#(never gotten weird before XD)

[all-that-is-youtiful-and-void]

the hokake walk up to Sasuke. "SASUKE. U HAVE NOT COMPLET3D YOUR MATH HOMEWORK. I AM DISAPPOINT." He roars. He dances. Batman appears. "I'm batman." He bodyslam old man. "Spicy. Guy on guy action.:

"What the hell am I seeing?"

[phoenixiancrystallist]

I might have a problem. This is all the photos in my PlayStation App album

The 2,494 selected photos are what I have not yet uploaded for the photo dumps. 92 of the unselected photos are Final Fantasy XV and FFXV Comrades. The rest are photo dumps I've already sorted through and uploaded.

I have a lot of work ahead of myself XD

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 8

Title: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You're just there to help JK with his final project, so why are you being doused in water, facepaint and smoke? Art. Art is why.

Warnings: T, language, fluff, angst, honestly this one's kinda wholesome and fun, some photogrpahy jargin in there, but nothing a quick google search can't fix if you really need to <3, it's mostly surface level jargin. Also the smoke machine works cuz JK has great ventilation due to the massive windows being open, so don't worry bout that XD, some light and fun name calling, some world building. Ask if you need clarification on anything. That's all I think!

Word Count: 11,684

Release Date: September 1, 2024. 4:30PM

A/N 1: Surprise! Happy JK Day.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

PJK [7:36pm]: Saturday afternoon. my place. 11am.  PJK [7:36pm]: bring an extra set of clothes, something warm. Sweats if you have them. PJK [7:37pm]: also, Im gunna need your shirt size

The first three weeks of November have flown by and dragged on at the same time.

The weather’s getting colder. You need a thick jacket if you want to be anywhere outside, and all leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving pines the only ones left with their winter coats on. Hot chocolate from greenhouse cafe has become part of your life’s blood so you don’t freeze, and gloves with pocket warmers inside them are once again a part of your everyday. 

But November skies have returned. And you frequently set up camp on the drying grass beside the greenhouse, dressing your canvas with oil paint to their likeness as it’s the only paint that doesn’t dry the second it’s out of the tube in the cold, static air.

Jungkook told you earlier in the week the shoot would most likely be this weekend, and that he just had a few final strings to pull together before being able to confirm. So with that in mind, you intentionally tried to finish all your work before this weekend, knowing the shoot will take a while to complete.

He mentioned it may leak over into Sunday depending on how much you get done on the first day, which is fine with you considering you usually spend Sunday evenings at his place anyway. You’d consider it an extended edition of your regularly scheduled broadcast.

And speaking of regularly scheduled, you haven’t missed a single movie night since Nel left. Granted, it’s only been three weeks, but even missing the two you did because of Nel had made an impact. 

You’d gotten so used to them, having that time to destress and unwind before the week starts. A nice little routine that helps reset you both mentally and physically.

Suddenly not having that was…a weird feeling you try not to remember. 

And you are more than happy to never miss another one ever again.

You aren’t sure what Jungkook tells Adaline he’s doing during movie night, but she’s never interrupted you, not even once. And it’s something you are increasingly grateful for, because she is one of the things you destress from as your unspoken rivalry always amps up the closer to exam season you get.

It’s Thursday evening, and you’re in your room finishing up a Microeconomics 3 assignment while piano music plays on a speaker in the corner. You use it to help you focus, and it’s working its magic as you’re finishing your work in record time. 

Music has always helped you work better, and you credit it largely with how you’ve been able to keep up with everything in your schooling.

Yuri’s in her room, doing homework as well you assume. Or maybe texting Tai—the dreamy, big dicked Ilcalos island Count—you swear she’s only put her phone down for sleep and showering, as she’s constantly checking to see if he’s messaged her. And you hope it turns out well for them, Yuri deserves someone who treats her well. Especially after the whole Jungkook debacle—which you’re not allowed to bring up—and then the poor rebound you aren’t allowed to talk about either. You’re just happy she’s finally found someone worth her time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot Jungkook a text back.

You [7:40pm]: okay! saturday at 11 sounds good. I’ll bring sweats and warm socks

You message him your shirt size too, curious as to what he’ll use it for, but you’re sure you’ll find out in due time. You always do.

Subject to many of his homework assignments, you’ve been posed and lit and adjusted every which way. 

Jungkook is incredibly professional when you’re with him as a model. Light touches to correct posing, always with a ‘may I’ before he does, and he fills the room with kind words, good vibes, and fun music so you never feel awkward. 

At first you were really iffy on the whole idea when he first asked in September, because it would be the prince of your nation photographing little ol’ you. You weren’t anything special—yet—and you’re still never one for being in the spotlight, or for being on camera. At all. But if it was just for homework, and you were helping out a friend…you figured why not? 

It helped that all of your worries immediately faded when you saw the results of that first shoot.

An email from a very non-princely email address found its way into your inbox. The subject was the date of the shoot, and the only message inside being:

 thanks. Hope you like them. 

Let’s do it again sometime.

-J

When you opened the attachments you made a quick dive to catch the phone that fell from your hands in shock. 

You looked…beautiful. Like you never had in pictures before. Not in school, or at graduation, not even in the ones you took of yourself. 

You didn’t know you were capable of looking like that. 

Like how he saw you. Captured you. 

And you’ll never admit you’ve held your chin a little higher with every shoot since.

They make you feel powerful, attractive. More confident, and sure of yourself, as if you were always meant to be in front of a camera. Like you’d been in front of one since before you could walk.

They do that for you.

He…does that for you—with his pictures, of course.

Jungkook is very talented. Very skilled with his camera, and you find yourself looking forward to the concepts he comes up with every time. Trusting him and whatever his vision is wholeheartedly. 

Though a small, immature piece of you is also pleased he still wants you to model, and not Adaline. That he finds you easier to work with over her.

Your competitive streak never fails to come out, even with the smallest, secretive things.

Take that Adaline.

You gladly help him out with his homework, and he does the same for you. 

If you ever need a male reference or a profile study. Anatomy practice, features practice, likeness practice. Anything and almost everything, all you have to do is ask, and he sits still or places whatever you need in front of you while you sketch.

Hands, however, have always been a personal favourite of yours.

They’re one of those things that can be drawn a hundred different ways and never look the same. Always a new position you can put them in. Consistently able to shake things up. And one set is never like the others—like eyes. There’s little differences in all of them and that’s where their magic lies.

You do these studies at the greenhouse, it has the best light to shadow ratio. When you ask him for one, he’ll switch to working with one hand, while the other does whatever you tell it. Normally either placed on your table or if there isn’t enough room, which nine times out of ten there isn’t because of all your supplies, you stick your foot on the lower metal frame of his table and he rests his arm, wrist or palm on your up bent knee. 

Due to this, you’ve unintentionally come to find out that his hands are very strong, very calloused, and very, very warm…

Also! Aside from hand studies, you love loose figure studies because they’re great warm up sketches. And what Jungkook doesn't know is that you have dozens of warm up sketches of him. Doesn’t know you sneak pictures here and there when you can, hiding them in a hidden album on your phone entitled ‘hmwk screenshots.’ And he definitely doesn’t know that when he’s sitting at the cafe, nose deep in assignments, you doodle his features or his outfit in real time.

A nose here, a jacket there. A muscular forearm covered in tattoos also tends to find its way onto your page every so often.

He’s got a good physique. And the ridges make for excellent anatomy practice. So does the intricate line work of tattoos, and fabric rippling. Especially in drastic lighting. Consistency is key in maintaining and improving your work and it’s not like any of these sketches will ever see the light of day anyways. 

They’re just, well…practice. 

A sigh escapes you, and you refocus on finishing your microecon work. You still have two more assignments to get done before Saturday at eleven.

“And why are you working with some random girl when I’m available, again?” Adaline asks. She’s currently sitting on Jungkook's couch in your spot. He’s setting up tomorrow's materials against the big white wall by the floor length windows that showcase his balcony.

It’s why he chose to live here instead of in the dorms or on campus. His place isn’t enormous, like most people would think, it has enough room for everything a regular student needs: bedroom, kitchen, workspace, living room, bathroom, even a guest room. But the one thing he keeps different is the big white wall where a dining room would normally be. 

Jungkook’s place has high ceilings, 10 feet tall, which is higher than the average but not excessive. And the wall that connects his kitchen to the balcony is a perfect mock studio. He can even keep all his equipment there; lights, gels, backgrounds, tubs full of props, camera cases, lenses, and more all stored in neat shelving against another wall. 

“Because students volunteered for extra credit, and she’s who was assigned to me,” a small lie, one he was sure that Adaline wouldn’t dig into too deeply. 

“Why didn’t you tell me I could volunteer?”

“Because you didn’t need the extra credit?”

She pouts, and goes back to her phone.

Adaline also doesn’t know it’s you he’s photographing and that is one hundred percent intentionally planned by him. 

He could sense something between you two after you made that one comment after fall break. He notices now how you stiffen slightly every time he mentions Adaline, and the one time he mentioned you in passing to test the waters, Adaline changed the conversion topic almost immediately. A look of annoyance, or maybe even insecurity in her eyes.

So he’s been lucky that Adaline has never wanted to see any of his schoolwork prior to or after the singular shoot he did with her. 

Lucky she hasn’t seen your face fill up his screen constantly. 

And extremely lucky that she doesn’t know about the hidden folder buried deep in his desktop labeled ‘eqpmt rcpts’ filled with dozens of candid shots of you.

To be fair, you don’t know about them either. They’re random, shots taken every now and then where he thought you looked happy, focused, or just existing. True candids of the most candid person he knew.

It started that day with his first assignment from Professor Hirmer. He’d taken those quick pictures of you painting, and then simply never stopped. 

He has pictures of you in the courtyard, walking and talking to Yuri, you smiling. He has some he took on his phone when you’re over for movie night, invested in the film or talking to him. And a bunch of you painting at the greenhouse. It’s hard to take secret candids when he’s right beside you, but he manages seeing as you haven't caught him yet.

He even has a few of you and Nel, love clearly written on your face in every single one of them.

Whenever he spots you before you spot him, and he has his camera on him, he takes a couple. 

They’ve amassed into a healthy sum, but he thinks of it as a harmless habit as no one will ever know. And it’s not like he’s following you around to take them or using them for anything nefarious. 

He just likes taking your picture. Capturing your spirit, your candor. 

Your realness. 

You are wholly yourself, always, no holding back, all of the time. 

And to him, it feels like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey!” you say as you let yourself into Jungkook’s apartment. You’d knocked but no one answered and it was currently 10:56am on Saturday, so you knew he was here. Plus, his door was unlocked.

“Jungkook?” you call. 

