofdarkness]

Summer Bingo Fill: Public Claiming @starkerfestivals

A little twist on this prompt born from seeing this idek how old post from @monster-cock69 this morning and frantically writing this in less than 30 minutes. This is completely unbetaed and straight from the dredges of my brain, fair warning.

Idk if anyone has written anything based off of it yet but still, I hope they (and all of you) enjoy it! (Mafia typical violence here, but nothing too graphic!)

~~~

Peter thanks every being in the universe that his jacket is still on as he rounds the corner, stumbling. It does nothing for the cold that seems to come from somewhere inside him right now, but there's another reason he is glad he has it, right?

He's lost a lot of blood – just enough for the world to feel fuzzy around the edges. There's a shallow slice on his throat that is weeping small tears of blood from where he very narrowly avoided having his throat cut a few minutes ago, and a split above his eyebrow from hitting his face on… something, he doesn't remember. It's all kind of a blur, now, and all he remembers is the gleam of metal, the way the turned down lights reflected off of it just right, and the punishing grip on his thighs.

He can't remember how he escaped or even how he got here, only that he'd ran and now he's here, however many blocks away from the club where he'd started and he's probably still being pursued. He needs to hide. No, he needs help.

But who would come running for someone like him? Not the police. The club hasn't stopped those people from coming in with the weapons, had escorted them to a private room, might have known–

Take this, sweetheart. Just in case.

Peter's hand goes to the breast pocket of his poor excuse for a jacket at the memory. Everyone knew who Tony Stark was. Peter isn't oblivious to who his regular customers are, though he would never dare even make eye contact with a man like that outside of work, especially not if they were a client. Rules and such.

The criminal had tucked the card in his pocket at the end of their last little tryst, and Peter had let him, though he had no intention of ever using it. But now… 

Shouting in the distance breaks through the fog making its way across Peter's brain, kicking him into action. Now isn't the time to be indecisive. And worrying about his life or his job after this was moot if he didn't survive.

He finds the nearest dumpster and crawls behind it, trying not to gag at the smell. His phone is somehow still tucked in the band of his fishnets, probably kept in place by the silky scarf tied around his hips. He pulls it out with shaking hands, retrieves Stark's card, and waits.

It cuts off after the second ring. Peter thinks he's been hung up on for a moment until a voice snaps into the silence, "Speak."

"Mr. Stark?" Oh God, he sounds like a literal child. If he even recognizes him—

"Peter?" The ice melts out of Stark's voice immediately, replaced with something like urgency. "What's wrong?"

"I–" The sob sticks in his throat, and the words stop. He can't summarize the horrors of what just happened, and the reality of how cold he is and the voices getting nearer is starting to set in. "They tried to–" His voice falters again.

Stark doesn't push him for the details. He hears the rustling on the other line, and something that might have been a door slamming. "Who?"

"I don't know– 'm cold, Mr. Stark, and I don't really remember– just ran–"

"It's okay, I'll take care of it, Peter. You did good to get away. Where are you now?"

"Dunno– went out the back door and kinda ran–"

"The back door of the club?" 

"Yeah–"

"We'll find you. Are you safe now?"

Peter stops to listen. "I'm not sure, I think someone followed me– I'm hiding, but–" 

"Stay hidden. We'll find you."

The line goes dead.

Peter stares at the phone in his hand, wondering for a second if this was even real. His vision is swimming, and the sounds of pursuit that seemed so close a minute ago are hard for him to grasp now. He looks down and realizes there's blood coming from somewhere on his torso, another wound he must not have noticed, wasn't feeling because of the adrenaline rush, but– oh, it's a lot of blood, no wonder he feels like this.

Eventually the voices get close enough that they start to penetrate the fog on his mind again, but Peter is barely holding on to consciousness and any sense of fear or urgency is not quite tangible enough to make him move.

Someone hauls him out from behind the dumpster. Peter struggles, but there's no strength left behind the movement. A kick to the ribs sends him to the ground, sprawled face down on the concrete.

Words float to him as if in a dream.

"Move, Stark, and I'll blow his brains out right in front of you."

"You and I both know you intend to kill him anyway."

"True. But you're not going to get your gun up quick enough to kill me first."

Peter raises his head a little. Mr. Stark is there, maybe twenty feet away, silhouetted by the street lights on either end of the alley like some dark angel. The man's eyes are on Peter, and his lips turn up in a little smirk.

"I don't have to. You'll never touch anything that belongs to me again."

The gunshot that follows makes Peter jump. Which is good, because if he can jump, then he's not dead, which means it wasn't directed at him. He prefers being startled any day.

"About goddamn time, Happy, what took you so long–"

"Things at the club were messy, boss, you're not gonna like this one–"

The words turn into a droning background noise when Stark appears in front of him, kneeling to his level. "Peter, focus up, doll. Are you alright?"

 Peter tries to nod, but his head just falls against Stark's foot limply. He's so tired. And cold, and–

"Peter." Stark sounds more frantic now. "Happy, find me a medic, now–"

"Everyone's a little busy right now–"

"I don't give a flying fuck– Peter, don't you dare go to sleep."

The words are directed at him. Somehow, Peter recognizes that much. Normally he wouldn't dare to disobey an order from Tony Stark, especially with that tone. But the frizzle of fear that runs down his spine isn't enough to stop him. His eyes are so heavy. He closes them before he can realize it. 

The last thing he hears is Tony Stark swearing above him.

~~~

It's also the first thing he hears when he comes to, just briefly, while they're working on him. The stinging in his side while they stitch him up – that has to be what they're doing, though the pain is dulled so much it's hard to be sure – is enough to pull him towards the surface of consciousness. 

Peter thinks he's in a vehicle, if the subtle thrum of the engine is anything to go off of. But he's laid out comfortably on something soft, and there's something warm under his head, and the hands that are prodding at him are gentle and surprisingly steady.

"He was in shock by the time you got to him. You're lucky he's alive."

Another voice, the one from the alley. Happy? "I can't believe he is. I can't believe he got away in that state."

Fingers card through his hair. Stark's voice, thoughtful, but tired, strained in a way he'd never heard it. "He was out of it, even when he called me. But he didn't say anything— nothing that indicated we were going to walk into a situation like that. He said they tried to do something to him, but couldn't tell me what. I thought someone raped him, not tried to slit his fucking throat. Nothing could have prepared me for that." 

"I wonder who orchestrated that kind of hit. It's so random…" 

"Unless they had some kind of clue…"

"Next time it won't be taken as random. We made our claim pretty clear."

The conversation devolves from there, but Stark's hand in his hair stays consistent. Peter never opens his eyes, finding them far too heavy and himself too tired to even try. The hand in his hair is just the right mix of possessive and comforting. As soon as the dull pain in his side fades, Peter is gone again, too.

~~~

The next time Peter wakes up, he's in bed. 

Well, someone else's bed. Not his.

For a moment, he wonders if everything was a dream. The card, the attack, the phone call, all of it. But then he tried to roll over and pain sparks through his side, and he realizes it was all very real.

"Take it easy, Peter."

Peter jumps a little and looks up, and yeah, that's Tony Stark on the other side of the bed. He wets his lips. "'M… sorry, Mr. Stark."

The elder man looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. "You've been awake for thirty seconds and you're already sorry for something? I just don't want you to hurt yourself more than you are, kid."

Peter flushes, mind flitting to all the other times Stark had called him kid when they were alone for just a second before reeling himself back in. "I– thank you, Mr. Stark. Not just for that, but for… saving me, and everything."

Stark turns to face him more fully. "Well, when my favorite boy calls for help, of course I'm going to be there." His fingers find Peter's hair again, and Peter tilts his head into the touch almost automatically. "It was a bit more of an undertaking than I had imagined, admittedly, but I would do it again, if you needed me to."

"I'm your favorite boy?" Peter's cheeks turn even redder as he looks up at Stark through his lashes.

"Do you think I give my personal number out to just anybody, you silly thing? Of course you're my favorite." Tony runs a thumb over Peter's bottom lip. "And you're my only, now. Would be a shame to keep you here and not utilize your services, wouldn't it?"

"You're going to keep me here?" Old fear sets in with a vengeance, but Tony grips his hair before Peter can pull away and leans over him.

"Shh, don't be like that. You don't have to be afraid." Tony sighs a little, stroking the boy's cheek. "I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart. But I made a very public claim on you by showing up last night. We killed… oh, at least eight people, and left the club in shambles. It's not going to take very long for word to spread." 

"You killed eight people? Because of me?" Peter hadn't been with it enough to have any understanding of that, but it was the logical explanation. He suddenly remembers the gunshot right above him and feels a bit queasy.

"I kill people all the time, sweetheart. Eight is nothing. Especially when they were putting their hands on my property."

My property. Peter is Tony Stark's property. A shiver goes through him.

Tony notices, and he offers him a small smile. "I killed the owner too, you know. Your handler is dead. Your contract is with me, now."

Peter swallows thickly. His contract is gone, too — but he doesn't allow himself to savor the freedom too much, not yet. "And how am I to work that off?"

Tony's eyes are bright and wicked. "I think you know, puppy."

Peter barely bites back the whimper that rises in his throat at Stark's pet name for him, and he raises his head before he's even conscious of the decision to do so, kissing him.

Mr. Stark kisses back, the hand still tight in his hair, keeping him right where he wants him as his tongue slides against Peter's, dipping into his mouth for a moment before pulling back. "Right answer," he murmurs, kissing him again, chastely this time. "But not now. You need to rest. I want you to enjoy it when I take you apart, Peter, not just be pushing through because you think you owe me."

Peter watches him sit up, breathing still a little shaky. "Don't I, though?"

"I suppose you do, but I'll take my repayment when and how I please. This isn't it." Stark stretches. "I'm going to get us some food. Stay there. Rest. I mean it."

There is nothing for Peter to do but comply.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #my writing #mafia au

[the-hinky-panda]

I don't think you're right for him (Hey) think of what it might've been

You can read the previous parts of this series here.

Relationships weren’t your thing. They never really were. You had been married once, when you were young and dumb enough to believe the promises that people made to you. It lasted for three years before you ended it and cut him loose. Two years after that came the double whammy of a life-saving hysterectomy and the MS diagnosis. You were helping another professional when you came off the horse and the rail splintered, impaling you in the abdomen. The hysterectomy saved your life but it also opened the door for them to run more tests when they saw a shadow on your spine from one of the scans to look at the internal damage caused by the rail. 

The nurses had tiptoed around you, fearing weeping and wailing over the loss of not being able to have children. But you had never wanted them to begin with. You certainly didn’t want them when you were with your ex. As a single woman trying to make it in a man’s business, you didn’t want the complication that a baby would bring. And now with the monster of MS staring down at you, a pregnancy would bring about too much of a strain on your body. Not to mention the possibility of passing it along to your child. 

You tell Filip this, with the orange dawn light peeking through the lace curtains of the hotel room in Ireland and his fingertips trailing over the raised scar on your abdomen. He’s the first man that you’ve told about the surgery, about how your diagnosis came about. This, laying in his bed, with his hands still on your skin, while you tell the story of the worst day of your life, and it’s far more intimate than anything else that has happened in the bed. 

You can’t just walk away from him now. This is not a one night stand where you both go back to your lives as if nothing significant has happened. There are signs, little tells that occur when reality starts bleeding back into your world that he feels the same effect. Bags need to be packed, flights need to be caught. Business as usual. Except it isn’t. He carries your bag downstairs for you, gets you both coffee while you wait for the cab to take you to the airport and yours is fixed exactly the way you like it. You sit close together in the backseat of the cab, hands entwined so naturally you didn’t even realize it until you arrived at the airport. 

You’re not a touchy-feely type person. You used to be though. As a child, you felt everything, the entire range of emotions. You felt connections to people, animals, the earth itself. That’s what drew you to the horses, you felt like you spoke the same language. But then people started to demand things from you when you became a teenager. They wanted that connection you had to the horses, they wanted your riding talent. And when your body changed, they wanted that too. Alcohol and drugs dulled the feelings of being used so that you could enjoy the horses. No one could touch you when you were on the back of a horse so that’s what you lived for. But as you sit next to Filip on the flight from Belfast to Newark, you wonder what it would be like to live for something else. 

Someone else. 

You study his profile on the flight, your thumb absently dragging over one of the bulky rings on his hand. The sweep of his iron gray hair, tucked behind his ear. The straight line of his nose, the deeply etched scar across his cheek. You know he’s smiling when a dimple appears and you quickly avert your eyes in slight embarrassment. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” you respond, continuing with your fiddling with the ring. 

“Uh huh,” comes the disbelieving response. “You haven’t said hardly a word all morning. Normally, you can’t stay quiet. Something’s going on inside that head of yours.” 

This is the part when you would disappear, slink away to get lost on the dance floor or go to another club and get tangled up with someone else. But you’re stuck on a plane, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, and there’s no place to hide. Maybe that’s a good thing though, not having an escape route this time. You have to face this, face him. Because out of all the one night stands and possible suitors, Filip Telford was worth taking this chance. 

You’re not able to find the proper words, or any words to address his observation until you’re both sitting in an airport bar waiting for your flight to LAX. You’re on your second martini when you blurt out the truth of the matter in the most simplest terms you can manage. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

His dark eyes scan your face, looking for any clues as to what you’re talking about. The comment he had made about you being quiet had happened three hours ago so confusion over your statement isn’t unexpected. “Don’t know what you’re doing with what?” 

“This. Us.” You rub a hand over your face. “Relationships.” 

“Ah.” 

You hear the defeat in his voice, realize there’s some untold story behind the disappointment, that you’re not the only one with baggage. You have no idea what to say because you have no idea what has happened to him to make him jump to the worst interpretation of your statement. You brush your fingertips over his knuckles. “Filip, listen…” 

***

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

He had heard the music, some R&B shit that Althea plays whenever she’s in the trenches of self pity and doubt. The scent of weed came after he opened the door to her apartment. It was going to be one of those nights. And he’s tired. So bone weary exhausted that he doesn’t have it in him to play this game. But he has to say something. They can’t stare down each other until the other blinks. It’s best to give her the floor, let her rant and see where they end up afterwards.That’s the dance they step to, that’s what’s so tiring.“What?” 

“I don’t know what I was thinking. Jesus, I’m an idiot. It’s not you, Filip.” 

The side of his mouth quirks up in a disbelieving grin. The old “it’s not you, it’s me.” He would have hoped she was a bit more creative than that. Maybe she’s tired too. 

“I always put myself in these situations where, that just can’t go anywhere. I just seek out shit that I know is going to crash and burn. I’m sorry, I should have never let this happen.”

No, he shouldn’t have let this happen. Certainly not for this long. The cop and the criminal. Only one of them is going to win at the end of the day. If she loses, she’ll be dead. If he loses, he’ll be incarcerated. There are no happy endings in sight for either of them and the old feelings of failing in a relationship, failing someone, start to rise in his chest. He’s twenty-two and leaving Ireland, leaving a wife and sweet faced baby girl all over again. So much for waiting over twenty years and trying it again. Failure was his destiny. 

He took the joint from Althea, inhaled a couple deep breaths, and blew it out in a long stream of smoke. “Okay.” 