No answer.

You take your shoes off after closing the door and locking it. He should really keep his door locked. 

Very quickly become best friends with the couch, you toss your backpack of warm clothes on the floor while you wait for him to make an appearance. 

There’s shoot equipment everywhere; lights in the corner, some with soft boxes on them, gels laid out on the coffee table, and what you’ve come to learn is a lens case sits on the couch beside you in Jungkook's usual spot. 

Jungkook has also somehow managed to find some small trees in blue ceramic pots and what you’re pretty sure is a smoke machine. 

But the most peculiar thing is what looks to be a kiddie pool up against the wall with a folded tarp at its base. 

Well that's…interesting…

You hear a door open somewhere in the apartment and running water. 

“Jungkook? That you?”

“Hey! Yep. Just give me a sec, I’m almost done.”

The water sounds cease and Jungkook makes his grand entrance as he turns the corner holding a large watering can. Your eyebrow raises.

“For the trees?” you ask.

“What?” 

You point to the watering can currently making his veins pop. 

He laughs, “Oh! No. This is for later. You’ll see,” and walks to the other side of the room by the pool. 

“Aren’t we mysterious today,” you say, following him with your eyes. He’s in ripped black jeans that accentuate the muscle definition of his thighs, and a matching baggy shirt. When his back is turned you snap a quick picture. The fabric folds on his baggy shirts are some of your favourite mindless things to cool down sketch.

“Nah, just focused. We have a lot to get through today.”  He sets down the watering can and you can see the moment the switch flips from friend to photographer. “The guest room is ready for you. There’s a clothing rack inside with each look labeled. There’s also makeup and face paint, if you could bring out the make up after you're done changing, that would be great. We’re gonna start with ‘Bright and Bold’, okay?” 

You usually use the spare room as a change room when you have to switch clothes for a shoot. But they were always from your own closet. He’d tell you the concept he was going for and you’d bring a few options to choose from.

Makeup you were used to, though. Jungkook loves abusing your artistic abilities for his shoots in the way you decorate your face or body, saying they make his works a level up from the rest of his classmates. 

They also usually make for some of the coolest pictures you have of yourself.

This is the first time he’s ever bought clothing, though.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, this being his final assignment for an important class, and him being as serious as he is about his work and the final product. But you can't help it, you’re excited to see everything he’s chosen for the shoot. 

For you.

For the shoot.

“Yep, sounds good. Be out in a few,” you reply. He nods in acknowledgement before moving to set something up and you don’t stick around to find out, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door lined hall. 

The guest room is modest and clean. White sheets and gray comforter with, surprisingly, two throw pillows to spruce it up. The walls are white too, but you’re pretty sure that’s because Jungkook’s not allowed to paint the apartment per his landlord's wishes—a thought that still makes you laugh.

He could buy any place he wanted, but chose to rent. ‘To get the real university experience,’ he explained when you asked him the first time you went over.

Black furniture accents the room. A comfortable looking leather chair sits in the corner by a glass door that leads to the balcony. It has a small table beside it. There’s a dresser with a mirror in the other corner and of course, in the center of the room, is the bed. It’s a nice room. However, the newest edition is what’s keeping your eye.

Four shirts hang from the rack at the foot of the bed. The first is vibrant and colourful, the second a light neutral short sleeved V neck, third is strapless and skin coloured, and the last is made from thin black fabric you assume will be skin tight by the looks of it. 

As promised, they’re all labeled with a sticker. 

You throw your bag on the bed and grab the colourful one first. Its sticker says ‘bright and bold,’ and you put it on after removing the shirt you came in, then zip it up. The material feels heavy, durable and expensive. You check the tag on the inside seam and see it’s from Ilkaya, one of the biggest and most expensive fashion designers on this side of the realm. 

Your eyes bug out of your head, and you try not to breathe too hard for fear of ruining it. Your routine of thrifting all your clothes makes you pretty damn sure you can’t even imagine how much this cost. 

It feels good though, comfortable, not itchy. Really freaking expensive.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have to admit you look amazing. It fits perfectly in all the right places, compliments your skin tone, and even brings out your eyes. Begrudgingly, you admit to yourself that maybe there’s some sense in what the price tag could be. But it would still be a ridiculous sum for a jacket.

With one last look in the mirror, you grab the palettes, brushes and other tools off the dresser, and leave your designated dressing room for the day in favour of returning to the living room. 

Jungkook’s got music going from your shared playlist. Insisting on making one after your second shoot together, when he decided you both agreed to the arrangement becoming a regular thing. It’s a good mix of both of your musical tastes, even though you guys figured out quickly that you liked pretty similar stuff anyway. 

“What do you think? Does it work?” You ask as you turn the corner. 

Jungkook fiddles with this camera before looking and pausing for a moment to take you in. You hope you look okay, but the weird look he has on his face makes you backtrack a bit. 

“Is this not the one you wanted? It had the label on it. But I can go back and double che- ”

“You look amazing,” is all he says, and your worry slides off you instantly. He smiles wide, the one you’ve come to recognize as genuine. 

“Thanks. But the colour’s doing most of the work for me,” you say, smiling back shyly.

He has a white background set up, and two differently coloured gel’d lights sit on opposite one another, a third, smaller floor light faces the background. A backlight, he’d call it. 

Bright and Bold indeed, though there is the matter of-

“What do you want me to do for my make up?”

“Actually,” he sets down his camera gently on a table, “Is it okay if I do it? I want it to be a little more on the amateur side and I don’t think your years of refined talent would let you get the exact look I want.” 

That’s new. But you're here to stand and look however he wants you too, so you allow him with a nod. 

“Sure, where do you want me to sit?”

“Here’s fine,” he says as he pulls a stool that was off to one side close to one of the windows. “As long as you don’t mind holding the make up. I don’t have a table to set them down on.  Should’ve thought of that, sorry.” 

You can tell he’s mentally scolding himself for forgetting something.

“No no, it’s fine,” you say, taking your seat, “I don’t mind, really.” 

Placing the balls of your feet on the bar that holds the chair legs together, you make your lap even enough to set the palettes out, and use a hand to hold all the brushes. 

Jungkook laughs, noticing your feet as you sit, “Cute socks.”

They’re light blue with a fox face on them, and little ears stick up from the elastic around the ankle. 

“Thanks,” you laugh too, they’re your favourite pair. “I call them my fox socks. They’re lucky.”

“Let’s hope so. Wish me luck fox socks,” he calls to your toes, and you wiggle them in response.

He picks a brush and chooses a colour. “Close your eyes and let me know if I’m pressing too hard. If it isn’t obvious, I’ve never done this before.”

You close your eyes and whisper, “Will do.”

It's a uniquely intimate experience having your makeup done. Willingly letting someone get up close and personal with you, allowing them to see every potential scar, blemish and pore in the name of beauty and for the sake of creativity. 

In this case, it’s also a little questionable considering where you feel the brush putting down colour: cheeks, lids, temple, nose. However, you’re simply a pawn in a well thought out plan, so you sit and wait for him to finish.

“Annnd done,” he says, making a final swipe with the brush on your cheek. “You look great! I didn’t hurt you, right?” he asks, showing you the makeup in a palettes mirror. Your face looks like it’s been attacked by a rainbow in the best way. You smile, taking the mirror from him and looking at all the little details. 

For a first timer, Jungkook did a really good job. 

“Nope, I’m good. How do you want me?”

Jungkook leads you to the backdrop, placing you in front. 

“One second,” he says, grabbing a remote and clicking a button to lower the black out curtains on the windows, and then another that turns off the apartment lights. He also clicks on all the lights he’s set up and you’re quickly illuminated by a bright red and purple as well as the back light.

“I’m good to pose?” he asks. 

“Yep.” 

You love that he always asks first. It makes you feel safe and considered, consenting to every touch prior to its occurrence. 

Jungkook instructs the first pose to have your hands on the sides of your face, making slight adjustments so that you don’t cover any of the makeup. And for the first time, his touches leave little sparks where they land. 

You’re sure it’s just because of the lights or that the shirt is thick and makes you warm. 

Or maybe you’re just nervous and need to get the first photo jitters out of your system.

Soon enough, the camera’s pointing at you and you smile the brightest you can. He’s given you the prompt of ‘you’re so excited and happy you can’t hold it in,’ and you work with it the best you can, taking the first few with the pose he gave before being given full reign. 

It’s a decent way into the first shoot when Jungkook says, “Hmm…we’re not quite there yet, I need a bit more,” and follows up with, “How about ‘you’ve just been commissioned by the Modern Art Museum to have the leading showcase for next year’.” 

You smile the biggest you think you ever have at the thought. Because that’s the dream, that is the biggest goal you could achieve. An entire gallery of your work as the primary exhibition in the Western Shores Modern Art Museum? You couldn’t go any higher. It’s every artist's dream.

“There you go! That’s it!” The camera’s capturing quickly as you imagine what it would be like to have your own showcase at the WS-MAM. Incredible is the first word that comes to mind, your work in the biggest museum on the continent? You can’t even imagine, but you want to. 

One day, you promise yourself. You’ll do it one day.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, breaking your daydream, “Let me switch out the gels for new colours and go again. These are great so far though, you're doing amazing.” 

You hold your hand out for a high five and he smacks it. “Go team!” you say, and he laughs.

An hour and a half, a makeup fix and three lighting changes later, the first shoot finishes. You collapse on the couch and rub the muscles on your thighs. 

Jungkook plops down beside you, nose deep in the pictures he’s just taken, double checking everythings good.

“This is a fantastic start, I hope we can keep it up all day and finish before tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you say, and you mean it. Shoots with him are always fun, but inevitably tiring. “I’m gonna to grab a water, want one?” 

“Yes please,” he replies without looking up.

In the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the two bottles and notice a box, stamped with a coffee mug that has a greenhouse inside of it, on top. The greenhouse cafe’s logo. 

“Can I ask what’s inside the cafe box?” you ask as you sit back on the couch and pass him a bottle.

“Ah, caught red handed,” he says, setting his camera on the table and taking a swig. “I may have asked Vivan earlier this week to make sure there was an overstock of tarts so I could grab them for you as a thank you for today.”

...Oh

That’s so sweet. He’s never gotten you a thank you gift before, especially not in the form of the most delicious pastry to ever exist. Maybe you should get him something for all the times he’s helped you with homework? A solstice gift maybe?

There’s heat forming in your chest and you really hope it’s not the beginning stages of heartburn. Maybe Jungkook has antacids. 

“You didn’t have to do that, I’m happy to help.”

“So you don’t want them then?” his shit eating grin making a glorious comeback because he knows what your answer’s going to be.

“No! I want them. I most definitely want them.”