He stood up and grabbed his kutte, pulling it back on. He heard Althea get up from her crouched position on the floor. “That’s it? ‘Okay?’” 

He sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “What do you want from me, Althea?” 

What does anyone want from him? God, he was so fucking tired. 

That tiredness settles like a familiar weight on his shoulders. He knows what’s coming next. Last night was fun but…This was just an international fling…you understand, right? 

“Filip!” 

Your fingers are still tapping on his hand and he slips it out of your reach, picking up his scotch glass. “Aye, I heard you.” 

“I don’t think you did.” 

He glances over at you, sees that smart ass slight twist of your lips. He’s struck with just how beautiful you really are. And how that doesn’t matter anymore. “Then what is it?” 

“I’m trying to tell you I’m shit at being in a relationship. But,” you take a deep breath, “but I want to try. With you. If you want.”

He feels some of the weight start to lift. This isn’t a “go separate ways” speech. This isn’t a “it’s not you, it’s me” excuse. You want the opposite. You want to continue this back in Charming. And the hope that blossoms in his chest forces him to tamper down the relieved smile that wants to appear. Instead, he tones it down to a half grin and takes a sip of his scotch. “You really are shit at this.” 

You huff in annoyance but there’s no real edge to it. “You’re not much better, are you now?”

Maybe this is how it’s supposed to work, this open acknowledgement of not knowing what to do and moving forward anyway. Maybe he’s not giving the two of you enough credit. He finishes the scotch before laying his hand over yours. The tattoo on your wrist is peeking out from the cuff of your cardigan and he traces it with the pad of his thumb. He asks the same question he posed to Althea that night, the night he should have continued to walk back out the door. 

“What do you want from me?” 

Your hand turns as you slip your fingers between his, you go back to playing with the heavy silver of his rings. “Just you, whatever you’re willing to give.” 

#chibs telford x you #chibs telford x reader #filip chibs telford x reader #filip chibs telford x you #chibs telford fic #filip chibs telford fic

[fair-night-starry-tears]

The Finale Call from Father

TW: Character death, angst, and more issues on Darling life

Darling was fiddling with the dials, talking to a microphone to speak to someone. “Hello??? Can you hear me?! Helloooo!” She answered, waiting for a few minutes. She almost wanted to cry, she haven’t contacted her father in a while when she fled. She didn’t want to trouble him, or make him upset. Believing what she had done was the most cowardly thing to do for a paladin. Just as she was about to turn the radio off. A familiar voice sparked her, “Darling? Is that you?” A man spoke. It was him. Her father. Darling started to weep with joy, “father! Father oh thank the stars you’re okay!” She said with a wide smile. “Father…… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ran, I should’ve helped. But….. It was Dante! I couldn’t fight him alone!” She answered, crying her worries and sorry away. But she was truly remorseful. There was a pause for a while, and Dire spoke again. “It’s okay my child…” he replied. “You were looking out for your lion the most. Refusing to hand it over. You choose to flee and hide. You did well, my little starlight.” He said. It sounded like he was choking on his own tears. “Dad….. I’m sorry, maybe….. When I’m off the radar, I’ll come find you. Or you find me ....” She said, Darling was ready to say her coordination, but. “No! No, don't!” He said. Making the girl jolt, but she heard a whisper. And her eyes widened to the familiar voice. “D-Dante?” She said, “Darling please! Don’t do anything!” And she heard a loud thud. And another voice, “seems like the jig is up.” The voice said. “If you want your father to be alive. Send us your lion’s coordinates. I know you would do anything to protect your father.” They said, Just as Darling was ready to do so. She heard screaming and blasting sounds from a gun. “You fool!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Shouted, “Darling! Destroy your radio! Do it now!!!!” Shouted her father, it was overwhelming. But one last thing she heard from her father before the transmitter was destroyed and thrown off an edge. “Father will always love you.” And loud gunshots were heard. Darling threw her radio over the edge. Watching it fall and shatter to millions.

That transmission. Will be the last she heard of her father. Holding her tears, she finally let them go. Screaming in loud agony, as her true form reveals itself. Holding her face, wailing in sorrow and loss. She felt a warm embrace hold her, sheltering her face to his own chest. Joseph held the girl, regardless she wasn’t who he thought she was. He heard everything, and vowed to hide this from the others. The girl could only cry, knowing fully well, she lost her father to someone she had once trusted. And she was alone. But never truly, as she found new friends to trust and hold onto. But the last call she had with her father, the last sounds made. Will forever haunt her for life. With a new promise, she vows to train the newest paladin’s to their fullest. To save the universe from evil. She would be damned to bow to someone who shattered her life and trust. Until then, she will remain hidden from everyone's sight and view. And when the day comes when she is found by the paladin’s, she will be ready to train them for what they’ll be facing.

@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind @skboba-stars @nproduction626 @rose-tea-and-strawberries @anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @achy-boo @abyssthing198 @zexal-club @liviavanrouge

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #marron ocs #twst #twst oc #muts oc #heiress if you are at this part #I’m sorry but I gotta make Darling life more of a hell #this is the first I’m using Dante okay #dire crowley #darling crowley #Joseph Manfred

[editoress]

4, 18, 25: Krelyss :3

>:( Are you proud of yourself? Huh?

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

Krelyss is built for high fantasy. It's the elven lifespan, the solemnity, the longing for a lost family. There's something so classic about it.

So I'm thinking Elizabeth Haydon's Rhapsody series. One of the main characters is half Dhracian, so he's visibly different and an outcast. They make good assassins, Dhracians. Fantastic senses. So Zaresh escapes the destruction of a continent that kicks off the plot of the first book. And Krelyss tries to follow him. But the time shenanigans separate them. Krelyss doesn't know if Zaresh even made it to the main setting, and it's hard to search when he has to hide his face. Also there's something charming to me about combining a setting in which music is magic with a character who is not a noted singer or musician.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

You know this already, but I am so interested to find out what kind of dynamic could exist for Krelyss and Vaela later on. There's a lot of potential there, but it could easily be lost if they decide to be too cautious with each other.

Otherwise, the answer is uhhh all of them. No, listen. Krelyss is so eternally fond of babygirl Riven, to the point that he believes with his whole heart that she wasn't a difficult child. "I've never done anything wrong, ever, in my life " / "I know this and I love you" dynamic. By nature of being older and wiser, he gives Erosen someone to lean on and stops him from pulling his retired cranky old man act. Delethil puts on his best, most charming manners for Krelyss specifically, mostly because it annoys Erosen, and so Krelyss finds him a nice young man. Eravin asks for melee training and they're in the Home Depot club together, so while they're not close, Krelyss does get to know Eravin from an interesting angle that no one else gets. And of course the other Home Depot club member is Vaela's dad, with whom there's a lot of complication but only on one side.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

I am trying my best to remember my first impression. I feel like I was thinking gremlin DM thoughts above all else, fitting the pieces together for my own purposes. My interest was in whether I could slot him into Riven's backstory, and voila!

Now. Now I'm in love. He's hot, everything he does is hot and tragically beautiful. I'm kicking my feet and giggling. I'm weeping into my hands. Can you believe there was a point in the campaign when I had his character sheet ready in case you mistimed the Zaresh news and would have had to fight and kill him. I would have died. We're married. That's my husband. One million me/Krelyss fic

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

106. Gorgeous

He loves her so much that sometimes it fills him with rage.

And he can’t say anything about it. One: because she’s perfect and so far out of his league they’re not even playing the same sport, but two...how dare she make him fall in love with her?

It was supposed to be a crush on a gorgeous woman he met in the back of a police car. Just a crush that he would never act on. But then she had to go and be funny. And smart. And kind.

If she hadn’t offered to stand outside of his playdate, he wouldn’t be sitting here, in a club in Miami, staring at her gorgeous face, getting lost in those ocean blue eyes. 

“You’re staring.”

“Am I?”

“Do I have a hair out of place?”

He smirks. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” That I love you. That I can’t live without you. That you’re the funniest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and if you don’t let me touch you, I’m going to curl up in a ball on the floor and weep like a small child. “What do you think?” He asks instead.

She pretends to ponder before quipping, in typical Mrs. Maisel fashion, “I just wish it had a little more atmosphere.” It’s a joke, meant to break the obvious tension, but it fails because he’s utterly, hopelessly, pathetically in love with her, and he just can’t hide it anymore.

He’s a miserable guy, generally speaking. Between alimony and lawyer fees and his relatively new dope habit, he’s broke. And he’s generally disillusioned with the state of their world, but when he’s with her...everything else just fades away. When he’s with her, he actually lets himself be happy.

“You’re still staring,” she points out.

He doesn’t know how he gets up the courage to say it, but he replies slowly, intentionally, “So are you.”

And she smiles.

Somehow, a short while later, she’s in his arms, and they’re dancing to a Peggy Lee song, and he can’t believe this is happening. Her head rests on his shoulder, her fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he’s pretty sure he could die right now and be totally content.

But then they’re standing outside of his hotel room, staring at each other, and she kisses him. It’s slow, and it’s sweet, and her fingers are soft and a little cold as they graze over his jaw. It’s tentative at first, and he doesn’t deepen it, lets her take the lead.

She does happily, her hands finding the back of his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss, and he finally lets himself tug her closer as his jacket falls off her shoulders.

She shivers as the cool air off the water hits her now uncovered shoulders, and then she giggles against his lips. “Wow,” she breathes.

“Yeah...wow,” he agrees a little dumbly before capturing her lips again. She moans as her back hits the doorframe behind her.

“Lenny,” she whispers as they part again a while later, both panting a little. “I need you to promise me something.”

He nods. “Okay.”

“If we go inside, and we...do some very blue things...” She swallows before gathering her courage and lifting her chin. “I need you to promise me that you will never forget that I am very, very funny.”

He grins and nods as he cups her face in his hand, tenderly brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I will be laughing through the entire thing. I promise.”

It’s half a joke, half serious, because this happening is so unbelievable he might laugh at the absurdity of Midge Maisel actually wanting him. But also...

How could he ever forget how funny she is?

She smiles up at him, and he kisses her again.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #mltswift

[uselessdevice]

SAROS SCATTERGOOD.

FACECLAIM: Raffey Cassidy. AGE: 18-35. GENDER: Female. OCCUPATION: None. SPECIES: Human. SEXUALITY: Asexual. NATIONALITY: American. EYE COLOUR: Grey. HAIR: Long, dark brown. HEIGHT: 5"5. SCARS: A starburst birthmark on her left shoulder. LANGUAGES: English. ZODIAC: Leo, August 4th. HOBBIES: Reading. Listening to music. Murder. SKILLS: Good with a blade. Animal husbandry. Green thumb. Charm. Sewing. MEDICAL: None. VICES: Music.CONNECTIONS: None.

BIOGRAPHY

TW: Murder, cult activity.

Pronounced 'Sair-os'. Daughter to cult leader Saffron Scattergood. Saros was raised to believe in higher celestial beings from the stars, and that men only wish to destroy and abuse everything they touch. After the cult was disbanded by the FBI, Saros found herself adrift in the foster care system, losing contact with all of her siblings. Though she came to terms with the fact she didn’t have the blood of the stars in her veins, working through all the years of indoctrination with her psychiatrist, Saros still held an inclination for violence.

When she fights, she fights dirty, just like her Mother taught her. The many lessons of Saffron Scattergood included being wary of men, but also how to use them to her advantage, especially the so revered innocence of teenage girls. Saros can cry on command, make herself a wilting flower, a weeping child that only needs protection, and this was exactly what she did when the FBI took her entire family into custody.

Though sexuality was an open subject at the commune, Saros never really connected with it, never understood the desires of other women around her. Her Mother insisted this was a divine blessing from the star people, that she had a gift that could be used to her advantage. Desire was a weapon, and Saros would be able to wield it far more skillfully than anyone else.

She struggles to fit in with other teenagers that don’t have a life stained with bloodshed and lies. When she turned 18, the foster system abandoned her, and Saros began taking up the mantle of her now incarcerated mother. With barely any effort on her part, just the simplest false smiles and batted eyelashes, Saros began killing men who dared to approach her, thinking her a silly young girl that could be easily manipulated. Gradually she started going to bars and clubs to find more victims, and they were oh so easy to find.

VERSES

Hannibal Saros is living in Baltimore, bouncing from foster family to foster family. The cult, Daughters of the Celestial, was taken apart by the FBI two years before the main events of Hannibal. She is 18 years old and a serial killer.

Promising Young Woman Now in her thirties, Saros has established herself as a serial killer of men and remains uncaught.

The Umbrella Academy ‘Adopted’ by Reginald Hargreeves, dubbed Number Eleven. Also known as Saros. When the Academy disbanded, Saros initially began healing cancer patients and using her power to alter DNA for good. But the growing pressure of so many sick people begging for help, pharmaceutical companies trying to hire her and those asking for help with cosmetic issues left her drained and overwhelmed. She moved to a small home in the countryside to escape everything.

The Hunger Games Born in District 10 and reaped at 14, Saros was an underestimated tribute.

Killing Eve Lost in the world after her commune was dissolved by the FBI, Saros is picked up for training by The Twelve, the perfect candidate to shape into an assassin.

Percy Jackson Daughter of Artemis. Saros never fit in with her peers, always more interested in reading, climbing trees or foraging in the woods instead of mooning over stupid boys. Her family life was chaotic, surrounded by many siblings and often fending for herself. One night while reading a book on Greek Goddesses, Saros stumbled across the oath to Artemis. Feeling a connection to the words, she spoke them aloud while looking up at the full moon, stunned to then find Artemis beckoning to her from the woods. From that day on she was a huntress, part of a new family of sisters. Age 14.

Alien Hybrid Rather than an insane fantasy, her Mother really did procreate with an ancient alien being. Half human, half something else, Saros is able to bend the DNA of living things to her will.

Yellowjackets A member of the ill fated all girls soccer team that survive the horrors of a plane crash in the wilderness. And do whatever it takes to survive.

#the abyss gazes back into thee ; saros scattergood #saros aes #saros ; hannibal v #saros ; tua v #saros ; hunger games v #saros ; killing eve v #saros ; percy jackson v #saros ; hybrid v #saros ; yellowjackets v #saros ; promising young woman v

[subtextread]

Hello, because I am Very Good at Grieving, I will rate the FE3H’s character’s reactions to Byleth’s grief.

Sothis: “If you must weep, then weep. I shall be here for you.”

9/10 she knows all of your thoughts, so it’s nice to have this said to yourself. Nothing else needed from her really.

Rhea: “Professor… How are you holding up? I know how heavily grief weighs upon one’s heart… I lost my mother some time ago. It was… Forgive me my moment of weakness. Even all these years later, I cannot recall that time without feeling the pain as if it were brand new. Just know that I am praying for your mind and your heart to find peace.”

0/10 lol… a bit too much there tbh iykyk. One imagines her prayers in this regard would do little good. But we can join the bad at grief club together. Her early dialogue where she tells you to not worry on anything but mending your heart is nice and what all bosses should say.

Edelgard: “What happened to Jeralt… It’s terrible. If there’s anything I can do, simply ask. Even if what you desire is revenge… I’ll gladly lend you my power. We can’t let them get away with this.”

0/10 you could’ve killed them yourself sweaty but it wasn’t politically convenient soooo

Yuri: “Jeralt raised you, yeah? He was all you had… You must be feeling a lot right now. When a parent dies, it really leaves a mark. So feel what you need to, no matter how that looks. But know that your inner fire will keep you moving ahead through even the hardest times.”

4/10 The first two sentences are almost funny. It’s like he’s newly learning who Jeralt and who you are. It’s nice to be told to feel what you feel. The last line is again a little Hallmarky. This feels new to him, it feels, and he is trying his best. The delivery is very tender.

Seteth: “First Tomas, and now Monica. I do have a theory, though I admit it is nothing more than speculation. Both Tomas and Monica have each gone missing at one time or another. It wad reported that when Monica returned from her disappearance, she began to act like a completely different person. As if, perhaps, the real Monica had been killed and replaced by an imposter. Thinking of it like that, it is possible that this Solon had been impersonating Tomas for some time. How they managed such a convincing change of appearance, though, I still do not understand.”

-10/10 Appreciate the diligence, king, but is this the time, place, or person you should be talking about this with? No lol.

Manuela: “I have something rather uncomfortable to discuss. It’s about the weapon that killed Jeralt. Will you listen?”

5/10 Unlike Seteth, I appreciate that she asks your consent before just diving in. When you’re dealing with the aftermath of a death as the Only Child you unfortunately have to deal with this business, so I can’t knock her down for that. She was kind about it.

Hanneman: “You have lost someone very dear to you… I am so… You have my sympathy. Manuela and I can take on some of your workload this month. We can’t do all the teaching, but at least we can lighten the load for you. I’ve always seen strength in your eyes. I know you’ll recover. You’re a very strong person.”

10/10 beautiful, thoughtful, helpful. Three boxes ticked right there. ;-;

Hapi: “Hey, seems like you’re having a hard time. Not that I can understand what you’re going through. I know that this is painful, but don’t lose hope for the future, OK? Someday, you’ll be able to accept what’s happened. And in the meantime, you have plenty of friends here to support you. Me included.”

6/10 A little cliché, but still sweet. It was always helpful to be reminded there was a circle of support around. Forward-thinking is not helpful.

Balthus and Constance:

Balthus: “Hey, pal. I see you’re up and at ‘em again, yeah? Good on ya. No use crying over the past and all.”

Constance: “Balthus, have some sensitivity! Who knows what the poor dear is going through right now?”

Balthus: “That ‘poor dear’ can hear you, ya know. Talking about someone like they’re not there. How cold can you get?”

Constance: “Ah… a fair point. Please, Professor, forgive my indiscretion. You have my condolences.”

Balthus: “Remember, the first step to healing is a hefty dose of revenge. Get out there and get to it!”

Balthus gets a 1/10. A part of me appreciates the sentiment, but the bereaved is already full of a desire for revenge and usually needs a little help stemming that. Not adding fuel to the fire lol.

Connie gets a 3/10. I disagree with Balthus, it’s nice when someone stands up for you and shuts down someone being unhelpful. Her affirming Blathus and then tacking on a chipper ‘My condolences’ is a little laughable though, so it knocks her down a few points.

Flayn: “You have lost your father… Now more than ever do I understand how very lucky I am that you were able to save me. Professor, I deeply appreciate what you have done. Thank you. If there is anything at all I can do in return, please tell me, OK?”

8/10 Flayn is always thoughtful, and it is heartbreaking that she sees that your train of thought might be going ‘I was able to save Flayn, but not my own father’. However, she acknowledges it without making you or herself feel guilty. Well done. I, however, was like not thinking of it that way so it felt like a gut punch to put two and two together lol.

Hubert: “I’ve never been much for condolences.”

-50/10 at least he didn’t fake it lol.

Ignatz: “I’m scared. I feel that I don’t understand the world. How could something like that happen to Jeralt? He was so strong.”

Byleth: Whatever happens, happens. (You can also encourage him to push through)

Ignatz: I suppose, but… Please, take care, Professor! We can’t afford to lose you too.”

2/10 please don’t further catastrophize things to someone who’s grieving lol. I appreciate him complimenting Jeralt though. It’s good to reiterate the good aspects of the deceased. And kind of echoing the unjustness of their passing.

Ashe: “Not just Tomas, but Monica too. We can’t be sure who to trust anymore, can we? Who are these people, really? What do they want?”

1/10 doesn’t really have to do with me. He should go talk to Seteth though lol.

Cyril: “Oh, Goddess, hear my prayer. Please receive this beloved person. When the cold rain washes the body, when the bird and wolf announce the dawn… Receive them into your blue blood. Receive them into a twinkling star. That’s a mourning scripture from the Church of Seiros. Lady Rhea taught it to me. I pray that Jeralt is happy in the next world.”

7/10 he tried <3

Felix and Sylvain:

Sylvain: “Dark expressions don’t suit you, Professor. But I’m… Well, I’m glad to see you out in the world again. It seems this month will be a quiet one around here. There aren’t many knights around to liven things up.”

Felix: “Most of the knights are gone, seeking out the enemy.”

Sylvain: “Isn’t that a bit much? I agree, it’s important, but is it a good idea to neglect the safety of the monastery?”

Felix: “What do you think, Professor?”

0/10 do you all really think I can think about this right now lol. Also Sylvain’s “give us a smile” is never welcome, least of all now.

Lorenz: “There is no one here who has not heard tales of Jeralt’s valor. We have suffered a most dear loss. I do not know what the enemy’s aim was, but I do know this - after what they have done, we cannot suffer them to live. If there is anything I can do to ensure that justice is brought swiftly, you need only give the word.”

8/10 again, speak highly of the deceased to the bereaved! So important.

Hilda and Marianne:

Hilda: “Professor, people are saying horrible things about Marianne! They’re saying she’s friends with the bad guys. If I hear someone say that, I’ll…”

Marianne: “Leave it alone, Hilda. It doesn’t matter.”

4/10 again, doesn’t have to do with me HOWEVER if someone was slandering someone dear to me in the name of my late father, I would want to know so I could do something about it, so valid.

Claude: “I haven’t lost a parent yet, so I can’t even begin to understand how you must be feeling… But even while you’re standing still, the world keeps on moving. I always find that oddly comforting.”

0/10 yes, it is clear you have not lost a parent yet, Claude.

Bernadetta: “Professor? I, um, I brought some flowers for Jeralt.”

Byleth: “Thank you.”

Bernadetta: “It’s the least I could do. Sometimes I feel like all I do is run away… Anyway, I’ll go lay them out.”

10000/10 perfect darling. She reflects a little bit about herself too, but doesn’t make the situation about her, and does something so loving.

Linhardt: “I slipped quietly into the vault and rummaged about, looking for anything we might find useful. There is a group that wants to kill us, after all. What? This is no time for asking permission. I learned long ago that one can ask permission or forgiveness. It is rarely useful to request the former. Still, it appears the knights have already taken everything useful. There were Crest-related objects I thought might be worth studying, so— There you go again with that stern look. Of course I’ll put them back when I’m done. Assuming they bear no additional use.”

-15/10 lmao Linhardt, this was neither comforting NOR useful.

Anna: “I heard Jeralt passed away… My deepest condolences. I knew him long before I ever even met you… He was always so much fun to be around… It’s such a loss…”

8/10 again, love to hear someone speak about the deceased. Very comforting.

Raphael: “You gotta keep yourself active during tough times, Professor. Even if it seems impossible. That’s how I got through when I lost my parents. If you need help with anything, just come see me. Eating and training are my specialties.”

9/10 you know he does understand. Again, I’m not a keep it moving type, but I understand where he’s coming from and that this is what he needs to offer.

Caspar: “I’m not even close to being strong enough. I mean, Jeralt was so much stronger than me, but even he… That’s enough. I can’t dwell on the past. There’s no way to know what my future holds, but I do know one thing. Whatever happens, I have to make my own way in this world. I have to keep pushing so I can grow even stronger!”

0/10 Lol Caspar wtf. Good for you, but I can’t care. Please don’t arbitrarily bring up Jeralt’s death like that.

Dimitri: “Professor! Welcome back… I was… We all were… You’ve been on our minds. Know that your enemies are my enemies. I will do all I can to help you find justice. There is no one else I can… My strength is yours alone. I will fight as you command… I will kill anyone should you ask it of me.”

2/10 please sweetheart, don’t make me worry about you too right now. Started off kinda strong though lol

Petra and Ferdinand:

Petra: “Professor, please lend us your ears. Ferdinand is saying impossible things.”

Ferdinand “I do not see what is impossible about it. All I said was that if you want to go back to Brigid, you probably can. You are…the Empire’s guest, so to speak. They cannot afford for something to happen to you—there would be a diplomatic incident. Someone close to us has turned up dead, so one could argue that you’re not safe here anymore.”

Petra: “You were already told! I am learning here, from the academy. What are you thinking, Professor?”

-20/10 Does Ferdinand know Petra is a hostage? She can’t go home. Anyway, I don’t like how callously he talked about Jeralt’s death and its political implications TO BYLETH. Talk to someone else!!

Mercedes and Annette:

Mercedes: “I’m so glad you’re OK, Professor. I was so worried!”

Annette: “Oh, Professor! You must be starving. Mercie and I made some sweets for you. We were thinking that if you were to eat something sweet, it might help you feel better.”

9/10 acts of service are just the most comforting love language.

Dedue: “It is a shame what happened to Jeralt. I am sorry. There are no words. Leave some flowers on his grave for me.”

6/10 please do that yourself, or at least give me flowers to do it.

Ingrid: “I am so sorry… I never quite know what to say at times like these… Just don’t push yourself too hard too soon. It’s OK to allow yourself to be sad right now. Losing someone dear to you… Well, each loss is unique, but it’s a feeling I know very well. That said… Professor, I…”

7/10 mysterious trail off aside, this is simple and sweet, but talking to someone preoccupied with their own grief is hard.

Leonie: “Captain Jeralt’s gone. He’s gone. And we’d only just reunited… I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sure this is even harder on you. But I can’t— I can’t believe…”

10/10 most important is to know your loved one was loved and Leonie loved him and her grief is palpable, and sometimes you just need to share that together.

Lysithea: “I’m sure you will pull through this because you’re so strong, Professor. Best to stay calm during such tumultuous and upsetting time. We don’t know the nature of our enemies. If we underestimate them, anything could happen.”

7/10 sweet. She did her best.

Dorothea: “I’ve sung the lyrics lamenting death many times on stage… But when something like this happens in real life… I’m lost. I don’t know what to say. But I do know this much… Sir Jeralt must have been very proud to have you as his child.”

100000000000000000/10 this one made me cry the first time I played and it made me cry again now lol. For my personal grief, this was the best response. Please affirm that the deceased loved the bereaved.

#fe3h #fe3h spoilers #grief blogging #this won’t show up in my tags

[celtfather]

Redemption #283

Pain is hard to deal with. Sometimes it feels overwhelming. You can get through it with maybe a little help from Doctor Who. We talk about my song Redemption.

You can learn all about it today on Pub Songs & Stories #283

0:16 - Marc Gunn “By Amazing Grace” from Come Adventure With Me

By Amazing Grace, Hat Came Back, Tartanic

Inspired by the Firefly episode “Heart of Glass”

featuring Andrew McKee of Brobdingnagian Bards and Jamie Haeuser)

4:23 - WELCOME TO PUB SONGS & STORIES

I am Marc Gunn. I’m a Sci F’Irish musician and podcaster living in Atlanta, Georgia.

If you’re new to the show, please subscribe. You can do that PubSong.com or Just send me an email to follow@celtfather.

New Poll: What are your favorite songs on Sci Fi Drinking Songs?

New Merch Bundle: CD, Album Pin, Poster and Songbook for $90

9:32 - UPCOMING SHOWS

MAR 23-24: Sherwood Forest Faire, Paige, TX

MAR 28: Dragon Con Filk Music Concert w/Brobdingnagian Bards @ 8 PM

MAR 30-31: Sherwood Forest Faire, Paige, TX

APR 19-21: Jordan Con, Crowne Plaza Ravinia, Atlanta, GA

Make sure you check the calendar on the Marc Gunn homepage to see the latest list of performances.

10:35 - Vicki Swan & Jonny Dyer “Folk Club Song” from Twelve Months & A Day

15:44 - JOIN THE CLUB

The show is brought to you by my supporters on Patreon. If you enjoy this podcast or my music, please join the Club. You get something new every week. It could be bonus podcasts, downloadable songs, printed sheet music, blogs, or stories from the road. Plus, you’ll get access to videos like my Coffee with The Celtfather video concerts. Email follow@celtfather !

If you can’t support me financially, just sign up on Patreon for free. Special thanks to our newest and returning patrons: Laura Belle, Michelle Powers, James Regan

17:20 - THE STORY OF REDEMPTION

Recorded for The War Doctor | Doctor Who #2.3

Inspired by “The Day of the Doctor” from Doctor Who

Download the “Redemption” MP3

Lyrics and music Marc Gunn. Marc Gunn: autoharp, vocals; Rich Brotherton: bass, guitar, percussion. Mixed by Rich Brotherton

Background

This is a story about finding redemption. In the 50th anniversary Doctor Who episode "The Day of the Doctor", the 10th (Matt Smith) and 11th Doctor (David Tennant) meet The War Doctor. They are horrified and filled with dread to once again see themselves as the man who committed horrible atrocities wiping out the Time Lords and the Daleks with a doomsday weapon.

But after centuries dealing with that pain. They finally come to grips with it. They accept the decision they made even though it caused the death of billions of people. But even better, they remember Who they are. The Doctor. Never cruel or cowardly. Never give up or give in. Doctors give hope. They are finally able to save the people they thought they lost.

Redemption Lyrics

I was so young. I made a mistake That I have never shared. Much to regret. I tried to forget. I ran. That just laid it bare.

To speak the words out loud made me Shudder for the harm I done Now I help the innocent Still I feel the need to run.

* Because I burn. I  burn. It won't cover the pain But it's time I learn. Time I learn. Redemption can come again (x3)

Are great men truly forged in fire? While others light the flame? That's what I tell myself so that I can avoid the blame.

Deep down inside there's a scared little child Smashing statues, filled with fright. Under cover, changing faces To hide away in plain sight

But still I burn. I  burn. It won't cover the pain But it's time I learn. It's time I learn. Redemption can come again (x3)

And still my monsters come from my past They shatter my future bones. Scary to face them, but time will heal Don't have to do it alone

Promise to keep, tho I may weep For the pain I kept deep down Face my fears for 1200 years Hope will turn my life around

No longer burn. No longer  burn. It may not cover the pain But it's time I learn. It's time I learn. Redemption can come again (x3)

26:11 - Marc Gunn “Redemption” from Come Adventure With Me

29:47 - CLOSING

33:25 - CREDITS

Thanks for listening to Pub Songs & Stories. This episode was edited by Mitchell Petersen.

You can follow and listen to the show on my Patreon or wherever you find podcasts. Sign up to my mailing list to learn more about songs featured in this podcast and discover where I’m performing.