He chuckles and puts his water down.

“Okay Donatello, glad you accept. Let's move on to the next set up. There’s makeup remover and cotton pads in the room, and some moisturizer too if you need it.”

The next shoot is called ‘Regality,’ and it has you in the strapless shirt. You find out it’s quite a low cut when you put it on. There’s enough to cover you, but there’s definitely a lot of your chest showing. However, under the shirt on the hanger is a scarf to cover yourself with, which you think is very considerate.

“Makeup?” you ask as you come out again, scarf covering you.

“Neutral, but strong. Kind of like how my mother does,” the background is still white, but you have a hunch that it will remain white in this picture, unlike the last one. “This one is going to be black and white, so try to emphasize your natural beauty.”

You ignore that he essentially just said you're beautiful, surely he’s just being kind and professional. Making sure his model feels good about herself. 

Right?

Right.

You put on a coat of mascara and go light on the shadow so it won't be too dramatic on film. You also use a shade of lipstick that adds just a tint to your lips and a blush that makes your eyes pop.

Jungkook has you sit on the stool from earlier and faces your body three quarters of the way towards the camera, but keeps your head turned in profile. 

“Oh! Almost forgot, one second,” Jungkook jogs to his room, coming back with a palm sized velvet box. “I had my mother send these over for this shoot. She has better taste than me, so I let her pick them out.”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when he opens the box. 

Inside are two dangling diamond earrings, and quite possibly the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

And now you’re terrified. 

“Jungkook, I can't wear those. They look like they’re worth more than my house, my car and my tuition combined.”

He takes one out and places it in your hand for you to put in, it’s the length of your index finger. And all you can think about is the potential houses you’re holding as you look at it. 

It’s a semi-rectangular earring, encrusted with four columns of diamonds that cascade down, each column longer than the previous. Like a sparkling waterfall you can attach to your ear.

“Don’t worry about it, mum said she never wears them anyway because they’re part of a set that the necklace was lost to years ago. Please,” his face is nothing but reassurance and small smiles, “You’re giving them a chance to live again.”

You couldn't say no to those eyes even if you wanted to.

So you reply, almost breathless and still against your better judgment, “Okay.”

Placing them in one after the other, they have a significant, understandable weight to them. You take a couple deep breaths so you don't freak out, and then you return to your previously designated pose, profile set, body facing the camera.

“Can I adjust?” Jungkook asks, after taking a step back and getting a wider view. 

You nod gently, still terrified of the earrings.

He makes sure the earring is visible and untangled first, before a finger gently comes beneath your chin, and lifts it a bit higher. 

The feeling they leave behind is all you can think about as you stare at your place on the wall, Jungkook snapping away. Not even the soft light illuminating your profile is enough to make you blink.

This shoot goes by quickly, and you’re relieved to get the earrings back safely inside their box.

“It’s like 2:45, wanna break for a late lunch?” Jungkook asks. 

“Please, I’m starved,” you say, returning from the guest room after tossing on the sweater you brought. “What's on the menu?”

“Well, we have two options,” he says, looking very faux serious, “1. We order out from wherever you want and awkwardly wait for it to arrive because the next shoot is not one we can’t prep for, then eat, then shoot.  Or 2. I make use of the ingredients I bought to make Bulgogi Kimchi Fried Rice and you get lunch and a show.”

You're shocked. 

Jungkook…cooks? Oh this you absolutely must see.

“Hmm….” you say, pretending to really mull it over in the same ‘serious’ tone, “I’m thinking I’ll have to go with option two, Chef. But I’ll lend a hand where I can, no use in standing around doing nothing.”

“Every chef needs a sous.”

With both of you on task, lunch is getting made quickly. Jungkook has all the ingredients to make ‘my buddy’s famous family recipe,’ a man who you assume is a chef back at the palace. The island countertop is currently covered in them; onion, kimchi, marinated bulgogi, gochujang, cooked rice, eggs and more. 

You’re surprised at how skilled Jungkook is in the kitchen. He’s cutting the ingredients like he’s been doing it his whole life and working the pan over the stove like the proper technique has been drilled into him since birth. 

Thirty minutes pass, and after both of you shed a tear at the cut onions and evenly split the remaining tasks, you’re sitting on the couch about to take your first bite. It smells delicious. Your mouth is watering and you can’t wait to dig in, stomach painfully empty by this point.

Finally taking that first bite, you nearly die of euphoria.

“Ouhmahgaud,” you say, mouth half full. Jungkooks on the other side of the couch, trying not to cough out his own food from laughing at your reaction. His eyes are nearly shut with how wide he’s smiling.

“Good?” he asks after swallowing his food first, like a civilized person.

You’re vigorously nodding as you swallow your own helping in hopes you’re understood.

“You’re giving me this recipe. I need it. I don’t think I will survive if this is the only time I ever get to eat it.” Your bowl is almost half gone already. Thank god there’s leftovers, you will be having more.

Plus, you want to make it for your mom when you go home, she’ll love it. 

“I’ll text it to you later, don’t worry.”

You’re very sure the look on your face conveys the gratitude you feel and the rest of the meal passes in a very comfortable and satisfied silence. 

Twenty-ish minutes later, after letting your seconds settle for a couple minutes, Jungkook gets back to business. 

“Next look is the most adventurous, it uses the facepaint. Are you okay with contacts?”

“I think so, never tried them before though. Just give me a few before we start so I don’t explode when I stand up.”

“All good,” he says, before quirking a lip and adding, “I really don’t feel like explaining why there’s kimchi and bits of you all over my walls to either of our parents, so take all the time you need.”

You laugh, firstly at the visual, then at the idea of Jungkook meeting your mother. That would be something you needed on record, paper and film.

After a minute, you get up, the guest room making your acquaintance once more. 

“This one is called Enigmatic,” Jungkook calls.

“Got it!”

You take longer than normal to change, maybe eating before putting on the skin tight shirt wasn’t a great idea. But at least it was stretchy. 

It has long sleeves, a high neck, and is a very dark midnight black. There’s a matching black scarf for this one too, and a safety pin attached to the corner.

“Okay, what's the plan for this one? I hear facepaint is involved,” you say, back for round three, scarf in hand.

The background of the set is black now, a close match to your shirt. Jungkook is by the smoke machine, currently set up on the stool and plugged into a nearby outlet. 

You hold up the scarf, questioningly.

“That’s to go over your head after the paint, but let’s see if you can do contacts first, they’re in the washroom. Need help?”

“No, I'm good.”

You don’t succeed at first, but after a couple attempts you look in the mirror and see purple eyes staring back at you. You love them.

“I look like a badass,” you say, returning. The smoke machine’s been turned on and it’s created a completely different atmosphere. At your reemergence, Jungkook shuts it off and comes close to give you a look. You freeze a little at the eye contact, his browns meeting your currently violets for a prolonged moment.

“They look better than I’d hoped, this is going to be great.” 

He reaches under the gels on the table for a piece of paper. It’s a makeup model face with the look he wants drawn on. “Are you able to do something like this?”

The diagram shows the cheeks, bottom half of the nose and down all the way to the neck as black, and the eyes and up as white, bleeding down into the black like smoke. You’re going to need eyeshadow for that part. If you did that with the face paint it would just become a gray mess.

“Yep, but it’s going to take some time to get it right.”

“That’s okay, I’ll use it to get the smoke machine properly set up.”

You use one of the palette mirrors and start with the white, covering the top of your face and making a good base layer for the eyeshadow. Then fill the bottom of your face and neck with the black. Carefully, so as to not make gray, you use a large brush to cover both sides with their respective eyeshadow shades, before blending them together like the reference. Your skin starts to feel like it’s on fire by the time you're satisfied and you check your phone for the time when you finally finish. 

4:37pm. 

Not bad. You put the scarf over your head and cover your ears with it, using the safety pin to hold it in place. 

“Done.”

Jungkook takes one look at you and lights up. 

“Have I ever mentioned how talented you are, and that you make my schoolwork so much more fun? Because I feel like I should again even if I already have.” Your cheeks heat, glad he’s excited you’re able to help. “How did you manage to make it look even better?”

“I do vaguely remember mentioning something about a deal with a semi-suspicious genie,” you joke. And both of you break out in giggle fits after a second, recalling the conversation from forever ago. 

Running through the same steps of lighting, posing, and adjustments, Jungkook then flips on the smoke machine and lets it fill the room heavily before starting to take pictures. 

You’re sitting on a small box this time, so that you’re slightly lower than the camera. Jungkook tells you to keep your hands at your sides and look up, just above the rim of the camera lens. It creates a very interesting look, and you're excited to see the results. 

He has you do a couple more poses before allowing you to do your own thing once more, trying to think of what would look mysterious and enigmatic.

You try to let the music inspire you. This is a look you’ve never done before, so you’re finding it a bit difficult to get into it despite Jungkook's helpful prompts and suggestions. But you flow a bit better with it as time goes on and you become more comfortable.

An idea pops up out of nowhere and you have him do a close up from the middle of your chin to the middle of your forehead. You stare straight into the lens to really showcase the purple contacts and makeup.

“This’s the one for sure,” he says, taking a few more. “Great idea, why didn’t I think of a close up in the first place?” You know he's talking to himself at this point. 

It’s close to 6:15pm when Jungkook decides he has enough pictures for this look. You don’t mind the longer shoot seeing as you set aside the day for this, and you can’t wait to see how these ones turn out in particular.  

You’re halfway through getting the face paint off, a mountain of gray stained cotton pads beside you, when Jungkook turns the music down.

“Let’s do a light, early dinner and then shoot the last one?” he asks. “I kept this one at the end because it’s going to create the most mess and it’ll be nice to have dinner out of the way for when I have to clean up.”

“More mess than this?” you point to the cotton pad mountain.

“Much more.”

“Light, early dinner it is,” you confirm, not wanting to have to wait till late to eat. “But can we order out so I have time to get the rest of this off?”

“Sure, what’ll it be?”

Clean faced, moisturized and ramyeon filled, you and Jungkook are preparing for the last shoot. Or well, lightly arguing.

“Water?”

“Mhm.”

“On me?”

“Yep.”

“From that thing,” you point to the contraption he calls a c-stand that will be holding the very full, very large watering can over your head for an extended amount of time, “And into there?” you point again to the kitty pool on top of the tarp that’s underneath the watering can c-stand. 

“That is the plan,” he looks amused at your slight distress.

“Are you nuts? What if it falls on me? How do I know it won’t unhinge and I’ll have a nicely cracked open skull to explain to my mother on Solstice break?”

“It won’t fall and you know it won't because you trust me and trust I wouldn’t put you in unnecessary danger. But if it does, tell your mom I say hi and sorry.”

You scoff at him, unbelievable. “So you admit there’s a bit of danger!”

Jungkook sighs, and looks to the ceiling. “Yes, YN. There is a touch of danger. But that’s only if, somehow, the c-stand I have triple safety checked, duct taped twice, and quadruple secured with four fifteen pound sandbags, decides that you deserve a watering can to the head.”

You side eye his tone. This wasn’t an unrealistic worry. But you do trust him. And trust he would never intentionally put you in any danger.

The trees are set up near the backdrop that looks like a row of brick houses. The shot is supposed to be ‘The Calm after Before the Storm,’ where you look relieved and happy in an ‘outside’ setting while ‘rain’ falls over you, also in black and white.

“Fine, but if I hear one peep from that thing,” c-stand staring down the tip of your finger once more, “I’m tuck and rolling and taking you out while I do it.”

“Very fair!” he says relieved, and goes to set up the stand with the watering can. 

You’d changed into the neutral V neck after dinner, and he’s asked for no makeup. So all you have to do now is stand and pose while trying not to die from foreign objects falling from the sky while you get wet.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

It is incredibly difficult, and you’re glad he made this one last because you’re at best; slightly miserable. Only the promise of a hot shower, hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows and your pick of whatever you watch afterward is keeping you going.

You started this one just shy of 8pm after waiting 45 minutes for the food. And it’s nearing 9:30 now. Jungkook has had to refill the watering can four times, dump the kiddie pool twice,  and you swear if you don’t finish within the next twenty minutes, you’re going to collapse from shivering.

To be fair, he does fill the watering can with warm water, but it only stays warm for so long before freezing water is pouring on you for the millionth time tonight. 

“I have one last idea, and by the way, I’m never doing this concept again so don’t worry about that, but also… don’t shut down the idea immediately okay?” Jungkook says. 

The watering can is almost empty again and you’re relieved that your time is almost up. That in itself should make for a good picture. He snaps it.

But his tone makes you a little wary, “Okay… what is it?”

“Pretend I’m Nel and you’re seeing me for the first time in six months, like you do at the end of April.”

Well, you didn’t have that down on your photo shoot prompt bingo card. 

Are you okay with the idea? You aren’t sure, but aren’t not sure either.

“I mean, I’ll try. Maybe you could give vocal cues to try and help? But don’t make it weird.”

“I won’t, promise,” Jungkook pauses for a second before adding, “Does he call you baby?”

You nod, and you distantly hear and ‘okay’ as you slowly allow yourself to get into that headspace.

You start, and the camera starts going.

You’re in the airport, waiting for Nel, ‘smoosh’ paper in hand. The gate opens, and through all the other passengers you see him, see that he’s in one piece, see that he’s safe. 

Your face illuminates with relief at that so much so that you don’t even notice the water that starts running down your face. 

You hear a ‘hi baby’ and in your head, it’s coming from Nel’s mouth as he nears you. You smile impossibly wider at the thought of seeing him, feeling him. Having him here with you. 

You look happy to see me, ‘Nel’ says.

“I am,” you reply. 

There’s repetitive clicking in the distance, but you ignore it. It’s probably just a flight attendant's heels on the floor.

“I missed you.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Nel speaks again.

I missed you too, baby.

You’re shivering hard now, lost in thought, unaware of reality. 

YN, Nel calls.

“Yes, love?”

“YN.”

“Babe, what is it?”

“YN, hey,” you're being shaken gently.

“Hmm? What?” you slowly arrive back to the present. Strong hands grip your shoulders. They feel nice. Solid. Deliciously warm. 

A very concerned looking Jungkook comes into focus, camera dangling around his neck and reaching for you.

Oh.

He’s the one holding your shoulders, trying to get you to come back to reality.

“There she is, welcome back,” he lets go and grabs a blanket from somewhere and wraps it around you. “We got the shot, go take a shower and warm up okay?”

“Okay,” you say, still a little dazed, but present enough to function.

You step out of the pool, holding on to the hand Jungkook offers to balance—Warm. Solid. Strong—and head straight for the bathroom, making a pit stop in the guest room to grab your bag with fresh clothes. 

The hot water cements your place back in reality, letting it warm you up and cleanse you of the day. 

You have no idea what just happened with that whole Nel thing, but it was a new feeling and a new headspace and you really aren’t in the mood to analyze or acknowledge, so it’s shoved onto a top shelf in the back of your mind for a later date.  

Once you're able to return to the directory of your mind, you don’t know how long you’ve been in the shower. But you know you’re clean, no longer cold, and in the mood for hot chocolate, so you step out and dry yourself with the towels Jungkook laid out for you on the toilet seat.

They’re soft. So soft in fact you consider only for a second shoving one in your now less full bag to take home with you. However, you do rather enjoy your friendship with the prince, so you think better of it upon second thought. 

Dressing in your sweats, you exit, tossing the towels in the hamper and your bag of the clothes you arrived in back into the spare room.

“Better?” Jungkook asks as you sit down in your spot on the couch for the last time tonight, wrapping up in the blanket he left for you. He’s in the kitchen but heard you coming.

“Much, thanks,” you sniff, “Is that hot chocolate I smell?”

Jungkook returns from the kitchen, two mugs in hand. “With extra whip cream and marshmallows, as ordered.”

You carefully take it from him, giving your thanks and happily slurping away the second it’s in your grasp. 

“Alright Caravaggio, what are we watching?” he asks, sitting down on his side, sipping away on his own. 

Sometime between you leaving for the shower and coming back out Jungkook changed into his own comfy attire, and tidied up the studio space as the pool and tarp are nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve thought really hard about this, all of however long I was in the shower,” Jungkook mutters something about 35 minutes; you ignore him, “And have settled on ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

He whines just a little when he says, “But it’s November.”

“So?”

“So, Solstice isn’t until the third week of December,” he’s saying this like his point is the most obvious thing in the world. 

It’s not.

“Your point?”

“That it’s November, and you want to watch a Solstice movie.”

You’re mockingly outraged.

“Who made you town grinch? I didn’t realize we had a holiday hater in our midst.” 

You loved the holidays, all the big ones, and the small ones, but Solstice was special. 

“I’m not a grinch, I’m just not there yet, mentally.”

“Then get ready to dive in head first, because you said I could pick the movie for risking my life for you and I pick ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue further, but he does roll his eyes as he puts on your movie with a small smile hidden behind his drink.

It’s sometime during the first act, you’re lying back against your corner of the couch, feet up and under the blanket when you ask, “What are your solstice break plans?” 

Jungkook takes a moment to part from the TV, very invested for someone who was so against it half an hour ago. “I have a lot of ‘princely duties’ to do for Solstice, like standing and looking thoughtful while my dad gives his annual Solstice speech,” you snort. “Then there’s the palace dinner, the parade through the capital, and the live televised event,” he says in a tv announcer's voice, “Where my family and I light the Solstice Star. And then there’s the new year and that in itself has another long list of things I have to do. Besides things like that though? Not much, and then it’s back here.”

Right.

You often forget who he is. 

That behind those kind eyes, and small smiles, behind the greenhouse study dates, and movie nights, and photoshoots, Jungkook has an enormous responsibility constantly looming over his head, counting down the days until he finishes his schooling. One that’s just waiting to drop onto his shoulders forever. 

You often forget that Jungkook is the Prince, first in line to the biggest throne in the realm. That you spend your time with not only Jeon Jungkook, friend and photography student, but also, His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook, Heir Apparent and Future King of The Western Shores.

He just makes it so damn easy to forget.

You only asked because you thought maybe he had plans with friends or family, completely forgetting about all of the things the royal family does during the holiday season to celebrate with the nation, their people, and now you feel like an ass for even bringing it up.

But there’s something in his answer, or lack thereof, that snags your attention. 

“What about celebrating with your family and friends in private?”

“No time,” Jungkook’s stare goes distant as he brings his knees up and puts his arms around them, resting his chin. “Friends are always busy with palace preparations and dad’s not really the sentimental type. We celebrated when I was younger; big family breakfast, presents, tree decorating, whole thing. But after I turned about 13 or so, it started dwindling pretty quickly. Now it’s just me and my mom exchanging a gift with each other at midnight under the palace tree.” 

You don’t think you’ve ever heard something so heartbreaking yet beautiful in your life. 

“Your mum sounds wonderful, I’m really happy you two get that time together.” 

He looks at you, and you can tell by the look in his eyes he loves that time with her more than anything else. 

Solstice is supposed to be the time you spend with your family, blood or chosen. The time where you all gather to cook and bake, and exchange thoughtful gifts with the ones you love. The time where you truly cherish one another and count yourself lucky for all that you have. 

Solstice is your favourite time of the year.

To not spend it like that just seems…wrong. Horribly, painfully, awfully wrong.

“What about you?” he asks.

You don’t want to make him feel bad, so you tone down your answer, taking away the meat and giving the bones.

“My mum and I cut down our own tree and decorate it with the ornaments we’ve collected over the years,” you have them from every place you’ve ever visited, and your mum kept all the ones you ever made as a kid. You even get a new one every solstice to take a picture for and label with the year.  

“Then we bake solstice cookies until our hands cramp and survive off only them until solstice dinner; a turkey, honey glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with gravy, essentially if it waters your mouth, it’s there,” he chuckles at that. “We do gifts for each other too, opening them on solstice morning before making hot drinks and reading in the breakfast nook until the sun sets or till we get hungry, whichever comes first.”

Jungkook's eyes glow, radiating warmth, a lazy smile on his face as he listens to you. 

“That sounds really nice, YN.”

“It is,” you reply, looking him in those radiant eyes as you do. He looks… happy. Happy for you, that you get to have something like this that’s so special. It breaks your heart a little…maybe you can help.

“You wanna make some solstice cookies with me before break?”

His look of happy shifts to one of slight panic.

“What?” you question, and comically ask, “Have you never made solstice cookies before?”

He hesitates before answering a very quiet, “Uh…N-no.”

Your shock must be incredibly evident in the way he almost flinches at your reaction.

So you try your best to keep your voice level when you ask, “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. I’ve never made solstice cookies.”

That’s it. You can’t hold back any more, you’ve never heard anything so blasphemous in all your life.

“You’ve never what?  How is that even possible?”

He shrinks into himself a little more.

“The palace pastry chef always makes them because that’s kind of his job,” you stare at him in disbelief. “Is this really that big a deal?”

You swear there’s cog’s and smoke flying out of your ears. Solstice cookies are a religion in your household. You know dozens of recipes by heart, always finding a new one each year to try and up your game. You cannot imagine a solstice without making them. Wait no, actually you can, but it would be because you’re dead.