Remember. Reduce, reuse, recycle, and think about how you can make a positive impact on your environment.

Have fun and sing along at www.pubsong.com!

#pubstories

  Check out this episode!

#pub songs #stories #Celtic Music #Irish music #best #best of #behind the music #song stories

[isoldio]

i didnt write a poem abt scaramouche for writing club and nobody knew nooo no way. anyway heres my poem about scaramouche

I am falling I am falling through the endless void that is my absent heart As if I ever had one at all.

I hit the floor, my mind going numb The porcelain that makes up my being shattering on impact Yet I dont dare make a sound.

I stay quiet; I accept my fate as a broken creature. Far from human, far from god What am I?

I stare at those who had been the cause of my destruction And I know I have lost. I close my eyes but I do not sleep. I will not die.

I begin to weep. I sob like a lost child The child I have always been inside That I have shoved away for centuries It pours out of me like a river.

There is nothing I would not do to give my life another chance But all I can do now Is cry.

#its my first time is it good heehee #;; chatter

[cherryblossom-chopper]

Hello Liv!

I'm kind of new here and after I must to say- your headcannons where Luffy's child d!ed my heart broken so much-

But I still love it and your headcannons about Strawhats are so accurate, I just- I literally don't have enough words to express how great your writings are!

Also...If it's okay, can I ask for Part 2 of angst about Luffy's child death?..

I mean, I just wonder how would react and treat child! reader if they find out that child is revived? One day , one pirate had a ability to bring back people from death and he accidentally revived reader.

I hope it's too much to ask but if it is - please ignore this message and do whatever you desire! Take care of yourself!

Have a nice day!

I've always really liked Part One so I'm glad to continue the concept. This did get away from me a little bit.

CW: Child Death

-Let's start with Sanji.

-Above all else, Sanji is a fixer. He cares deeply for his loved ones and often expresses great concern for their well-being. So after the loss of his close friend's child, he struggles to help. Sure, Sanji makes all of Luffy's favorites, but the captain doesn't have much of an appetite. Thus when Luffy refuses food for the first time ever, Sanji is at a loss. He doesn't berate his captain for wasting the food because he's so unsettled by such a thing.

-Feeling a bit lost and out of his depth, Sanji spends an awful lot of time reading. Most of the crew has picked up on that during this time, actually. They can all sit together without having to talk; it makes the grief a little easier, and the more talkative Straw Hats can talk about whatever they've been reading instead of having to talk about... other things on their mind.

-Sanji picked up a book he donated to the Straw Hat's (Robin's) collection of books in one of these rather depressing book clubs. He's skimming the pages of the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia when comes across Brook's devil fruit. He nearly lets out a dry laugh as his thoughts wander to a darker place.

-Sanji can't help but wish they had given Brook's devil fruit to (Name). He wonders if Brook feels some level of guilt for having it now, but Sanji thinks it's better not to ask. Though in the next couple of pages, Sanji sees something that piques his interest. The user has the power to resurrect the deceased.

-When he abruptly flees the lounge, no one says anything. Sure they watch him with worried eyes, but one of them rushing out of the lounge, to presumably weep, is no longer new to the Straw Hats.

-Sanji doesn't want to get anyone's hopes up, so he doesn't mention the devil fruit, but he does reach out to Zeff for information. Sanji is anxious when Zeff says he had heard about an older woman performing miracles similar to what the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia had written about.

-Sanji carefully explains his grand plan to Nami, who is immediately skeptical. Nami tries to talk him out of it, thinking it's a hair-brained idea that will lead to so much heartbreak.

-Nami decides that she'll guide the crew to the island Sanji wants to go to, but if he can't ensure that this will help Luffy, she doesn't want to hear about it again. So the crew goes to this mysterious out-of-the-way island, and as soon as the dock, Sanji disappears.

-He's gone for ages and does eventually return with a woman in tow. Sanji can feel the coldest glare coming from Nami when he brings the woman on board. He tries to explain as delicately and clearly as possible what this woman can do for Luffy. The crew is quiet during his speech, but as soon as Sanji's done, Zoro explodes.

-"How dare you insult Luffy that way, how dare you insult (Name) 's memory by bringing a necromancer on board."

-Zoro is so hurt and angry. He largely blames himself for (Name) 's death and hears Luffy's wailing in the back of his mind during all of his waking hours. He remembers clearly (Name) crying out for their father.

-Zoro is shoving Sanji and barking insults in his face so loud that he doesn't even notice that he's crying.

-And for the first time, Sanji lets Zoro shout and yell. He doesn't back down, but he does let Zoro do and say whatever he has to. Sanji understands how deeply Zoro felt the loss of what Zoro considered his own child.

-Eventually, Zoro runs out of steam. He's red in the face and out of breath, and he's suddenly so tired.

-Luffy has been silent during Sanji's speech and Zoro's outburst, but his silence has been pretty common lately. He watches with bloodshot eyes and thoughts going a mile a minute. Luffy considers his options with deep, shaky breaths; he's comforted by Robin rubbing small circles on his back.

-After a few minutes of uneasy silence, Luffy agrees to try. He reasons that the best thing that could happen is that his baby comes back to him, and the worst case is that nothing in his life changes.

-What ensues after is nothing short of the Gods working miracles. The crew can't even confidently say what precisely they witness beyond a flash of light and intense fiery heat.

-One moment, Luffy is rubbing his eyes, and the next, he's seeing his kid looking somewhat bewildered. When (Name) looks up at him, and says "Dad?" Luffy burst into tears. He frantically scoops his kid up in his arms, holding them far tighter than he probably should've.

-Zoro is wide-eyed and out of breath. He looks at the older woman, who is sporting a kind smile. "What did you do? How did you do that?" he asks, approaching her, and she shakes her head while smiling even wider.

-Bewildered and teary-eyed, Nami gives the woman a good deal of money as if money had become no object to Nami. The woman takes it, bids them farewell, and practically vanishes.

-Luffy is overwhelmed with grief and joy, and the words are stuck in his throat. He doesn't know what to say or do all he knows is that he can't let (Name) go. He'll never let them go again because that's his baby, and he can't lose them again.

-Sanji is so unbelievably relieved because he wasn't sure it was going to work. He even gets apologies from Zoro and Nami, who are both widely overwhelmed. He nearly cries when he hears (Name) call him "Uncle Sanji" again. (Name) asked for something to eat, which he was more than happy to do for them.

-Zoro is really shaken by this event. More than anything, he wants to hold (Name) tight, he wants to scold them for scaring everyone like that, he wants to wrap them up in a blanket and never let them go. What he ends up doing is sitting and watching (Name) from a safe distance.

-To say (Name) is flooded with affection is an understatement. Anything they could ever ask for is accommodated. (Name) is confused, feeling as if they'd had a long sleep and nothing more. Robin did her best to explain that they'd been gone for a while, and everyone had missed them dearly.

-To say Luffy improves as a father is an understatement. He wasn't a bad parent, but he was a little reckless; after (Name) was returned to him, Luffy relaxed a bit and was more aware of what (Name) needed.

-In the end, the crew watches (Name) like hawks to ensure that they're safe and happy.

🏷: @winter-peach-fuzz

#cherryblossom chopper #one piece #luffy #straw hats #angst #straw hat head canons #luffy angst #child reader #parent luffy #sanji #robin

[kimtaejin]

La Luxure (m.)

↳ Thank you to @kim-seok-jin for the beautiful banner and dividers, and to @chillingtae​ for helping her with it! ^^

Heartbroken and done with relationships, Y/N decides to vent about her breakup to the sweetest bartender. Yet just a glance in his dark eyes is enough to tell her that maybe, just maybe she won’t spend the night crying for an ex-boyfriend, but drowning in her lust for him instead.

↠ Pairing: Jungkook × f.reader

↠ Word Count: 10.9k

↠ Genres: Angst, smut, fluff, (slight) crack (if you squint)

↠ Rating: 18+

↠ Trigger Warnings: Breakups and toxic relationship, cheating, swearing, physical fight, drama, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, hinted voyeurism, one night stand, long foreplay, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, degrading, creampie

⇢ This story was written as a birthday gift to @rubinora. We hope you had an amazing day! :D ⇠

Soojin: Y/N come quick.

You take a deep breath. I’m almost there, Soojin, I’m almost there. The sound of your footsteps against the pavement is the only thing you hear. You would’ve made it. You would’ve made it in time if it wasn’t for your pesky co-workers.

To the usual person, it is a cool Friday night. 

To you, it is one of the worst days of your life.

… Or maybe you wouldn’t go as far as to call it that. Maybe, in the future, you would even call this one of your good days.

But for now? 

You smile bitterly, uncaring who sees. Right now- there’s nothing more you want to do than scream. Yell. Anything to take away the fury and pain burning bright in your chest.

Your eyes fall on a couple as you pass them by, reminding you of the reason you’re out in the streets this late at night, instead of relaxing at home. 

Jihyuk. 

Your boyfriend. 

Someone you had a deep admiration for. Someone you loved. 

Someone who doesn’t feel the same way anymore. 

It had all started when you had seen him come home hours later than usual. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. You told yourself that he must be out in town with his friends while you were at work, since he must’ve been bored alone. Because the deal is, he wasn’t employed. He had neither a job nor a penny in his bank account.

And that’s where you helped him. You were the worker. You put a roof over his head, you were the reason he had food on the plate everyday. You were there when he needed to buy anything. It felt more like you were a single parent providing for a child rather than a real, romantic relationship. And that should’ve been more than enough of a reason to leave him but you didn’t. 

And now you regret it.

The next thing that came were the hickies on his neck. Purple bruises put on display, with his flushed cheeks- sometimes he was even drunk. Still, you helped him. Still, you gave him the benefit of a doubt, even when his ears turned red when you asked him if he was lying about just hanging out with friends.

Because there was no point in asking and answering. You already knew what he was doing, already saw the truth in his eyes. 

And somehow still, everytime your friends would show you Jihyuk kissing some other girl, every time they’d tell you that they saw him out with some chick, you’d tell them they had to be seeing things. That the pictures could be photoshopped. Or maybe this was just a joke to make you dump him. But those things weren’t things you were saying to them, as much as it was to yourself, to convince your mind that what you saw or heard wasn’t it. It wasn’t the truth. 

The truth is everything that has yet to be revealed today.

And at this point, you had gotten over the crying, the weeping, the sorrow and the regret. What is left is the anger- the feeling of being used. 

You had given him everything, literally everything, only for him to treat you like some side doll. It hurt then. It hurt even now. It hurt a lot, especially on those nights, when you’d greet him after he came home, the smell of perfume thick on his body, lips bitten and swollen, cheeks red and flushed.

“Do you want dinner?” you’d ask, your eyes wandering anywhere but his face. 

“Uh, no, I’m full. I ate out with friends, one of them treated the group.” 

Lies. So many lies, told just so you’d keep him under your wing, protected and financially secured. 

You smile widely even though inside, your heart wrenches. Why couldn’t he just tell you? It wasn’t like he thought you hadn’t noticed his aloof behaviour. How it affected you in turn.

Or did he? Maybe, he just thought that you were actually that dumb.

Maybe you really were that ignorant.

“Oh... okay. Well... I still have to eat,” you waited for this douche. You can’t believe it. Starved yourself so you could eat dinner with him when he probably was out with a girl. “So… do you want to talk as I eat?”

“Uhm,” his eyes met yours for a moment before he turned them away. “Uh- babe, I’m sorry… I’m tired after the long day, so,” he gave you a small smile. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you really want, I can go, but uh, let me take a shower first? Honestly… my, uh, friends can be so rowdy… I’m exhausted, but I guess you were waiting for me and all…”

You bit your lip as the warring thoughts of indignation, and yet also guilt filled you. “No- no, nevermind. If you’re tired,” you clenched your fists, “you should- go rest now.” 

“Are you sure, babe? I wouldn’t want you to think I was avoiding you. Maybe I should-”

“No! No, I told you, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re the only person who understands and loves me best,” he praised you- and you felt a spark of fury, of hate and love grow in your chest. Was that all he could say to you? “See you tomorrow, then,” he said, his smile fainting away before walking past you to the bedroom. You stared at him until he left, until you couldn’t see him anymore as his silhouette disappeared upstairs. 

The next day went similarly. You had arrived at your empty home.

Why?

Then there were days where you felt a little too insecure and asked him instead. 

“Baby, are you… cheating on me?” 

His body froze. He didn’t say anything for a moment, sitting on the couch as you had begged him a little earlier to watch a K-drama with you. Maybe it would’ve made the relationship a little better. Maybe you could’ve bonded. But he only seemed to be interested on his phone screen.

“What makes you say that?” Still, his eyes did not lift up to look at you. 

“Eun says she saw you with this girl,” you muttered quietly, so quietly that you thought he wouldn’t have heard it. But he did. “She must have seen someone else,” he replied in a nonchalant manner.

“But it really looked like you, she said…”

“Do you believe her over me?” You watched him as he finally looked at you. “I’m your boyfriend, for God’s sake,” you bit your lip, then sighed heavily. It didn’t let all the words escape you. “I know, but…”

“If you want to end this relationship, I won’t stop you. But just know, you won’t find a better guy than me. After all, here I am, taking the time to watch with you, and you accuse me of cheating?” 

Maybe you won’t find someone better. But even so, you knew that you didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve the late nights, wondering where he was, why he wasn’t home, if you’d done something wrong. No, you deserved better- and even if that better wasn’t from someone else, it certainly wouldn’t be from him. 

Jihyuk huffed before standing up, wearing his coat and moments later, you heard the front door open and close. Moments of silence filled the room. You waited for Jihyuk expectantly, waiting for it to open and reveal him, but it didn’t. 

“I wish I didn’t meet you.”

You are so over it. You are so over him. 

You and Soojin had decided to catch him in the act. Your best friend had come up with the plan, and initially you had been in denial of it. But you had to end this cycle. You were so tired of it, of the constant stress you had to live with, of the burden that you weren’t supposed to carry.

You chose to set him up. If he agreed to Soojin’s advances, you were going to catch him red-handed and break it off right there and then. 

And he had done exactly what you didn’t want him to. 

Of course he had. You should’ve caught onto him a long time ago, but you really were a fool. And now that disgusted you. Hate intended for him enveloped you for your own self. 

Walking into the dim-lit club, you are greeted by the sight of bodies pushing up against each other on the dance floor, the faint smell of alcohol lingering everywhere you step, and a bar, shining the brightest in the place. Silhouettes with their lips’ on one another, people drinking down glasses of liquor by each second that passed. A part of you is disgusted that Jihyuk took Soojin to a club, and the other isn’t surprised at all. No wonder the marks on his neck, his swollen lips.

Y/N: I’m here.

Soojin: Ok I’m in the bathroom hiding he was getting too close

Y/N: Right... lets meet up at the bar then.

Soojin: Ok!

Walking swiftly to the bar, you hope Jihyuk doesn’t see you, though in the wild crowd, you know he likely won’t.  

You search for a familiar face as you reach the bar. Your eyes wander and land on the blonde that seems to be looking slightly lost. 

“Soojin!” You call out and walk over to her, knowing fully well what is next. “Where is he?”

“Follow me,” you hear her voice above the loud music. Her disheveled figure makes its way to the seats. You can barely see her in the dark place, if not for the neon lightings flashing here and there.

You take a deep breath in.

Under a stray lighting, you catch sight of the hair you used to so fondly caress. Another one beside it, too close for them to be anything but sitting close, closer than friends, and definitely strangers. A few steps closer and you’d be close enough to see them clearly, close enough to catch him cheating perfectly.

Your heart feels numb, for a moment, contrary to before, but- 

Three.

It’s funny how you can hear your heels echoing even in this noisy club. Or maybe that’s the beating of your heart.

Two.

Thinking back on everything that you’d gone through with him, if there’s any emotion that you think you should be feeling right now, it’s disbelief. Why? Did all the tender touches, all the kisses, all the ‘I love you’s mean nothing then?

It must, or else this wouldn’t be happening at all. One.

Yet even so, your ever traitorous heart still weeps at the sight before you, as your gazes both match.

Jihyuk’s eyes widen as he sees you. His lips are pressed to the side of a girl’s neck, and even under the dim lighting, you can see the dark splotches of color on her pale skin. The girl beside him whimpers, leaning in closer, seeking his touches, the way he used to make you feel oh so good, your mind whispers.

He only pushes her away, frozen in place as he locks you down with guilt in his eyes. 

The loud, deafening music somehow doesn’t matter anymore.

“Y/N,” his voice can barely be heard, but for someone like you who’s watched him utter your name with adoration before, you hear him perfectly. 

"Well… I guess I’m not that surprised.” Your words are dry, devoid of feeling. Your fists are clenched. Your smile is wry. “What do you have to say for yourself?" you are going to do this quick, you tell yourself. But the crowd of people overhearing the matter already have their eyes on you. 

As it is, even people lost in the rhythm of the club’s music are interested in your confrontation, bodies stopping in motion, only for strange eyes to stare at you with curiosity instead. 

It’s scary. You can’t do this, a part of you wants to say- but how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone and felt the butterflies dance in your stomach, telling a tale so similar to the one of your lips? How long has it been since you’ve wanted to do something like that?

Your heart burns.

Truth be told, too long. Too fucking long. You’ve spent too much time in misery for you to turn your back on the person that brought you it. You want to be free. Breathe air without feeling suffocated, sleep without having to think about a person being next to you as you do so.

Free, at last. 

“I-” he tries to speak, but you look at him quietly, face devoid of any emotion, only your lips tightening a clue to your current mood.

“Don’t you feel like shit? Leaving me alone on those nights when I actually put a roof over your head, when I’m the main reason you get to eat food every day? Why did you do this to me?” 

You know you sound desperate. Here he is, clearly in the arms of another, yet you’re asking him, staring at him, waiting for an answer, an excuse, but he is able to give none. It only makes it all the worse, it only makes you gasp for more air, because each time he doesn’t reply, the walls get tighter and tighter.

“Fuck, if you wanted someone to give you a good time in bed, why couldn’t it have been me? We were in a relationship!” you exclaim. More people are gathering around, but at this point, you can’t care less.

“Could you not control yourself for once?! Do you have no shame coming home each day smelling like sex? Do you not love me?” The last words leave you as a whisper, your voice choked up and your tone vulnerable. It is evident he didn’t love you, if he did then he wouldn’t have done this. But you still wanted to ask. In case there was the smallest chance that he would give you something to hold onto.

“What about the times that you lied? Do you have no heart?” A single tear slips down your cheek. 

Fuck. You hate this.

Seconds pass, and nothing but his silence answers you. And when he does- it does nothing but rile you even further.

“Babe…” There’s the guilt in his eyes, that’s true, but it’s eclipsed by the panic, the way he’s obviously trying to assuage your anger. Instead of just admitting it. Instead of asking for your forgiveness.

Not that you would at this point, even if he begged on his knees.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he winces and you sharply smile.

“What, you can, but I can’t? Besides, shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? There I was, wondering where my boyfriend was, someone without a job staying out so late without even a message,” you laugh, as though the entire matter is funny to you, but anyone can easily hear the mockery in your voice. “Then I find out he’s in a club, busy whoring himself out.”

He bristles at that, guilt fading into anger as he stands up. “I’m whoring myself out?”

“Well, what else would you call it? You certainly don’t have any money, after all, not even to afford partying at this club. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that why you ask me for money?” At that, you turn to face his previously ignored companion. Seeing the surprise and growing disgust against your soon-to-be-ex, you ask her gently. It’s all too obvious she didn’t know, after all. And as angry as you are, you won’t blame her for something that’s not her fault.

“Miss, dare I ask, did he have you pay for the drinks?”

She startles, but answers you steadily after a moment. “No, not at the start… but he did insist we pay for our own drinks, and then later on, he told me he left his wallet at home…” Realization colors her features as he reddens in embarrassment and anger. “That asshole, I must have spent more than a hundred dollars by now!”

“Tsk, tsk,” you mockingly shake your head at him, a part of you roaring at the highly humiliated look on his face. Just a glance downwards, and you can see how his fists are clenched, perhaps as tight as yours, veins already bulging out. Just a little more, and you could get him to explode. “Here I was, all but raising you, looking after you and feeding you, taking care of you, and you can’t even learn to have basic decency. Maybe I should feel ashamed, after all… more than being a couple in a relationship, our relationship turned more like mother and son, didn’t it?”

At the very end of your words, you raise your head, laughing. Jihyuk’s face colors to the point that it’s almost violet, and you feel vindictive satisfaction fill you.

“Y/N, you bitch!”

“What,” you scoff. “Did I say something wrong?”

If glares could kill, Jihyuk’s would have long gutted you, but it doesn’t, so you continue to hold your head high, smiling nonchalantly. 

His next words make you hiss.

“If you weren’t always so busy, I wouldn’t have to look for someone else. When you came home, you never want to have sex with me, so why is it my fault if I look for someone else, huh!?”

You feel the flames inside you consume you even further, raging inside you and there’s nothing you can do to help relieve yourself of it. Before you know it, you’re stepping forward, arms being raised-

All you want is to make him hurt, like he did you, even if it’s only a fraction of what he’s made you feel. That motherfucker, daring to place the blame on you!?

Hell no.

Hitting him all that matters at the moment- that’s all that runs through your head- but then you suddenly find yourself unable to move, restrained. When you look back, you see Soojin’s face, twisted in worry. 

“Soojin, please, let me go!” You hiss furiously, struggling in her hold, trying to get away. Yet, to her credit, Soojin keeps a tight hold on you, not letting you take another step forward. “Are you seriously stopping me from hitting him!? Are you taking his side!?” You ask her in disbelief, even if you know it’s not like that.

“Y/N, I’m not!” Immediately she shakes her head, yet she doesn’t let you go. “But you know you can’t start this here, you-” she bites down on her red lip, shaking her head. “You can’t. Please, you know he’s crazy, what if he hurts you!”

It doesn’t matter, I’m already hurt where it matters most anyway! You want to shout at her, but then you change your mind, glaring at the man you were once stupid enough to call yours.

“If I was ever busy, or tired, I hope you realize that it was always for you! And if I didn’t want to have sex, what did that have to do with you cheating!? Do promises mean nothing to you!? I never asked you for anything more than you being faithful to me, even when you kept asking me for money, even when you lived free at my house, even when you made me into your personal bank and caretaker! You asshole, motherfucker, I hope you rot in hell where cheaters like you belong!”

“Shut up!” He yells back at you, beginning to step forward, and Soojin is dragging you away- but you hold your ground. Let him come, if he wants-

“Shut up!? How can I when I’m not even done yelling about what you did! What, are you ashamed now!?” Only a step away. “How can there be someone as stupid as you who dares to cheat but can’t admit they did!?” His hand raised, curled into a fist. “Not only that, you just took advantage of me because I loved you! You no good, lying, coward-”

You see his punch descending down on you now, yet still you stubbornly look up at him, gritting your teeth. You won’t say sorry, if he wants to punch you, then let him punch you. 

Yet still, at the last second, your eyes shut by themselves. You’re angry, yes, you’re furious, but it doesn’t take away the fact that you’re well aware Jihyuk’s stronger, and you’ve never been punched before-

A second passes. You feel nothing. Not the feel of his hand against your face, not the harsh, stinging pain that’d come with it, not the screams of Soojin as she cried.

Two seconds pass. Time is a mere fraction of what it used to be, and yet it’s slowly returning to you as you open your eyes, realizing you were seemingly waiting for nothing at all.

Three seconds pass. Your eyes land on the stranger holding Jihyuk’s wrist with a strong grip, brows furrowed with an intimidating scowl on his face. You step back out of fear.

“I assume, when you came in, you knew the rules of this bar,” the stranger says, voice low, a certain weight behind his every word. “No starting fights. What makes you think you’re an exception to that?”

“Let me go!” Jihyuk hisses, struggling to free his arm from the stranger, yet the other just easily holds him back. “Fuck, you heard what that bitch said about me!?”

“You mean, your ex?” The stranger sighs. “I don’t know if you’re just as stupid as she said you were, if you don’t realize that it’s your fault-”

Whatever he says next, you don’t hear, as you take this advantage to step forward-

-and slap Jihyuk as hard you can. 

Your palms immediately sting, but you can’t be bothered to care about that, not when you see the bright red imprint left behind on his face, and the stunned look on his face. Grinning viciously, you hiss at him.

“That’s just a part of the pain you owe me, but considering you’re too dumb to understand something as simple as respect, I’ll just take this as payment.”

“From now on, I want you to fuck off and never appear in front of me again.”

The ringing silence that follows makes you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“... Satisfied?” The unknown man raises a brow at you- and your heart skips a beat for the first time in a while as you swallow, finally calming down a little... It’s loud, crashing, dizzying all at once but you nod at him. Your hands are trembling. You’re about ready to cry but still.

The rest of the words your now ex screams out blur out into the background as Soojin thanks the stranger, leading you away.

The rest of the events happen in what feels to be a flashback you get as you’re taking a sip of beer from the cup leisurely.

The stranger, Jungkook, he had told you his name, was told by your best friend about the problem. He called security, but came first to mediate just in case. After that, he let them take care of Jihyuk. The crowd around you dispersed upon finding out that the scene you had created was over, and Soojin went home after giving you the tightest hug someone had given you in a while now. 

Though she tried to persuade you to go home too, you were in obviously no mood to go home- where every inch of the walls was filled with the presence of your- your ex.

It was only after a lot of convincing and reassuring her that you were safe with Jungkook did she leave, her own baby calling for her.

And you stayed at the bar, quietly watching Jungkook work.

During that time, you find out that he’s, overall, a nice guy. He has a cute smile that shows off his teeth perfectly, dark hair that you could imagine him brushing through with his hand, and the cutest, biggest eyes you’ve seen, like a deer caught in the headlights. Adorable.

What surprises you is that he works as a bartender at this place. Which does make sense now that you think about it. But between your dunk mind and slurred words, every little piece of logic is thrown aside.

He had asked if you wanted him to walk you home. You being… well, you, denied almost immediately. Tonight seemed like a good night to get wasted, after all.

“Whatever you say… but you do have the keys to your apartment, right?” the dark-haired man asks, face resting on his hand. He blinks at you under the bright lights of the bar, staring as you take another sip of the alcohol. “Just so your ex doesn’t get in?”

“Of course, I locked it too,” you roll your eyes slightly, glare set on the table below you as you seethe, remembering him. “He’s probably gonna stay at some friend’s place for the night, the jerk. I hope he does, all his friends live miles away. I took the car keys so he can’t drive either, only either walk or take a cab. And considering he barely has any money left...”

You smirk.

A fleeting smile touches on Jungkook’s face as he regards you with awe. “Huh. I guess you put more to your plan than just charging in and breaking up with him, huh?”

“I’m heartbroken, not stupid. It’s an emotional stupidity, not a mental one.”

You huff, once again laying your head back on the cool glass of the table. Fuck, you’re tired. Not just emotionally, but also physically. The night’s events leave you wanting nothing but to stay and drink your sorrows away, uncaring in which bed you’ll be waking up tomorrow.

After all, it’s not like you’ve been to any besides your own for the past few months. Maybe that will bring you some variety at least. The thought makes you laugh bitterly, and in turn down another glass of alcohol.

You hear someone sigh beside you.

“...Right,” he mutters in response, eyes widening shortly after you take another huge gulp of your drink. You suppose, if anything, Jungkook knows how to make delicious drinks. “Don’t drink too much, Y/N, you’re already-” you watch with droopy eyes as he reaches out to you, your head only propped up by your elbow, before stopping with a sigh. “You’re already drunk.”

Ignoring him momentarily, you finish your drink, savoring the taste.

“Sh-shhhuddap,” you slur, the end of your words becoming a sigh. You set the cup aside, only for your head to plop back onto the bar table, a deep breath making your chest rise up- then down. Jungkook frowns at your small figure laying over the bar, the frown forming into a quiet pout.

“Let me… lemme just drink a little bit more, m-m’kay? ’ll jus…jus’ drink ‘nough to not f-feel...”

Whatever words you’re about to say dissolve into incoherent mumblings as you yawn, feeling the effects of numerous glasses of alcohol finally taking their toll on you.

“‘Night, Kook...”

When you wake up, your surroundings are awfully quiet, awfully dark. That is, until you rub your eyes and can see straight. Jungkook’s body comes into view, hand shaking you awake. His low whispers are barely addressed by your ears, and you numb them out until he kneels down to meet eye to eye with you.

Then a sweet smile plays on his lips, and wow. 

For a moment, you wonder if this is what heaven feels like.

Then he flicks your forehead, and you’re hurtled back to earth.

“Good, you’re finally awake,” he remarks, smile turning wry on his face. You pout in response, getting up. Your head hurts, it hurts bad, and there seems to be nothing you can do about it as you lean over the bar for support. 

“So… urgh, so tired… feeling sick,” you utter beneath your breath, sighing when you realize Jungkook heard it. 

“Why’d you even get wasted then? You’ll have to deal with it now,” he frowns, patting your back. 

“You don’t get it, dumbass. I’m trying not to remember my ex?” you cross your arms, eyes wandering the place.

The club’s a lot less crowded now, barely any people left except for the ones who are cleaning it up. The music is quieter, playing softly in the background as you turn to Jungkook. Closing time already, you guess.

“... sorry,” you finally say, feeling remorse make space in your heart. “I don’t mean to be so crabby, but fuck, I just feel-” You scrunch up your nose as you try to mull over what you say next. “Actually, I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Except- what the fuck was I thinking, letting it go on for so long?”

Jungkook hums, shrugging. “Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has their own stupid moments. I completely understand.”

“Yeah, and mine lasted for god knows how many years,” you grumble.

For a moment he pauses, and you watch him put away bottles.

“You know, you fell asleep quickly earlier,” he suddenly mentions, making you flush. Ah. Right.

“Oh… yeah, I’m sorry about that,” you sigh. “I must’ve caused you a lot of trouble, having to look after me while you’re also busy with your work.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You just broke up with your boyfriend of how many years again?”