You held back in your answer earlier, for his sake, but you and your mom’s hands cramp up because you make enough cookies to give a box to everyone in the neighborhood. It’s one of your favourite traditions, and your neighbours even look forward to it every year, going so far as sending you both recipes to try out.

“Big dea—you’ve never fucking mad—not even when you were little? No one brought you to the kitchen and let you help? Aren't all your friends back home the pastry chefs' kids or something?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but your tone is a little more passionate than you were intending. 

But Jungkook knows you, knows you occasionally get that passionate about things, and takes your outburst in stride. 

“Yeah, one of them is, but we don't sit around the oven and make cookies all break long. And his dad is always too busy to teach us even if we wanted to.”

You decide something. Right then and there.

“This year you are.”

“What?”

“Mark your last Saturday off because I'm going to show up here, ingredients-a-plenty and teach you how to make solstice cookies. I have a million recipes up here,” you tap your head with a finger, “But I'll choose the easiest ones. And I’ll come over early so we can spend the day making all of them. I can’t in good conscience leave for the break knowing you’ve never made them.”

He sighs. “Do I have any say in the matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook stares at you and you can’t figure out what he’s thinking. You’re worried he’s going to say no anyway. To say you’re crazy and that they’re just cookies and that he has more important things he has to do on his Saturday before leaving for home.

But he doesn’t. And you should’ve known he wouldn’t, not after all the time you’ve spent together. 

You know better. Know him better.

“Alright Picasso. Sounds like a plan. I’m looking forward to it,” he decides, and goes back to watching the movie. 

It’s the first time he’s ever repeated a nickname.

“Wait! The wind guy wants to replace who?!” Jungkook shouts. 

You laugh at his confusion, and rewind the movie.

Jungkook wakes up sore.

His back is killing him, which makes sense since he’s half lying on the couch, half on the ground. 

The TV’s silently playing some slideshow of movie recommendations based on recent watches. 

He checks his phone, reaching for it on the coffee tale. 

14% battery. 

4:07am. 

Shit, he fell asleep. 

After the solstice movie he wanted to watch its predecessor. You had no qualms and so on it went, but he doesn’t remember much after the brothers started fighting.

Hearing soft, even breathing next to him he turns to see you, hunched over in your spot asleep, no doubt in the process of ruining your own back.

He should go to bed.

You should go to bed. 

But you’ve never stayed the night.

What should he do? Should he wake you? 

But you look so peaceful. And it’s nearing exams. You barely sleep when it’s exams season. 

Instead, Jungkook goes to check the guest room, but it’s a mess with yesterday's comings and goings. Make-up and clothes and hangers strewn everywhere.

Quietly, making a decision he hopes you won’t kill him for in the morning, he pads back to your sleeping form. 

It’s for your back, he tells himself. No other reason.

Deja vu sets in as he scoops you up from the couch, blanket and all. Just like last time, you gain enough consciousness to know to wrap your arms around his neck, but not enough to wake up. Your head rests on his shoulder and he selfishly savours the feeling as he walks down the short hallway to his room.  

Jungkook sets you down gently on one side of the bed, and your arms release, slumber undisturbed as he tucks you in.

He goes back to the living room to retrieve your phones. Yours is still at 56%, and he places it on the table beside you when he returns.

Climbing into his side of the bed, he’s careful not to touch you.

Though he wants to. 

Desperately. 

His sleep deprived brain is too slow to block out the thoughts that start to race. Thoughts of how he wants to turn around and pull you into his chest, slide an arm around your waist, and kiss you goodnight. How he wants to wake up in the same position, you still in his arms. 

But he’s also awake enough to know that will never happen. That you’re with Nel, and happy with him. That he’s drawn that nice, big line.

He’s awake enough to know you being in his bed is a fluke, unintentional.

A one time thing.

Plugging his phone into its charger, he sets it down on his own bedside table and pulls the covers up, falling back asleep.

His back facing you. 

An exhale wakes you.

Warm and cozy, you take a deep breath and roll to your left side, stretching on the way over. The scents of clean linen and something familiar find you. It’s comforting, that smell, but you can’t place it.

Another exhale, but this time you feel it as well as hear it.

You open your eyes to see a sleeping Jungkook face not a foot from your own and you jolt in shock, falling off the bed in the process. 

You look up from your new seat on the floor, ignoring the pain in your side from landing, and peer over the covers to check on Jungkook, who, miraculously, hasn’t woken up from your tumble. 

Relieved, your mind focuses on more pressing questions like ‘how did you get here?’ And ‘why were you in his bed?’ 

The last thing you remember was being halfway through the prequel to A Miser Brothers Solstice on the couch, watching Jungkook more than the movie because of how invested he’d become in the story. 

But you aren’t on the couch now. You were in his bed. 

The bed of the Prince of the Western Shores. 

The Prince who has a girlfriend, and you, who has a very long term, very serious boyfriend.

You hear a vibration, and following the sound, you find your phone on the bedside table. 

You quickly grab it quickly and go to the living room as quietly as you can manage. 

There’s a large number of unread texts. 

SlurryYuri [11:08pm]: hey, just checking in. You didn’t get home when you said you’d try for SlurryYuri [11:31pm]: Helloooooooo? YN? You there? SlurryYuri [12:14am]: it’s getting late YN, when are you coming home? Are you on your way?

Missed Calls: (3)

SlurryYuri [2:43am]: it’s been hours, so you better be dead or have crashed in the school somewhere. Either way I’m kicking your ass when you get home

Missed Calls: (2)

(Recent)

SlurryYuri [9:36am]: you’re still not home?? YN seriously, where are you SlurryYuri [10:23am]: If you don’t message me back in an hour I’m calling the police and filing a missing persons

Shit. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You crashed hard, the shoot must have taken more out of you than you thought, so you never texted Yuri you were going to crash in a sleep pod at school like you’d planned too. 

You make quick work of messaging her back, glad she unintentionally gave you just the excuse you needed. 

YN [10:25am]: ohmygod I’m soooooo sorry, it was the school one. I fell asleep in the school. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be home soon, promise. I’m just going to grab breakfast first. Again im sorry

SlurryYuri [10:27am]: thank the gods youre okay!! Don’t ever do that to me again YN! I don’t wanna be the one who has to break news to your mom!! She’s too nice.  SlurryYuri [10:27am]: and take your time getting back if your rushing for me, I’m not at the dorm SlurryYuri [10:27am]: Tai showed up yesterday out of the blue and took me dancing. We’re out getting brunch right now, and he has plans for the rest of the day SlurryYuri [10:28am]: Im just glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

YN [10:29am]: me too, and okay I will. Thanks for checking up on me and making sure im safe, youre my favourite

SlurryYuri [10:30am]: damn right I am, see you tn <3

YN [10:30am]: see you <3

You exhale deeply, that was fucking close. 

Your stomach rumbles and it reminds you that you actually need to get breakfast. 

What could you have? You could order in again, but that means a wait time and you are hungry now. You could raid Jungkook's pantry, or see if he has any fruit, but then you think that’s a gross invasion of privacy when it’s not movie night and you haven’t asked if it’s okay. 

Wait.

The egg tarts!

You dash to the fridge, the marvellous sight of a greenhouse inside a coffee mug comes into view. Stuffing one down before you even get the box from the fridge, you exit the kitchen, sit down on the couch, setting the box on the coffee table. Once opened in front of you, you realize there is a healthy amount of tarts inside. 

How many did Jungkook ask for?

Speaking of, a bed-headed, yawning Jungkook makes his morning debut, still in last night's clothes.

“Hey,” he says groggily, walking over and stealing a tart.

“Hey!” you say back, not nearly as friendly. 

“Overnight tax, Picasso. Room isn’t free.” He chuckles at your faux outrage, popping half the tart in his mouth as he walks to the kitchen and grabs something from the fridge. Returning, you see it’s a morning protein shake. 

Gross. 

“So is that name the one you’re sticking to now?” you ask, picking up another tart. At this rate they won’t last until lunch.

“Yeah, that okay with you? It’s your name in my phone after all.”

“It is?” You didn’t know that.

“Yeah, has been since the start.” 

You’re quickly learning that sleepy morning Jungkook is very different from morning post work-out Jungkook, friend Jungkook and photographer Jungkook. His voice is deeper, he’s a lot more relaxed, and maybe even harmlessly borderline flirty, like he’s not all there yet. Softer. 

“Picasso’s just fine. A compliment really.”

“Oh? And what am I in your’s then? Hopefully something just as nice?”

You tell him like it is.

“PJK.”

“PJK?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yeah? It’s obscure enough to not be recognizable if someone were to see it, but enough for me to know who it is.”

“Nah, you need something better, PJK is boring.”

“It’s your initials.”

“And boring,” he’s really not letting up on this. 

“Well...what would you save yourself as?”

He mulls it over for a minute before deflating. “Okay, fair point, but I seriously want a new one. Something that can rival Picasso.”

“Do you have any nicknames? Something not completely obvious?”

For a morning person, Jungkook sure is taking his time. Maybe he was only a morning person before 8am, and then if he got up anytime after that he became a normal person who despised mornings like everyone else.

“Uhh…Vivian calls me JK, but that’s essentially the same thing as PJK. My buddies back home sometimes call me Kook, but I don’t think that works either. My mum has one for me that I will not disclose to anyone so long as I am breathing. So I guess not.”

A lightbulb dings over your head. “What about your security? Don’t they have special code names for you when they detail you? Like bear or eagle?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as badass as either of those.”

“Fess up,” you say. Now you have to know.

“Hare.”

“Hare?” Now it’s your turn to be incredulous. “Like a rabbit?”

“Yep.”

An idea pops into your head and an evil grin spreads across your face, one you know is already setting worry into Jungkook’s still awakening brain as you change his name.

“I don’t like that look,” he confirms. “What’d you change it to?”

You flip your phone around and hold it up to him.

“Bunny?” he says incredulously once again.

“Yes.”

“I give you Picasso, one of the greatest painters of all time, and you think giving me bunny is anywhere near on par with that?”

Teasing him is far too fun, especially when he makes it this easy for you.

“Oh absolutely. In fact, I think it’s the best name I could possibly set it as.”

Jungkook disagrees, vehemently. “No, change it back. PJK is fine.”

“Too late. You dug your grave, now lie in it.”

Jungkook brings a hand to his face, pinching the crease between his brows and takes a very long, deep breath, exhaling just as dramatically. 

You take that as your victory. But you’re sorely mistaken.

He launches at you, reaching for your phone and you scream, reaching your arm to keep it away from him. You have a fox socked foot on his chest to try and keep him back. His right arm is holding him up near your hip on the couches edge and he’s reaching with his left as far as he can without breaking his sternum on your heel. 