“Besides,” he continues, smiling. “If anything, your performance earlier more than made up for it. His face when you slapped him was hilarious.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “... You looked amazing then too.”

“Thanks. … to be honest, just a single slap wasn’t enough, so I definitely had to make it count,” you say, scoffing at the end. 

“Yeah, I figured,” the hint of laughter in his voice makes even you smile. “You didn’t yell at him enough, huh?”

“Nope,” you emphatically shake your head. “Which is a shame, because let me tell you- I have a whole speech in my head for him and his douche-assery. I didn’t even touch on the other major fuck ups he did!”

At that, he really does laugh, and you can’t help grinning yourself. “No, I mean it! I was hyping myself up all evening, but then when I actually saw him, my head blanked and- damn it, I should have let him have it even more in front of all those people,” you dramatically groan.

A smile forms on Jungkook’s face, even his eyes curved into a pair of crescent moons and somehow, it makes you somehow feel better just by looking at it.

“Well, there’s only the two of us left inside now, but if you want, I’ll listen to your speech,” he nonchalantly states. 

“What, really?”

“Really.” He takes a deep breath, turning your body around so you completely face him. “C’mon, shout at me. Vent. I’m the bartender, I’ll listen. Besides, I’m curious to hear how terrible this guy was that you went so far to set him up.”

Reluctantly listening to the alcohol, you sigh before you start listing off all the reasons for why you’ve never felt okay with your relationship with Jihyuk. Jungkook hums and nods along in all the right pauses, quietly telling you to continue.

“... and not just that, he never came home when I needed him most, ghosted me on dates, forgot our anniversary two years in a row, made me break off friendships, never once paid for his own food, never made me cum even once. Like, what a dick!? And I mean the bad kind, not the good one-”

“Wait wait wait…” Jungkook raises a brow, stopping you. “He- He never… made you cum? Not even once?” He stares at you in bewilderment, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief. “He must’ve really had it good,” he crosses his arms. 

“I know, right,” you moan. “What was past me thinking? At this point, I don’t think any man will ever treat me right.” 

The man shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe the next one will.” 

You feel the urge to laugh at the ridiculous statement, though you hold it back. “You’re kidding, right? I’m never getting a boyfriend ever again,” you huff, shaking your head in disapproval. “Boys, pfft- no, thank you.”

Jungkook only turns his back to you in response, walking to the stools of the bar. He huffs loudly as he sits back down, and you can barely contain your laughter before it bursts out of you, ringing loud in the club. Nudging him by the arm to get his attention, you try your best to turn him around, but when he doesn’t, you move to sit next to him instead, on the bartop. The cool glass makes you initially shiver, but you don’t let it show.

“Did you say something?” You grin as you look at him, at the way he rolls his eyes just a little. “I know I heard you say something.”

“It was nothing,” he scoffs.

“Come on,” you cajole him. “You listened to me earlier and let me rant. I’m not going to laugh or be snarky, I swear.”

A moment passes, while you wait for him to speak up. At this point, the silence of the bar is comfortable, though while you look around, you see that no one else is left inside but the two of you.

“...-y’know?”

You look back at him. “Hm?”

“I think it’s just a little sad to declare that every guy out there is hopeless, because of one jerk,” he repeats, back turned to you as he fiddles with the display case.

You lean back on the bartop. “I guess so,” you say. “But it’s true that it’s disillusioning. I used to have high expectations when the relationship started, you know- but now that I ended it, it’s like- what happened? When did my expectations get so low? I deserve better, you know?”

“But it didn’t seem that way to me then. He seemed so great, so amazing… and now here we are. It scares me a little to think that I might fall for someone, only to find out how much of a jerk they are years down the road.”

“But you’ve got to try again, don’t you?” He softly says. “After all, you said it yourself. You deserve better.”

At that, he finally faces you - before glancing down and turning away just as quickly.

“Eventually, though,” he clarifies, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not saying you should right now. Just that you shouldn’t give up on love.”

You chuckle softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

Quiet fills the room again, a comfortable one. You watch Jungkook clean the last of the bar, wiping the surfaces and glasses.

And as you do, you can’t help but think of something a little too inappropriate.

‘I wonder how it’d feel to ride him.’

Okay, maybe it’s absolutely inappropriate. But it’s not your fault, you tell yourself. Not when Jungkook looks that good. Clad in a neat outfit with a silk black vest and a cute bow tie around his neck, he seemed as though he was a five star meal- and you feel yourself starving.

It really doesn’t help that you haven’t had sex in months, nor have you orgasmed in that time. You need release, one way or another.

Still, it’s bad form to ask him, this kind bartender who literally was just consoling you moments ago from a nasty break up if he wants to fuck, so you try to keep the thought down, but-

You extend your leg, toes barely brushing against his back, watching as he shudders at your touch.

Oh?

You bite your lips to stop yourself from grinning.

“Hey Jungkook… why aren’t you facing me?” “I-I need to clean up the bar,” he huffs, but you hear the slight stammer in his voice, and oh, does it make you feel even bolder.

“Yeah,” you nonchalantly respond, “but you’d think you could at least try to appear like you’re listening to me, especially when we were having such a good chat.”

“You-” He stops, sighing, and you goad him even further, slowly feeling more sure the longer he hesitates.When he turns around- finally- you laugh as you slide your arms to rest on his shoulders, trapping him in front of you.

Furthermore, you cross your legs, a daring smirk on your face as you lean forward and over him close, close enough that as you look down at him, the tip of your noses brush against each other. The slight tremors that you elicit out of him at this close range doesn’t escape your notice, and you feel a rush of giddiness fill you up.

“You know, you were so insistent earlier, when we talked about what I deserved. But considering my past experiences, that feels a little hard to believe… do you think you can convince me otherwise?” You hum, fluttering your eyelashes at him. To his credit, Jungkook stills for only a moment, onyx eyes staring straight back at you. As if to ask permission, as if to wait for your next move. But you only continue to smile, letting him know you want this, asking him if he wants it.

Just as you think he’ll pull away, he only answers you back with a smirk of his own- and then, you can’t help but be entranced by the sudden, daring gleam in his eyes. Just as your arms are perched on his shoulders, you feel fingers gently trace over the edges of your lips.

“Why don’t you find out?”

You wouldn’t, normally. One night stands aren’t your thing. You rarely give your heart away, and even more your body.

But tonight, staring at the man in front of you, the challenge and interest visible in his eyes, you find yourself wanting to do otherwise.

Maybe I will, you think. 

And then you dip down to kiss him.

Immediately, you can taste the hint of mint on his lips, the sweet aftertaste of what seems to be banana milk- it’s strange and surprising, not exactly what you’d think a bartender would taste like. It isn’t something you’ve tasted on someone else before either, but as his tongue glides over your lips, silently asking for permission, you find yourself coming to like the flavor. Especially when he kisses you hard enough to make you feel like you’re drowning.

You whimper in pleasure when you suddenly feel him press his bulge against your core for one moment, breaking the kiss only to groan again as he repeats the gesture, grinding your lower bodies together. You can only hold on to his back as tight as you can, feeling the rising tides of lust slowly pull you under its current. A breathless moan leaves you, echoing loudly in the quiet of the empty bar.

“Got something to say, sweetheart?” Jungkook coos, and the words are soon accompanied by a sharp pain on your neck, something that makes the pleasure taste all the more sweeter in comparison. That doesn’t even take into account his hands, which you now notice to be gliding over your stomach, stopping under your breasts as he fondles them and makes you arch back in pleasure for a moment.

“God, just continue doing that,” You whine out and he pauses to laugh, smirk turning into something softer, but just as wild. “Jungkook,” he corrects you, flicking your nipple and you flinch as a sharp wave of pleasure rushes over you. “Don’t call out anybody else’s name but mine, or I’ll punish you.”

‘How can I think about anybody else when you’re making me feel so good right now?’ You almost tell him that, you want to tell him that, but as Jungkook switches his attention from your collarbones to your breasts, tongue lavishing over each mound equally, you find your thoughts slipping away from you.

You don’t even register that you’re being pushed to lie back until the cold glass makes you jerk - and Jungkook firmly keeps you pinned down, another moan leaving you as you feel his fingers probe against your core. You feel him place butterfly kisses down your legs, the touch light yet the effects tremendous on you as you shiver and tremble from each one.

“We barely started and you’re already this wet, huh,” he grins as he slides a finger up your panty, where your slit would be. Juice already coats his finger well, and even though he only teases you against your panties, you find that you’re sensitive, too sensitive not to feel even more turned on by such a small gesture. “Or were you already wet earlier? What a naughty girl.”

“Fffffuck,” you groan, thrusting against his fingers so that they rub against you harder. “Just slip it in already,” you whimper. “Don’t be a fucking tease.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Jungkook purrs as he flicks your nub, making you clench hard at the frustration and anticipation. It infuriates you even more when you feel his fingers leave your skirt, and he leans away a little. You can clearly see the smirk on his face again, amusement swimming with lust in his eyes. “You weren’t being so nice earlier either. Maybe if you were a good girl, I’d listen.”

At that, you pull yourself up, coming closer to him until you bite his shoulder, leaving marks over his neck as well as you can under the raging pleasure. “Or you can listen now, before I make you regret it.” You roll your hips against his, relishing in the quiet groan that leaves him as the delicious friction threatens to drown you both in pleasure.

Honestly, in the face of Jungkook’s ministrations, you find it’s all too easy to let yourself loose, to want more.

You’re surprised when he bends, pushing you back down - and the flash of pain and pleasure on the inner part of your thighs makes you hiss.

“What are you doing?”Jungkook’s answer is light, but the cocky tone is all too evident anyway. “Didn’t you challenge me to make you cum?” Another hickey blooms on your thighs and you whimper as he leaves a trail of them on his way down. “So I’ve made it my mission to make you cum as much as I can tonight.” You feel his nose nudge your panty and you can’t help groaning in anticipation. “Starting with eating you out.”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“A-Ah, I’ve never been eaten out before,” you stammer, heart beating fast as you can clearly feel his hair brush against your skin. Lust, excitement, and yet also nerves envelop you then.

For some reason, you can’t help but feel a little self conscious. No one, not even your past boyfriends have done this, after all.

Still, Jungkook only chuckles. “How mean. There I was, making you drinks the whole night, but you won’t even let me have a taste of you now that I’m thirsty.” You can’t see him over the skirt you’re wearing- why, again, are you still wearing it- but you can imagine the chiding smile, the mischief in his eyes. Especially when you feel him blow on you down there, making you shudder. 

“Look, you’re even overflowing. Bet you’d taste sweeter and better than any wine here.”

With that, your skirt is taken off, and you gasp as you suddenly taste something on your lips. Yet that isn’t the end of it as for some reason, you suck on his fingers, imagining it to be his cock. 

Fuck, you taste good.

Just as that thought reaches you, you think- you want to taste him too.

“Can I, sweetheart?” He asks you again. “I’ll make you feel good.” There’s a chuckle in his words, but before he can say anything more, you tug him up.“Wanna taste you too,” you admit, before blushing. Still, you continue. “So get up here.”

“On the bar top? Kinky,” he grins, but follows your instructions. Moving so that your whole body is laid down on the bartop, you hiss as the cool temperature of the glass makes itself known to your thighs. Not for long though- as the warmth of Jungkook’s body envelops you moments later.

In this position, Jungkook’s crotch faces you, and you find your mouth watering over it. Eager hands cup it for a moment, before you pull down the zipper and admire his member.

God, even his dick is pretty. 

Long and veined, what it lacked in girth, the slight curve certainly made up for it. You immediately took it into your mouth, moaning around it when you felt him move your panties to the side and immediately dived in.

On Jungkook’s side - he loves it, every single second of it. He loves how he can make you a mess, how he can wreck you, you bucking up your hips to meet him as you suck and moan around his dick. There is something about you that he couldn’t help but be attracted to. He can’t believe your ex had cheated on you. Just from that moment in which you confronted your ex, he could sense that you were far, far more better than any girl he had ever seen.

Moans and whimpers filled the room as you tremble under Jungkook. Every lap of his tongue, sucking on your nub- hell, just the way he moves his tongue inside your walls is enough to make you push your thighs together.

The pleasure inside you only rises higher and higher, making you continuously grind your hips against his face. True, it’s the first time someone’s eaten you out, but all the same you know you wouldn’t cum just from it if the other person wasn’t good enough.

Jungkook aims to go beyond your expectations it seems. In response, you take him in even deeper, slightly gagging on his dick. One hand reaches out to fondle his balls, rolling them over your hand. Soft, pliant in your hold. You squeeze them slightly, and a sense of accomplishment fills you as you feel him physically stutter, thrusting his dick deeper into you. Jungkook is obviously way more experienced though, or perhaps it’s a sense of competitiveness that’s driving him to make sure you come first, because as you feel something inside you continue to tighten - you pant, recognizing the signs of an impending orgasm. A distant part of you is amazed you could reach an orgasm so quickly - the other is very, very pleased.

“I’m... so close,” you say through uneven breaths, chasing your high. His tongue works at an even faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. Your walls tighten around his finger, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel it. “Then come for me, sweetheart,” you hear him say.

And that does it.

White warmth, inside and out. Your lower body jerks against him, but Jungkook only rides out your orgasm with you, lapping up the juices that gush from you, the messy sounds of slurping and sucking turning you on even more, if that’s possible. You feel feverish, your oversensitive clit being given a little too much attention. What more, the feeling of your body contrasting against the cold surface of the bartop, shivering a little when his finger traces the curves of your body as you continue to feel the last trembles from your orgasm.When

 he finally leans back, Jungkook smiles at the glistening digit and licks his fingers clean. You taste even better than he thought. Truly, you’re an angel. Just as he prepares to get off of you, you give one good suck to his dick, making him jerk. For you, you can feel his hard member twitch in your mouth - and it doesn’t take much to figure out that Jungkook himself is close to release. Still, as he lets out a quiet groan, he moves away. You make to protest, but-

The way he quickly moves on top of you, fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt and grinding his member against your core makes you moan, long and loud.

“I don’t wanna cum just yet,” his voice is distinctively lower now, and something heady rushes through you at the realization that you did that. He hisses when you experimentally roll your hips back against him.

Hunger like you’ve never known spreads across you like a wildfire. You want all of what Jungkook has to offer.

“You ready, sweetheart?” He cooes. “You’ll have to be quiet if I put it in, don’t want anyone else hearing how beautiful you sound when I’m fucking you thoroughly.”

Instead of answering, you meet him up in an eager kiss, your hands spreading across his chest - God, you don’t know when he unbuttoned his shirt, but you’re definitely thankful he did. Otherwise, how could you so clearly feel the muscles on his smooth skin?

And then you feel him enter you and fuck.

If what you felt before was something new, then this was definitely out of this world.

Jungkook’s dick fills you up just perfect, the wetness of your vagina and the slick on his dick makes the slide inside so much smoother, and both of you sigh in pleasure. For a moment, you’re both content to lie like that, just basking in the feeling of being connected to each other. 

He himself doesn’t know how to explain it, how you differ from others. Everything you do somehow seems to draw him in, and in this moment- he feels like he could just stay like that forever and be content.