“Give it!”

“Never!”

You try to bring up your other foot to push him away, but Jungkook is strong, and forces both it and the one on his chest down with the arm that was supporting him, temporarily keeping himself up with his left hand on the back of the couch. 

With your legs out of the way he can almost reach his phone. But in his distracted state, misses the couch when he goes to put his supporting arm down again, and flips onto the ground, taking you with him. You scream, but his arms wrap around you as he makes sure to take the brunt of the impact, landing on his back, you safely secured to his chest. 

There’s a moment of pure stunned silence, you resting your forhead on his chest while you process, him not letting go of your waist as he gets a breath into his winded self, before you’re both laughing as you take in what happened.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you?”

He takes a second to respond. “I’m great.” 

You push to sit up, and he releases you from his hold, but that was a mistake. Because now you’re sitting on his lap. 

It takes an entire three seconds of you staring at him and him staring right back before you jump and scramble off him as fast as you can. 

“Sorry.” you say in unison, you standing and him from the ground. It’s a painfully awkward 8 seconds before you break, cackling at the whole situation, and he joins in with you again. 

Jungkook brushes off his pants as he gets up too. “Got any plans before tonight,” he asks, business as usual.

“Nope, cleared my schedule in case this went long, I’ve got the whole day.”

You swear his smile grows two sizes.

“Well in that case,” he looks to the TV, then back to you, “Wanna start movie night early?”

An entire day to relax and chill out before the hell that is exams season takes your every free second? 

Yes please.

“Solstice movie marathon?” you propose slyly, near devious.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” he confirms, already halfway to the kitchen.

You spend the day like that, on the couch watching movie after movie, both pretending the little incident never even happened. 

But you make sure to go home after movie night this time. 

Chapter Nine: TBR

A/N 2: This chapter kicked my ass but it's here and I couldn't be more thrilled. I really like how it's ended so I hope you guys do too.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[the-final-sif]

Baby c!Dream has found something very very scary! He's found a new person! What's the correct response to this new threat?

Obviously, Dream prepared to murder them.

Listen he might've left most of the netherite armor at home (very heavy :( ) but he's still ready to do murder!!

He peeks out from his hiding place in the bushes, only to discover that the voice belongs to...

Another child?

Not a normal child though, there's something very wrong with this child.

They don't have any wings, their eyes aren't purple, they've got no scales and the horns on their head are nubby and would've been hidden by their hair.

Still, they are a child, and murder feels like an unfair response.

Plus... Well, Dream had been getting a bit lonely.

XD visits are nice and all, but they don't last that long. And Dream was used to always having people around.

Now XD had warned Dream that he must be very careful who he allowed close to him. And he took that seriously!

So, with that in mind, Dream carefully survived the other child, watching them for any signs of evil behavior.

After about five minutes he hadn't seen them do much but chew on their own foot. Still, he wasn't quite sure.

In the end, he went home without doing much beyond watching them. The entire situation felt far too scary. He'd never seen a child like that before, and he wasn't ready to interact with one yet.

Despite his nerves, Dream didn't mention the child to XD, not wanting to get them in trouble if they weren't supposed to be close. They didn't really seem threatening after all.

Nearly three years would go by of Dream keeping his eye on this strange child at the edge of his territory.

He was almost content to just watch the stranger forever, as they ventured out into his woods.

But as it turned out, the stranger was not quite so content.

Dream had gotten content to hide in the bushes, and... well he might've gotten a bit distracted by a ladybug crawling on the branch nearby him.

"Why are you in the bushes?"

In Dream's defense, he was spooked.

Which means his response, pulling out a netherite sword and attempting to hit the other child with it, was entirely normal and rational.

Luckily for both of them, he was in the middle of a bush, and the branches blocked the swing.

The other child's eyes went wide at the sight of a sword, but not out of fear.

"Do you have a sword?? That's so cool!! My dad won't let me have one and papa is a simp so he won't let me have one either! Where'd you get it?"

Dream hadn't exactly been expecting that response, but he recovered quickly.

"My- my guardian gave it. To me. For fighting."

Not his smoothest moment. But it got the point across.

The other child reached out with grabby hands, and Dream lurched backwards, tumbling out of the bush and onto his butt.

"Hey- Don't- It's mine and you can't have it!" Dream knew if he could still growl properly, his throat would be rumbling. But he couldn't anymore. He couldn't even really bare his teeth! So he had to hope his sword was scary enough.

"I wasn't- I wasn't gonna take it. I just wanted to look! I've never gotten to see one up close like this!" The other child protested, looking hurt by the accusation of theft.

Ah. Dream might've judged him a little too quickly. Still, he didn't really like the thought of having someone else's hands near his sword, so he carefully tucked it into it's sheath.

"My- my uh guardian told me not to let anyone else have it. I'm supposed to keep it safe." He explained, and while the other child seemed disappointed, he accepted that answer.

That left the two children sitting in an awkward silence.

...

...

...

"What's up with your mask?"

"What mask?"

Okay

When XD had said not to tell anyone about why he was wearing his mask. That was. That was probably not what he meant.

The other child seemed taken aback by that response though, so maybe it worked?

"... The one on your face? Or is that your face? It seems kinda weird."

Shoot. Okay.

"It is not! It's normal! Very normal. And you should mind your own business!"

Dream... might not be good at this whole lying thing. It was harder than he thought it'd be!

Still, the other child threw up their hands in surrender, unwilling to press the issue. Thank god.

"Alright! Fine! You have a normal mask-face. You- Hey, what's your name anyway?"

Oh! This one was easy!

"Dream! My name is Dream! What's your name?"

That got him a grin, and Dream felt something in him delight. He'd forgotten how good it was to have someone smile at you.

"Sapnap! My name is Sapnap! Dream is a pretty cool name. Do you wanna go on an adventure with me? I need someone else so Dad can't claim I was wandering off alone again. Plus you have a cool sword so if there's anything dangerous, you can just murder it."

Well, that made sense, and an adventure did sound like a good way to train. Dream still have five days before XD would be back...

"Sure, as long as you promise to not to steal my sword." Dream agreed, pushing himself back to his feet.

Sapnap beamed at Dream and quickly reached out to grab his hand and drag him towards a destination unknown as he began to talk rapidly and explain where they were going.

Dream was a bit worried about what he'd gotten himself into, but...

Well, it was better than being alone. That was for sure.

And maybe this Sapnap wouldn't be so bad.

Only time would tell.

[starshinerart]

Have you thought about doing a headcanon on Wukong and Macaque reacting to the reader grabbing their tail and playing around with it?

As in, the reader has been curious about their tails for a while now ("what does the fur on their tail feel like?" "Would it feel like a snake if I had it in my hand?" that sort of thing.) But has never gotten the opportunity to see for themselves since they don't really sit next to her long enough to answer those questions herself. But when she does get the chance, she's so engrossed in touching their tail (feeling the fur, the thickness and length, rubbing at the tip and random spots of fur, etc.) she doesn't even notice that Wukong and Macaque were both acting weird because, surprise, they could feel the way she's touching their tails and they're having a hard time keeping still as the way she is touching them felt a little... TOO good. 🤣😝

For Wukong, I can see him daring the reader to try to grab his tail, but being too fast for her most of the time. It's like a game for him. Until the day she catches him off guard XD.

As for Macaque, when the reader grabs his tail, he might look at her in shock at first, but then chuckle with a smirk and say something like "Oh you really shouldn't have done that." before trying something himself.

[bomberqueen17]

moo

there is a cow lying in the park across the street being very idyllic in the morning mist.

last night we finally asked at the front desk if this hotel has a pool. it does. it closes at 9pm tho. the guy gave us directions and we went to find it. it was a four-minute walk at fairly high speed, through several fire doors, down several hallways i would never have guessed were part of this building, and there was absolutely no signage of any kind. but there's an attendant. so it feels to me like. they should want someone to know about this so they can justify the cost of the attendant???

anyway it was a truly wild odyssey. we arrived like ten minutes before closing and the attendant was like "..... can i help you" very weary-politely and we were like "no! we just wanted to find the place!" and he was visibly much happier then and told us all about it.

my new phone is huge and clunky and one of the camera lenses is slightly damaged, but the lens that works is really good so i did take a bunch of good photos and at some point i will organize and present them. today is another outing, however. and i will take even more photos of this outing.

i looked at my credit card statement and in fact they did *not* charge me a hundred quid to not fix my phone, they only charged me for the new phone and then the new-new actually-working phone on top of that.

the cellphone store clerk also asked us, since we'd admitted to being americans, who we were voting for, and when we answered, he said "she's totally going to win! i have asked eight americans recently and seven of them said her!" and dude was like, diplomatically, sir, the sorts of americans who travel to europe are going to be disproportionately the ones who vote like they know there's a rest of the world that exists, so your sample might be skewed. i was still being horrified that an american traveling abroad would admit to supporting That One. blggh if you're going to be a troglodyte stay the fuck home, you don't deserve europe.

i said "politics have been sort of weird here yah?" and he was like "people here aren't political" and i said "what a luxury!"

he also was like "your election affects us though" and i was like "that is a true and reasonable statement."

last night i ordered fish and chips in a restaurant and i had made conversation about how much nicer the weather was than i'd prepared for, for this trip, so the waiter was like ah is it your first fish and chips and i was like oh i used to live here, rather than attempting to explain to him that actually fish fries are a regional specialty in buffalo and they are remarkably identical to the experience here only we have better side dishes XD (srsly britain try german potato salad sometime it's p great as a potato delivery vehicle and it also includes bacon)

i will say when i came here as a teenager i wound up with a really weird accent, but on this trip the combo of traveling with a fellow american and also not being immersed in it to the same extent and also not being seventeen means my normal accent has just gotten slightly stronger i think. i mean also i was here for most of a year then, and this hasn't even been a week, so.

ok time to go out on the balcony and take a picture of this persistently scenic cow.

[melkyt]

Been crying alot about the idea of the immortality surgery in the context of LawLu.

The vibes are immaculate for the angst xd

Say the side effect of the immortality surgery is that while Luffy exists forever, Law's soul is tied to his existence.

Say maybe Luffy's death was not some dramatic thing that happened in battle, no, he just used up the last of his life force by using the gears too often, and it presented itself as a disease sometime in his late twenties.

Law has gotten used to having him around, having a semblance of a family together, picking up orphan kids here and there. Luffy still goes on adventures and travels the world, but he always comes back.

Then he stops going out as he gets sick, on some days he can't even get out of bed.

Law hates watching the man he loves, the man who burns so brightly wither away. So despite his promise, Law can't do it. He does the surgery.