You, on the other hand, feel different.

“Jungkook, please, move already,” you eventually plead. Your body arches up as he pulls out for a moment, before beginning to thrust his hips into you at a fast rate, clearly giving you no mercy. Fuck, how in the hells did you ever think any previous sex you had could compare with this?

It’s easy to lose all coherence in this moment, the overwhelming feeling of bliss making you think of nothing but Jungkook’s dick, and the way he drags it against your walls, teasing you before slamming it inside, drawing out the pleasure and then drowning you in it.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounds in the empty room, alongside your mixed groans and whimpers. Jungkook spares you no mercy, and you soon find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, this one even more intense than the last. It doesn’t help that you feel him leave hickeys over your chest, biting and then soothing them afterwards, sliding his tongue over them. Tears prick your eyes as the pain and the pleasure mix together, making each feeling all the more intense to you.

Fuck, where had he been all your life? You’ve never felt so good in sex- not like this, not with your previous encounters. But right here and right now, you swear that if there’s a god, then Jungkook must have been his favorite, and you were blessed to have been touched by him.

“J-Jungkook, I-I’m coming again-!” Rather than slow down, it seems your words just urge him to fuck you harder, faster, making you sob as another wave of pleasure threatens to drown you under. 

“Then come all you want,” he growls, dragging you into a fierce kiss, wanting to taste you- but also to silence you. 

“A-Ah!” You scream out, panting, as you ride another wave of orgasm-

The harsh smack on your bottom makes you jerk off the table with a sob. Jungkook hisses as he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty- but not for too long, as you’re turned over, and he shoves his cock back inside your hole. You moan, long and loud in pleasure, before you feel another smack on your bottom.

“What part of ‘keep quiet’ didn’t you understand?” He reprimands you sternly, each word accentuated by a hit on your bottom that makes you jerk, each time. “I told you to be quiet, or we’d both get in trouble. There’s still the club’s bodyguard standing outside. If he heard us, how much do you want to bet he’d come in and see your pretty little body all laid out under me, huh?”

“I-” You try to explain, but end up heaving deep breaths instead as he thrusts his hips particularly hard, leaving you a whimpering mess as you drop your head onto the table again, the ache at the back of our head barely being addressed by your numb mind.

“You what?” He growls, hands snaking forward to pull your head back with your hair- making you groan as he lowers himself right next to your ear. “You what, Y/N? Got nothing to say right now?”

He tsks. “Or maybe him seeing you is what you want. How many hours has it been since we just met, and how you’re gladly taking up my cock in your cunt right now? I guess you’re nothing but a slut.”

“I-I,” You try again, but all that remains in your head is him calling you a slut. The humiliation it draws from you, reddening your cheeks, somehow only serves to make you feel even more aroused. You can’t think of anything else, but how to just push yourself back into Jungkook’s dick because clearly, he is drawing it out and depriving you of what you need!

“What are you, Y/N?” his voice is hoarse as he asks, his dark hair a mess that covers his beautiful face. “...Wanting others to see you looking so pretty for me,” the knot in your stomach tightens as you try to think of a reply, yet nothing comes. Fuck fuck fuck.

“I don’t, I-” you stop. You can’t, you just can’t, if you don’t get what you want right now, you might as well die.

“Disappointing,” he clicks his tongue dismissively, and you feel your eyes burn out of desperation. “And here I thought you’d be good for me?”

“I’m sssssorrryyyy!” You whine out when he won’t let you off, the tears falling down your face now. “I’m a slut! A fucking slut! Your slut,” you cry out. “P-Please, put it back innn!”

“Mm, I still don’t know,” he drawls. “I already warned you to be good earlier, but you just kept on pushing me. And now you clearly disobeyed me. Only good girls, not sluts, get rewards, don’t you think?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, whimpering. “Please, I can be good, so please-!”

Hands rub your bottom, a slight sting reminding you that he’d already hit you there earlier. Yet somehow all it did was make you even more sensitive to not just the pain, but also heightening the pleasure you felt.

“If you take your punishment obediently, I might let you off,” he suddenly offers. Jungkook’s voice has become sweet again, soft and sticky and coaxing. Not that you need it though, considering he has you in his palms either way.

Not to mention that the thought of the punishment at hand makes your core throb.

You bite your lips, hoping that he doesn’t see how flushed you are. You don’t doubt that you’re dripping down so much on the glass bartop that at this point, that there must be a puddle right below your cunt. But at the thought of what he’s about to do, you feel yourself secreting even more. “Oh?” He chuckles, dragging a finger along your clit. At this point your labia are puffed up, swollen with Jungkook’s relentless attacks on it, but still it doesn’t hide how aroused you are at this moment. All it is is overly sensitive, and still asking for more. 

“Seems to me that you like that, huh? I guess I was right. Being good doesn’t suit you at all, slut,” he tsks. “You just wanted to get punished.”

“I-I can take it,” you meekly tell him, shaking your ass a little. At the sight, Jungkook smirks wickedly. “Alright then. I want you to count each strike, sweetheart. And if you lose count, we’ll be starting all over again. … Do you understand that?” 

Near the end, you hear Jungkook’s tone soften, and it’s all too easy to hear the way out he’s offering you. You want it, though. “H-How many?”

He pauses, before continuing. “How many do you think you deserve?”

You swallow loudly. “I… I don’t know.” You bite your lips. “I’ve, uh- I’ve never been spanked like this before.”

You feel embarrassment course through your veins for a moment as Jungkook freezes, and you wonder if you should’ve just said a random number-

But then the loud smack of a hand against your ass rings out loud in the room, and you jerk wildly against the bartop, a silent scream in your throat.“Until I say stop, then. That was one already,” Jungkook purrs. 

You whimper, but nod along as he starts.

Smack!

“Two!”

Smack!

“T-Three!”!

Smack! 

“F-Four,” you whimper.

At each hit of his hand against your ass, you can’t help moaning, louder with each one. Jungkook’s hands are swift, and absolute- no mercy left for you, only his feather-light gentle caresses after each hit making you weep.

At the eight count, you’re absolutely gone, panting, a mess of tears and pain and pleasure and overall just too fucking sensitive. But the sheer amount of thrill and joy that settles in you as Jungkook finally stops is just short of euphoria, and you look up at him, your eyes pleading for his praise and reassurance.

Sure enough, Jungkook doesn’t disappoint.

He slides you off the counter and into his arms, your legs crossed around his, into a long, sweet kiss, swallowing up the sounds that leave your lips, the little whimpers and groans.

“You took your punishment so well,” he compliments you as he pulls back, making you preen. “I suppose you deserve a reward then, don’t you?”

“P-Please,” you plead, rutting your core against his erect cock. It slides against your core all too easily, making you groan. Still, you don’t dare put it inside, waiting for Jungkook’s permission first.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins, and-

Jungkook’s kiss swallows up the scream that leaves you as he thrusts back into your hole in one smooth movement, bringing you back into that land of sheer pleasure and lust.

In this position, held up in the air only by his arms, you keenly feel every movement of his cock inside you as he bounces you, forcing you to go up and down repeatedly. You’re almost delirious, your hands no doubt leaving scratch marks on his body as you hold him as tight as you can, feeling everything just too much.

It doesn’t take more than a minute or two to bring you to your third orgasm. It seems that Jungkook himself senses that as well, because the moment you feel it coming, he speeds up his thrusts again, making you scream. 

“J-Jungkook!!” You wail out his name as one final jerk of his hips brings you crashing down, bliss enveloping you fully as you almost white out, spasming and losing control of your body for a moment.

When you come to, a second later, you feel him desperately moving in you, but the stuttered way he does so tells you all you need to know.

“W-Where should I cum?” He grits the words out his teeth, and you hiss in pleasure, in over-sensitivity and pain as his member remains inside of you even after you’ve orgasmed for the third time. You’re determined to get him to come as well though, something warm blazing in your chest. You don’t owe favors, and you won’t anymore, so maybe that’s the reason why.

For whatever reason it truly is, though, you tell him with a steady voice. “Just come inside me,” you give him permission. Jungkook groans at that, looking straight at you, as if to ask, are you sure?

You nod, drawing him into a sweet kiss. There’s nothing but elation inside you at this moment.

When you squeeze his member inside your cunt, you moan as you feel him paint your walls white, something hot and warm and sticky filling up your cunt. If your nails didn’t leave marks before, well, they had to by now.

It’s only when you feel it drip out of you that you finally pull back from the kiss.The both of you are panting, visibly exhausted, though you’re pretty sure Jungkook can still run a lap around the club, while you’re all ready to collapse on the floor. Fuck, where does he get all that stamina from?

“I work out at the gym.” The amusement visible in his eyes as he answers you tells you that you probably spoke out loud. Sheesh.

“Yeah, you were.” Jungkook’s chuckle brings your attention back to him, and you blush for the first time since a while now, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder. Honestly, if you tried to move right now, you don’t doubt you’d just lay down on the floor, so you opt to remain in his hold.

That decision definitely wasn’t influenced by how secure you felt in his arms, or how good he smelt, even after you both just had sex.

His chuckles turn into laughter- and you’re only dimly aware of it as he sets you down on a nearby sofa, grabbing a washcloth nearby to start wiping you off.

When you look down at him again- it’s as if he’s seamlessly switched back to the adorable guy you met earlier. Huge, doe eyes and bunny smile on display as he grins happily.

It’s then that you hear the door to the bar being clicked open, and you’re thrown back into reality. 

“If you’re done fucking on top of the bar, I think it’d be good if we officially wrap things up around here,” you see a blond man barge through, wearing a poker face despite the words that make even more heat rise up to your cheeks. The connotations of the sentence… you’ll ignore that.

“And I think that included your dick, but okay,” he eyes Jungkook warily. He looks at you for a brief moment, before clicking on his tongue as he shakes his head.

“Anyway, out of this place, both of you, before Seokjin-hyung threatens to kill me again for not being a good enough caretaker.”

“And what exactly were you doing while we were… in here, Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook raises a brow out of suspicion. 

“Sleeping. Now hurry up.”

Peals of laughter escape Jungkook, even as both your cheeks redden at being caught.

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook reassures him, before turning back to you. “Let me just finish up cleaning that mess, and we’ll get you home for real,” he tells you softly. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he lays you down to rest.

“Take a quick nap in the meantime, okay?”

Giggling under the blanket of the dark night, you run under the bright stars as the stars reign the heavens above your heads. With Jungkook hand in hand, you experience freedom like you’ve never felt before.

The gentle breeze of the cold wind at 2 am, in perfect contract to the feel of his warm hand enveloping yours is the sweetest sensation, one of accepting, letting go and moving forward.

You swear you’ve never laughed like you do when you dash through the abandoned streets of neighborhoods too hazy for you to remember in detail. His laugh rings in your ears like the song of an angel, a far cry from your own booming one that he still loves all the same. It’s beautiful, quiet, made for you two alone.

Reaching your apartment, Jungkook helps you into your adorable dragon onesie before tucking you into bed, the softest smile on his face. It hurts a little to leave you so quick, he wants to stay, he wants to spend the night beside you, but for tonight… maybe all that you have done so far is enough.

Maybe once morning arrives, the sunrise announces his fall. Maybe you won’t even remember him.

Thinking so, his trembling hand reaches out to cup your cheek.

Then he stops.

Goodnight, Y/N.

Morning comes. You groggily roll out of bed, heading straight for the kitchen to get yourself a cup of water. Your head is in shambles, too filled to think of anything more, too empty to think of anything less than the sticky note your eyes land on.

It’s stuck to the microwave that’s sitting on the counter, a stupidly lovable green note. Taking careful steps towards it, you peel it off to read what’s written, eyes widening a little.

‘here’s my number! call if you want :D

I also left some hangovers in here. 

make sure to eat them and stay safe~

hope to hear from you.                           xx JK.’

Your heart flutters in excitement and love for the note as you pull it close, hugging it as much as one could a sticky note. You smile softly, hand tracing the curves of the writing, the action all too sweet and unexpected. Running to get your phone that must be somewhere around here, you start to jump around in the search for it out of nervous elation.

There’s so much more you want to do with Jungkook, but - you just can’t wait to hear his gorgeous laugh again.

All rights reserved © 2020 kimtaejin. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed.

#bangtanhq #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #jungkook angst #bts x you #jungkook x you #fic: la luxure

[freddiefiction]

Hey! Can you write something about Freddie crying for the first time in front of Jim? Love youuuu💙

Jim isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry in his life.

Every man has a temper, but this seething, red hot rage leaves a burning sensation in his chest and he’s almost certain there is steam coming out of his ears. But beyond all the anger and resentment, he feels like his heart has been trapped in a vice, getting tighter and tighter until he’s certain it will shatter in half.

He thought they were past all this. The cheating, the mind games, trying to resolve their problems with passionate make up sex. Apparently not. Watching Freddie sandwiched between two complete strangers, grinding against them like a bitch in heat, had been the last straw for him. He had grabbed his coat and marched right out of the club, not even glancing at Joe who called after him worriedly. He got a cab back to Garden Lodge and began packing his things the moment he set foot in the bedroom.

He’s just finished zipping up one of his bags when he hears the front door to the house slam shut. He doesn’t let this deter him; he returns to the wardrobe and begins rifling through the drawers for his shirts as the sound of footsteps on the stairs get louder. He doesn’t even turn around when the bedroom door swings open.

‘Jim?’ Freddie’s voice is timid, clearly anticipating a screaming match. Jim isn’t about to give him the satisfaction. ‘Darling, what are you doing?’

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ Jim snaps, shoving an armful of shirts into his case. ‘You’re clearly fed up with me, so I’m doing you a favour and leaving.’

Freddie’s dark eyes widen in horror. ‘But…I don’t want you to go.’

‘Could have fooled me.’ Jim scoffs. ‘I was beginning to feel like a third wheel with you and your little friends.’

Colour floods into Freddie’s cheeks and he lowers his head in shame. ‘It…it didn’t mean anything, Jim. I was just-’

‘Trying to make me jealous?’ Jim interjects, finally turning and facing the man. ‘Playing your stupid little mind games, hoping I’d come over and start a row? You should know by now that that shit doesn’t work on me, Freddie. It might have worked on the other blokes you’ve messed around with, but not me.’

‘Darling, don’t be like this.’ Freddie approaches him and runs his hand over Jim’s belt suggestively. ‘Why don’t you sit down and let me take your mind off-?’

‘Don’t you dare.’ Jim lifts a finger and points it right at Freddie’s face. ‘Don’t you dare think you can make this all go away with a quick fuck.’

Freddie keels back, looking stung. ‘Jim-’

‘I don’t want to fucking hear it. I thought I made myself clear when I told you to make up your mind about what you wanted, but clearly I didn’t say it loud enough. I’m not sticking around to be your little piece on the side. I’m done.’

Freddie tries to reach out and take his hand, but Jim snatches it away like he’s touched a hot stove. He forgets about the rest of his things – he can have Phoebe send them along later, wherever he ends up – and grabs the two bags, pushing past Freddie to get to the landing. He barely reaches the stairs before Freddie is hot on his tail, seizing one of the rucksacks and pulling it with all his might.

‘You’re not leaving!’ Freddie cries, his voice frantic. ‘You can’t go, I won’t let you!’

‘Get off!’ Jim tugs the bag so hard Freddie loses his grip and ends up on the floor. ‘I’m going to be staying with John Rowell until I find my own place, so have the rest of my stuff sent there.’

He descends the staircase, pausing a moment to adjust the strap over his shoulder. He almost makes it to the last step before he hears a loud sob from behind him; Freddie is sitting at the top of the stairs, hands covering his face as he weeps into them like a lost and frightened child. Almost instantly, all the anger and resentment clouding Jim’s heart begins to melt away. He’s never seen Freddie cry before, not like this. It makes him realise just how vulnerable the man really is.

Jim sighs and sets down his bags, crouching on the step just below where Freddie is sitting and putting his arms around him. Freddie clings to him immediately, arms winding around his neck and holding on tight.

‘Don’t leave me.’ Freddie wails into the Irishman’s shoulder, soaking it with his tears. ‘Please, please don’t leave me, Jim. You’re right, I was being a stupid, selfish bastard. I just wanted your attention; I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so sorry, darling. Please don’t go. I love you.’

Jim just kneels there and lets Freddie cry everything out, wondering how aware his boyfriend is of the pull he has on him. No matter how angry he gets, how many times he walks out the door, he always finds himself returning to Freddie’s arms. Some would call him a fool. Others would say it’s simply fate.

Jim waits until the Persian has calmed down before gently murmuring into his ear. ‘I’m serious, Freddie. No more games. I love you, and I want to be with you more than anything, but if you’re not serious about us-’

‘I am, Jim, I am!’ Freddie whimpers, pulling back and cupping Jim’s face, peppering it with desperate kisses. ‘No more games, I promise. Just stay, Jim. Please, stay.’

Jim doesn’t see a lie in Freddie’s teary eyes. He leans forward and kisses him deeply, reaching up to wipe away the last remaining tears sticking to his boyfriend’s jaw. ‘Alright, I’ll stay. It’s going to take me some time to forgive you though, Freddie. You’ve really hurt me.’

‘I know, lovie. I’m so, so sorry.’

They remain there cuddling on the stairs, basking in the comfort of each other’s arms. Deep down, Jim knows that he could never really leave for good; being Freddie Mercury’s boyfriend is anything but smooth sailing, but he’s willing to fight tooth and nail to keep what they have.

#jimercury #jimcury #jimercury fanfiction #oneshot #my writing

[wallyaxiom]

THE HAWKINS.

WALLY HAWKINS 

Wally never imagined in life they would be where they were now. they dreamed of it night and day. they just just never thought they’d be one of the lucky ones. jim had been a blessing in disguise. after almost giving up on love they found it once again with jim. he was supportive of wally’s endeavours and amazing father. the pair worked well together. support and love flowed both ways equally. wally worked hard to make their career happen. there was never a right time especially with two kids so wally stopped waiting for something to fall into their lap and took matters into their own hands. soon they went from doing local musicals to eventually getting their big break when they were cast as pippin’s understudy in yet another revival of the show and a true sutton foster moment happened for them. when the lead was sick wally went on and as they say the rest was history. after a few more broadway shows wally was cast in a movie musical that cemented their star quality and allowed them to transition from the stage to screen. the role they’re best known for is captain alcyone in the astra odyssey trilogy. as for today ? wally is still acting. they’ve dabbled in other facets as well but the screen is their home. besides their career they forged a beautiful life with jim. together they have five wonderful little stars. wally’s little family ( and extended family because let’s be honest the hawkins kids have so many pseudo aunts and uncles ) mean everything to them. with jim back from space they’ve put off any major projects to spend time with their husband. they’re dealing with the feeling of an impending empty nest. when percy eventually moves out wally will be a mess for at least two months. 

JOSH AXIOM-HAWKINS

the oldest of the hawkins clan josh has always been the quiet one though that never made him weak. he’s protective of his siblings and those around him. being part of fight club also made him brave. it was hard not to be when he had such strong willed people as his friends. while he doesn’t apologize for his existence anymore josh is still very much the the soft one of the group. opting to suffer in silence or in his words than letting someone see him crumble. josh became a successful author and is working on the second book in his lost galaxy series. although he’s the child of a famous parent and has found fame himself, josh prefers a life away from the spotlight. he’s been dating dante mcqueen for a while. last time we saw josh he was freaking out about marriage and being a good father to carolina. after a talk with his father, any doubts josh had have all but vanished. life had come full circle. he is now to carolina what jim was for him. beautiful isn’t it ? he’s still not keen on marriage but he’ll happily spend the rest of his life with dante. ring or no ring.

abilities: chlorokinesis. it’s heavily tied to his emotions. when his feelings are intense plants correlating to said feeling will pop up on his body ( i.e thorn when he’s angry, weeping willows when he’s sad etc. )

fun links:  pinterest. playlist. connections guide.

wanted connections: josh has many connections as it is so i’d like to give my other kids a chance in the sun. if you’d really like to plot with him let me know. 

ASTERIA HAWKINS

a little name change never hurt anybody. while andi took after their dad, asteria was soft like their mom. she’s always put others before her & doesn’t really stand up for herself. bubbly as can be and kind of boy crazy, asteria is a little naive, sure, but one of the kindest girls you will ever meet. fashion is her passion. as a teen she fell head over heels for a boy who didn’t exactly have the best reputation but asteria saw the good in him anyways. her father disapproved ( most of her family did ) but she didn’t listen. so when she fell pregnant asteria imagined she’d have the perfect family she always dreamed of. it was perfect until their daughter, emily, was born and her boyfriend left her without a word. he said she deserved better than him but asteria wishes he would have figured that out sooner before leaving her with a child to raise alone. despite how soft she was asteria knew she’d be fine. she was a hawkins aftereall. that was two years ago and asteria and emily are happy just as they are. she currently has an internship at vogue. she hopes to take over her mom’s fashion business in the future to carry on the legacy.

abilities: gravity. similar to ochako uraraka from mha. she’s able to make things float but if used too much she gets motion sickness from the zero gravity. 

fun links: pinterest. playlist. connections guide.

wanted connections: asteria got a soft restart !! she’s in need of some connections. i’m open to anything and everything with her.

ANDI HAWKINS

asteria might have been five minutes older than andi but that never mattered much. she’s her father’s daughter to a t. loves to question authorities, loves to get into fights and loves to be right. she’s the girl that will stand up for what’s right even if it means standing alone. she didn’t get her siblings charisma or approachability. andi is prickly at best. a no bullshit kind of gal. if you think jim is intimidating wait to you meet her ! she’s brutally honest and will make you cry if she doesn’t like you or if you mess with her family. the only people who ever sees her softer side is her fiance nina mcqueen or her father. her dad is her favorite what can i say ? she’s recently graduated from harvard law and is ready to do big things.

abilities: photon energy. similar to captain marvel. she can fly and blasts photon energy from her hands. if she uses it too much she gets overheated. 

fun links: pinterest. playlist. connections guide.

wanted connections: a rival of sorts andi is very competitive so i’d love for her to get her frustrations out, maybe an ex-hookup ?? a small, small fling before nina. an enemy, andi can be brutal so i’m sure she’s hurt some feelings along the way.

#waltnextgen #* .・ got me upside down spinning around queue » this is a queued post.

[shirtlesssammy]

4x12: Criss Angel Is a Douchebag

Then:

I always trusted her.

Now:

Let me start by exclaiming Barry Bostwick is in an episode of Supernatural! I often forget because I don’t rewatch this episode that much. I don’t know why. It also has the PI from House and a cool Prestige vibe to it. 

Anyway, Barry Bostwick Jay is trying to impress a young bartender with a neat card trick, but messes up the shuffle. Another magician mocks him from across the bar. A companion admonishes his rudeness. The man is clearly drunk and comes over to ruin the trick.

The bartender tells the guy to “leave the old guy alone.” Oof, Barry Bostwick will never be old. (I weep thinking how old this episode is now!) 

Later, Jay and two companions, Charlie and Vernon, mock a Criss Angel-like illusionist practice his stage performance. (I recognize one of his companions because I watched Fletch in my youth more times than a child should). Jay tells them that this “douchebag” isn’t the joke, they are. They’re washed up old men, and their magic days are behind them. He announces that he’s going to do the Table of Death that night. It’s crazy talk! 

Cut to Jay on stage about to perform the Table of Death. He gets locked into the table and glaces at the spikes above him. AlL iS GoOd! Charlie pulls the curtain and walks off stage to share grim looks with Vernon. 

Drunk Magician leaves the bar, with the warning by his companion that his show is in an hour. A man in a cape need not worry about time! 

The Table of Death is looking more death-y as the seconds tick. Jay struggles to escape his confines. The fuse burns down to the rope. The music escalates. The spikes drop. And Drunk Magician grasps his chest. The curtain is pulled back to reveal a fully intact Jay. He did it! Hurrah! Drunk Magician though? He’s dead on the street, puncture wounds dotting his white tuxedo shirt. No, Barry Bostwick! 

Criss Angel-lite is performing a “demonstration” on the street to onlookers. This is not a trick. It’s a “demonstration about angels and demons.. love and lust..” And that’s it. That’s the story of Supernatural. They’re not trying to trick us guys. Anyway, Dean and Sam approach in their FBI garb. Dean is skeptical but Sam, the nerd’s nerd that he is, knows how the guy is. He’s Jeb Dexter, kinda famous for “douchebaggery”. He does his little trick and the crowd is impressed. 

Dean remembers that Sam went through a faze of liking magic when he was 13. Dean doesn’t understand the appeal of playing the act when there’s actually magic and demons out there. And I ACHE For HIM. AND Sam. Like, Sam was able to indulge in the playing of the supernatural and mystical because of how Dean raised him. Dean didn’t get the chance to play at anything. Bby Dean, you escape into your soap operas and horror movies where the good guy always wins! Take a break. 

They’re in town to investigate Drunk Magician’s Vance’s death. His assistant makes it clear that he wasn’t well liked in the community. Dean asks about weird stuff with him and she shows them the Ten of Swords tarot card. 

Charlie and Jay talk in Jay’s hotel room. Charlie wants to know how Jay pulled off the Table of Death. 

Jay is super pumped about his new super magician powers! He can do amazing card tricks! He’s ready to try the Executioner! That sounds...wise. He’s better than Houdini! Charlie doesn’t want him to do it. He won’t watch Jay die. 

Later, at the venue, Dean interviews Vernon about Vance. Jeb really is a douchebag. He’s interviewing Jim Jay, “a wicked cat that came before [him]”. Vernon used to use the tarot deck in his act, but that’s been years ago now. Dean wonders if he knows anyone that uses the deck now. They send Dean away with a vague “guy down on Bleecker Street” lead. Dean, how can you not see through them!? Anyway, they send him to a place where he’s supposed to ask for “Chief”. 

Dean goes to see “Chief” and is led to a very dark and dreary basement. And he gets to meet “Chief”. 

Ruby show sup at Sam’s door telling him that he’s got to get back into fighting form. The seals are breaking. She tells him he needs to go after Lilith if he wants to stop all this. (Sure, Jan.) If Lucifer rises, “oceans of people” are going to die. Sam needs to start drinking that demon blood again! 

Dean and Sam meet up at the magician show. We overhear Vernon and Charlie discuss talking Jay out of doing his latest trick. Dean calls them out of sending him to the “Chief”. They call him out on being a fake fed. Touche. They cover by saying they’re actually doing research beause they’re aspiring magicians themselves. 

Jay’s act starts. 

Jay gets trussed up in a straight jacket and noose. (Jeb preens in front of his mirror.) He has 60 seconds to escape. The curtain is drawn. His shadow struggles. (Jeb continues to preen. A noose uncoils and snakes it’s way around his ceiling fan.) The time runs out. Jay seemingly falls to his death. (Jeb meets Mr. Rope and dies instead.) Jay’s FINE! Dean is SO impressed (Like, bby is ACTUALLY impressed, sweet child.) Sam has doubts. (Jeb is dead dead dead.)

Back at their motel, Sam and Dean pore over the lore - or at least over Jay’s bio. Once a “big deal” magician, Jay’s slid into obscurity. They’re speculating that the culprit is a death transference spell. “I hope I die before I get old,” Dean says, and I hiss like a cat who has just been dunked in a lake. Sam yearns to live long enough to marry a blurry woman. Dean wants to go out well before the dreaded old age of sixty. “It ends bloody or sad, that’s just the life,” Dean tells him.

I wonder how Dean managed to crystal ball his way into their future with such cutting accuracy. Sam wonders if they go after the head evil honcho, if maybe they can carve out a happy ending for themselves.

At Jeb’s hotel, Dean flashes the latest tarot card to Sam. He speculates that the cards are a way to pinpoint the death transference spell to a particular victim.

Jay returns to his motel room, tailed by The Amazing Winchesters. They confront him with guns drawn and demand that he confess to the magical murders. Jay scoffs. There’s no such thing as magic, dummies! Hitting a wall with their shock confession tactic, they decide to tie Jay up to buy themselves some time. Alas, Jay the magician slips his bonds and escapes. Cops confront the Winchesters in the lobby.

Later, Charlie berates Jay for his reckless stunts in the green room. Jay’s spooked by the Winchesters’ allegations. He reveals that he had intended to kill himself with the table of death trick. Charlie bolsters Jay’s ego, telling him that he’s an incredible magician and that he’s got to TAKE CHANCES and DO THE TRICK. On stage, Jay struggles against his bonds, but once again avoids certain death. Unfortunately, there’s a shriek backstage. Charlie lies dead, punctured on the floor.

Jay springs the Winchesters from jail and meets them at a bar. They theorize that Vernon is running the mojo behind the scenes. While Vernon heads to the stage to meet with Jay, Sam and Dean investigate Vernon’s room.

Jay’s in full accusation mode with Vernon when a young...Charlie appears!

He shed his skin like a snek! Charlie reveals that he’s been alive for a long time. He found a spell for immortality in a spellbook, as one does. Charlie tries to convince them to join the immortal magicians club when the Winchesters burst in.

Charlie tosses a magical rope around Dean’s neck, leaving Sam to menace Charlie with his handgun. Quickly, Charlie gets the upper hand and straps Sam Fucking Winchester under the spikes o’ doom. It’s looking bad for our heroes, when Charlie suddenly gets invisibly stabbed.

Jay stands stoic, with a knife buried in his gut. He took Charlie down by picking the magic tarot deck from his pocket and planting a card on him. As Charlie dies, the Winchesters are released.

Back in the bar later, Jay sadly shuffles cards. He’s lost his magic-boosted skillz. Dean thanks him for killing Charlie. Urf. “Charlie was like my brother. Now he’s dead because I did the right thing,” Jay spits (thematically) before toddling off sadly to head back home.

The Winchesters avoid discussing their feelings. Sam takes a walk and finds Ruby outside. “I’m in,” he tells her. He doesn’t want to still be fighting when he’s an old man.

Abracaquotes:

What’s the price tag on immortality? 

You ain't been had ‘til you been had by the Chief

The whole world's about to be engulfed in hellfire, and you're in Magictown, USA

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#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #spn 4x12 #criss angel is a douchebag #supernatural season 4