Luffy finds him in the garden, seemingly asleep, peaceful, and gone. His heart shatters and it takes weeks for him to recover, but eventually, he manages to keep going, as he has things to keep going for. Their children, his crew.

He does not know that he is immortal, and does not know what Law did until everyone starts dying around him.

Luffy slowly breaks as he loses everything, everyone he loves. It's when the last of his mortal friends dies, Zoro, who was determined to not go before Luffy, not to leave him alone.

That is when Luffy decides that he has had enough life. That he wants to be with everyone again. Brook once told him that immortality can be a curse. It's worse. Brook is still alive and they sometimes talk, the only thing that keeps Luffy's sanity together as the years pass and stop having any meaning.

He travels the world, looking for a way to break the curse, learning more than he has in years of adventure, still keeping his smile and finding joy but it gets harder, the more things seem to repeat. The world begins to feel small, and sometimes he still imagines Law or his crew being around. The hallucinations do not make life easier.

So when he sees a man who looks and sounds exactly like Law on the island where Law was once born. He brushes it off as another hallucination. "Can't get enough of me, huh Traffy? It's the third time this week" He sighs, running a finger over the rim of his glass.

The man just stares in something akin to shock. He blinks as if not quite believing his eyes.

Luffy tilts his head. The hallucinations usually have some witty rebuke. They don't just stare.

"Luffy?" The man's voice is shaky, he stumbles back, breath coming in quick huffs. "How did I..." Law grabs his head as a splitting headache brings memories with it.

It's Luffy's turn to stare in disbelief. It's been hundreds of years, he may come by the place once in awhile, this is the island where Law was born, its familiar, the little things that never change but he never expected to see the man again. "Don't joke like that" Voice low, a threat on his lips. "Traffy's dead"

"I, yes." The man's knuckles are white around his whiskey glass. "I was... I do... How am I here Luffy?

"If you're fake, I'm gonna kill you" Luffy gingerly approaches, poking the man on the arm. "My hallucinations usually don't feel like nothing"

"Hallucinations? Are there side effects to the surgery?" Law gets over some of his confusion, placing his hands on either side of Luffy's face, feeling his pulse. It beats like a drum, as it has since he awakened Nika. "Weird but normal for you"

Luffy chuckles "Only Traffy would go all doctor mode right now" he wraps both arms around Law, "I'm not letting you go this time." Now that's a promise he will not let either of them break, no matter what.

Luffy uses his willpower and gear 5 to keep Law alive out of determination and to spite whatever force tries to take him.

[moon0shadow]

Sheep MC Ideas XD (I'm loving this crack posts)

-The first time MC became a ball of wool more than flesh, the brothers had a hard time trimming BUT BUT hear this: Sheep wool is expensive. More expensive than synthetic fibers.

So imagine this:

Asmodeus would try to be the first to trim MC so he can use the wool as new fashion statement and might coax MC into dyeing their wool. And it makes a warm coat too.

Mammon will try ask MC to grow their wool to sell the wool specially to the succubus and incubus and other devildom nobles.

Belphie will try Monopolize both MC and MC's trimmed wool because apparently from what I've read, sheep wool makes the best pillows because it's very soft and resistant to dust mites and mold.

Lucifer had to gather brothers in a sheep safety meeting telling them that sheep are friends not business or fashion statements afterwards XD

first ask I've ever gotten. Love it.

I imagine MC's natural pink sparkly wool would make it quite the rare commodity in the Devildom. 🐏🩷

Belphie or Satan using MC's shorn wool to make a wool version of them to put in Lucifer's room, confusing him with MC's weird silence before Lucifer realizes it's not MC, just their wool sculpted in a way to resemble them.

Mammon's crows taking some of it to use in their nests.

If Leviathan plays Minecraft and finds a Pink Sheep, he'll put it somewhere special and name tag it after MC and so it'll never despawn.

[novamirmirsblog]

Steven's Mom

Genre: fluff/angst/smut +18

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 3874

Request: no

Warnings: poorly written smut, cheating

A/n: This literally took me a good month to write, so I think it's safe to say this may be a little bit shit. If the punctuation seems off, it's cause Grammarly keeps being weird and making suggestions -_- BUT ENJOY! Cause I'm not sure when the next fic will be finished XD Yes, smoking is bad but holy shit is it hot when the right people do it.

Masterlist Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Relationships.

That word has always scared you.

Your friends would talk about their recent boyfriends and how they were going on cute group dates and where was your boyfriend Y/n?

Your answer was always that there was no point in settling down with one person when you were yet to try them all. Especially seeing as you had only just reached your 23rd birthday.

Sure, some may have seen that as 'flighty behaviour' and yes, perhaps you should have gotten a therapist when you were a lot younger - but you were always told you were going to be a heartbreaker and the long trail of flings you left in your wake was testimony to this.

Perhaps heartbreaker was a strong word. You were sure that only going on a few dates with a guy hardly led to their hearts being broken but you were pretty and could accentuate your almost forgotten accent which made all the boys fall into a line.

You had moved to America with your family when you were 16 but due to your desire to fit in, you had worked extremely hard on switching your native accent for an American one. It felt as if you were betraying your family but it was too late to break that habit 7 years on.

Using people as a means to an end is never a good plan. Especially when that person was a friend but when Steven had asked you out, you couldn't help but see a goldmine of opportunities.

Steven was sweet. He was the kind of all-American guy that was shoved down the western media consumer's throats. He played baseball throughout his school career and taught the little leagues on weekends. He had the body of a god and the heart of a saint.

For all intended purposes, Steven was perfect.

Steven would be your salvation.

~~~~~

After 3 weeks of non-stop dating, your university friends wanted to see the boy who had managed to keep the notorious serial dater interested for more than one date. You decided to introduce them all, telling your university friends that Steven was a friend from high school.

Obviously they all swooned.

You truly were living the 'American dream'. However your American dream all came crashing down one Tuesday night.

It had been two months since the first date and Steven had invited you over to his house after seeing a movie. You took your shoes off and hung up your jackets before you both made your way to the kitchen. Steven backed you up to the kitchen counter, kissing along your neck using too much tongue. You were a strong believer that neck kisses should be mostly teeth. The tongue was reserved for other acts. The sound of heels filled you with relief. You liked Steven but he needed to work on his game. It seemed that Steven was too engrossed to realise his mother was standing in the doorway.

You locked eyes with her and let out a soft gasp. You thought you saw her left eyebrow twitch but you couldn't be sure because as she took a step towards you, the trance broke and you pushed Steven away.

"Babe?"

She cleared her throat and Steven spun on the spot, his jaw dropping in a comical way before closing again as his face went red. "I can explain..."

"No need to explain Stevie, just don't do it in my kitchen please."

"T-this is Y/n, Y/n, this is my mom."

"Natasha." She extended her hand for you to shake.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs Romanoff." You shook her hand.

"Please dear, I've been divorced for years. It's Ms now."

"Of course. Sorry." You apologised, the urge to wipe your boyfriend's saliva from your neck was growing the longer this conversation went on.

"No need to apologise lyubov."

"Well, we're just gonna go up to my room now..." Steven gave his mother a kiss on her cheek before leading you out of the kitchen.

~~~~~

You stayed the night with Steven but when you awoke, you were in an empty bed. To say you were disappointed would be a lie but you were a little offended that Steven had left you to wake up on your own. Just because you weren't utterly infatuated with him didn't mean he could leave you in his house without so much as a goodbye.

You debated whether or not you should wear the clothes you had from yesterday or steal one of Steven's many, many hoodies. You decided on the latter. One benefit Steven bought was the fact his hoodies absolutely engulfed you, the bottom of the jumper comfortably resting just above mid-thigh.

You crept out of the house, not realising a pair of eyes followed you the entire way down the drive, cigarette smoke obscuring her view.

~~~~~

You didn't see Steven till the following weekend. Personally, you felt it was too soon to be seeing him again, but you had put him off for longer than he would have liked, so you indulged him. The two of you decided to get milkshakes before going on a walk about the local park. It was a predictably mediocre date, and your mind drifted from Steven's blonde hair to a deep auburn. You weren't sure why you were thinking of red hair till you remembered that was the colour of Steven's mum's hair. You hadn't even realised Steven was talking to you till you saw him looking at you expectantly.

"Sorry babe, what was that?"

Steven laughed "Are you ever here Y/n? I was asking if you wanted to come back to my place?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.

"Sure. I wanna drive though." You smirked at him, knowing there was no way he would let you behind the wheel of his precious baby.

"Ha ha." Steven mocked "Get your pretty ass in the car."

~~~~~

The first crack in your perfect American dream life happened when Steven left you alone.

Steven had forgotten he was supposed to be at baseball practice. You were flicking through Netflix, Amazon and Disney+, unable to choose anything, when you heard the front door open and close. You assumed it was Steven coming back, but the slender fingers that slid down your shoulders made you tense and turn around. You strained your neck, looking up at Natasha, her hands still resting on your shoulders.

"No Steven?" She asked, her eyebrow gently raised.

"He" You cleared your throat before continuing, hoping to focus on something other than her hands.

"He..." Natasha prompted you to continue, her thumbs gently creeping up to where your top exposed your neck.

"Had to do something with the little leagues." You rushed out, trying to stop the heat in your cheeks.

"And he left you all on your own, poor thing." Natasha said, drawing shapes along your shoulders as you tried to suppress a shiver.

You weren't sure who the 'poor thing' was. Whether it was you, or Steven.

"You know, I hide my accent too." Natasha said, her lips felt dangerously close to your ear as she let her Russian accent coat her words. "How about you let me hear your real accent too?"

You watched as she moved around the sofa, coming to stand in front of you.

"Um, I mean, I don't know what to say..." You said, your own voice sounding foreign to you as you spoke in your native accent for the first time in years. Not even Steven had heard your true accent.

Yet here you were, showing it to a woman you had met twice.

"krasivaya" Natasha reached under your chin, tilting your head up at her.

"W-what?"

"It means beautiful."

You swallowed, unable to move as she let her fingertips run down the front of your neck.

"Natasha..."

"Yes, sweets?" She responded, her eyes held a gleam that her words did not reflect.

"I don't think this is appropriate."

"What isn't appropriate?"

That made you pause. You weren't sure what made this interaction inappropriate, but you were certain it wasn't. The way your heart pounded in your chest in a way it never did with Steven confirmed that idea. Although your words said that this was wrong, your body didn't want this to stop. With every movement Natasha's nails made against your throat, more goosebumps erupted.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"...no"

"What was that?"

"No." You said with more confidence than before.

"That's what I thought." Natasha bought her fingers back up to your chin as she leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you till your lips crashed. She moved to sit on the sofa next to you, and you put your leg over hers, moving closer to her. You sat on her lap, fiddling with the top of her mom jeans as she ran her hands through your hair, getting lipstick all over your lips. You rested your arms around her neck as she ran her hands under your top, making you moan into her mouth. She shuffled under you, making your hips bump against each other. You bit her lower lip, and it was her turn to moan, the sound travelling down your throat. She pulled away after that, resting her forehead against yours, her eyes still closed as you opened yours.

You weren't sure how long you sat there with Natasha underneath you, but it was long enough for the sun to dip below the horizon. The two of you didn't say anything, but you didn't need to. It was a kind of peaceful silence you never had with Steven.

Your phone buzzed, breaking you out of your peaceful bubble.

It was your brother.

"Fuck. I've gotta go." You stood up, instantly noticing the lack of warmth you suddenly craved. You grabbed your coat and left the house, shouting a hurried goodbye to Natasha.

~~~~~

You received a text later that night from an unknown number. The only thing that gave the identity away was the sign-off, 'сладких снов'. You looked it up.

It was Russian.

Natasha had wished you sweet dreams.

~~~~~

There was something off with you, and Steven was beginning to notice. Steven usually hated his name; he was named after his mother's close friend. A close friend that had led to the breakdown of his parent's marriage. He hated it until he heard you say it. It sounded like peaceful autumn afternoons. In fact, you often reminded him of autumn. To begin with, it was your sweet laugh that reminded him of warm autumn colours, but as time went on, he realised while you were like autumn, he was summer. As often as he wished it wasn't true, Steven knew the thing he had with you could never last.

Steven knew something was wrong. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

~~~~~

Natasha came to your student accommodation on a chilly night in October. The two of you had been texting non-stop in a way you had never experienced with anyone else you had met. She was like an addiction you didn't want to quit.

The two of you wasted little time undressing, and you found yourself hitting the bed with the back of your legs as Natasha ran her hands through your hair, kissing you fervently. She placed her hands on your lower back, easing you onto the bed as she climbed on top of you, legs slotted between yours comfortably. Your neck burned as she kissed her way down it, letting her teeth graze against the soft skin.

"No marks." You panted out, pushing your chin to the ceiling so she could get better access to you.

Natasha made an almost growling sound, the frustration clear as she shoved two fingers into your wet core with little warning.

"Just wait till you're completely mine, printsessa. Everyone will know who gets to leave marks on you."

All you could do was moan, the sound brushing over Natasha's ear.

"Shhh, printsessa" She took the fingers that weren't currently pumping in and out of you to your lips, "we don't want your roommates hearing. They'll wonder why you're enjoying it so much." Natasha scoffs before adding, "There's no way you sound like this with Steven."

The sound of your boyfriend's name leaving her mouth felt wrong, but you didn't have time to feel guilty when you felt Natasha's tongue licking long stripes along your clit. You fell into bliss as you bit your lip hard to stop Natasha's name from escaping. The tinge of metal that spilled onto your tongue made you almost cum again. Natasha looked up at you, her hair beginning to stick to her forehead as she winked.

You panted as she kissed her way up your body.

"How about you make me feel good, darling."

It was your turn to slide down the length of her body till you got to her hot core. Your limbs were heavy, and while you wanted to lie peacefully, you wanted to make Natasha cum more. You had a feeling it wouldn't take long, judging from the way her hips bucked ever so slightly as your breath tickled over her. You grazed your teeth gently over her clit, making her moan before leaving a hickey on her inner thigh.

"Hey!" She let out breathlessly, digging her nails into your scalp and pulling you away by your hair. "What makes you think you can leave marks on me."

"But you look so pretty with them." You pouted for a beat, seeing her expression stay stoikly unimpressed, before adding "Mommy." Her pupils blew even more, and you could have sworn she let out a whimper. Her grip tightened momentarily at the title and you took it as a sign to continue.

You continued to lick and suck, putting two, then three fingers in. You watched as she arched her back and moaned out your name. When she was finished, You took your fingers out, licking them clean as the two of you refused to break eye contact.

You lay there in her arms as she drew patterns across your back and gently scratched your neck. "It's late."

Natasha hummed in agreement.

"You should probably stay the night, right?"

You craned your neck to try to see her expression. Natasha put a finger under your chin and leaned down. "That's probably a good idea." She said, her cocky grin stayed on her face till she gently captured your lips.

That night the two of you slept more peacefully than you had in years.

~~~~~

You lay stomach down on the bed, Steven's voice echoed through your room. He smiled through the screen.

"Baby, I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7:30 for dinner." he grinned. He knew something was off but wanted to hold on to the dream for a little longer.

"Yay! I can't wait!" You were lucky the American accent made just about anything sound enthusiastic

Natasha stirred, turning in her sleep, rustling the sheets gently as she re-adjusted.

"Who was that?" Your boyfriend asked.

"Oh, just one of my friends staying over." You rolled onto your back, accidentally giving Steven a glimpse of silky hair. The movement gently jostled her, disturbing her sleep, causing her nose to scrunch up as she began to wake.

"Okay baby, I've got to go now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Love you, see you tomorrow." You hang up the FaceTime just as you felt a gaze burn into your skin.

"Morning." She grumbled out, sleep making her voice husky.

"Good Morning." You smiled at her as she rubbed her eyes, waking up fully. "We have to tell him."

"Hmm." She closed her eyes again, you were half convinced she had gone back to asleep.

"Not tomorrow though." Her plump lips seemed even fuller from both last night's activities and sleep. "Tomorrow, you have your date." Her mocking tone did not go over your head. She searched the nightstand for the pack of cigarettes she had left there. However, she quickly gave up, settling back down in bed and closing her eyes again.

"Are you jealous?" You asked, a smirk twinging your lips as her eyes snapped open to look at you.

"Of course not. I just didn't think my son was the romantic type, that's all." She said, before kissing you softly.

These early morning kisses were your favourite.

~~~~~

Date night arrived. Or at least it was supposed to. The booking Steven had made got cancelled, so he drove you back to his house, much to your dismay.

You looked hot. Your hair was up, accentuating your long neck and your red lips contrasted beautifully with the black dress that hung lightly off your figure. You were underdressed for autumn, but the previous night with Natasha made you feel beautiful and powerful, and that dress was begging to be worn.

You were confident when you chose that dress but going to Steven's and the thought of having to see Natasha in said dress filled you with dread.

It wasn't that you didn't want Natasha to see the dress; you just didn't want her to see the way Steven looked at you.

You were right to be worried.

It was Natasha who answered the door just as Steven was about to put his key in. The gasp was audible but she played it off as shock that the two of you were back rather than how she felt about you looking like that with him.

"Hi mom. The booking got cancelled." Steven said, his shoulders hung low.

"That is a shame sweetie." She said, rubbing his arm and ushering him into the kitchen. "Good job I just finished cooking."

You and Steven sat opposite each other as Natasha bought the plates of food out. Once everyone had a plate in front of them, she sat next to you. You bit your lip and refused to look up from the plate.

You bit into what looked like a little square pasty and suppressed a moan. Letting out the sound you wanted would only cause more problems than needed. "Wow, this is delicious."

"Thank you krasivaya. They're Pirozhki." Natasha said, her accent bleeding through in a way you knew was deliberate.

You tried to cover up the growing heat in your face by shoving more food in your mouth. Your leg jumped as you felt Natasha's hand on your thigh. You glanced up from your plate, your eyes meeting Steven's as regret punched you in the gut. He was so sweet and didn't deserve what you were doing to him.

This was wrong.

You wanted to move your leg, not wanting to be a cheater. Not in front of the man you were supposed to love. The only thing that stopped you was the wet patch growing in your panties from the way manicured nails traced along your skin.

You let out a sharp sigh, disappointed in yourself and feeling incredibly guilty about how you found out you liked girls. You were hurting an innocent man.

"You okay babe?" Steven asked, his voice full of concern.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you couldn't take it anymore. You looked at Natasha, and the concern in her eyes was as clear as day. You just hoped she wouldn't hate you for this.

"Stevie, I can't do this anymore." You looked at his beautiful eyes. Eyes that should have been the ones you felt giddy about.

Steven smiled gently "I know."

A sob got caught in your throat. You weren't sure why you were about to cry; whether it was from relief or sadness that you couldn't be what Steven needed, you couldn't tell.

"How..." You trailed off, not sure what you wanted to ask or even how to ask it.

"You've been acting off Y/n. You have been for a few months now. Someone else has caught your attention and that's okay. I just hope they make you happy in a way I couldn't." Steven stood, most likely getting ready to go for a drive.

Tears rolled down your face freely now. The incredible guilt was ten times worse now. He truly was the sweetest man you knew.

"I just need to know, who is it?"

You froze, not wanting to tell him it was his own mother who stole your gaze.

For the first time throughout this entire conversation, Natasha spoke. "Do you really want to know?"

Steven pulled his eyes away from you, his expression turning steely. His jaw clenched, and fear flashed through you briefly. "I can't believe you."

Natasha's nails dug into your leg slightly, the only indication that she was nervous.

"Steven," You desperately let out. You weren't sure how to make this better. It wasn't like you were fucking his friend. This was his literal mother.

"No. No. I, I need to go. I can't stand to look at either of you right now."

Just like that, Steven left your life.

~~~~~

"Well, that went just about as well as could be expected." You sighed, glad that everything was out in the open, but a heaviness still weighed in your chest.

Natasha was standing on the back porch, leaning over the rail, looking into the darkness of the back garden. You had gone out to join her after you had collected yourself.

"Yeah." Natasha said quietly.

"I'm sorry." You weren't sure which bit you were apologising for. Was it the way you strung them both along for so long? Or was it the fact that you had broken a mother and son bond? There were countless crimes you had committed and not enough time in the world to apologise for them all.

Natasha sighed. "It's not your fault. I knew this would happen eventually."

There was a pause before you spoke, you weren't sure if you wanted to hear the answer to your question. "Do you regret it?"

She opened up her cigarette pack, lighting it and taking a drag before she answered. "No." She blew the smoke out from her nose.

"Those things will kill you." You said, watching as her plump lips crawled up into a smirk before blowing a particularly large smoke ring at you.

"Not if you kill me first sweetheart." She closed her eyes and allowed the moonlight to ease away any stress she was holding.

"Do you want to stop this? Before I kill you?" You knew the answer to this question before Natasha even began to speak. Her thoughts hadn't been a mystery to you for a long time now.

"Don't even ask that Y/n." She said, the panic slipping into her words. "I adore you."

"I adore you too."

With one last drag, Natasha snuffed out her cigarette, closing the box and throwing them over the railing into the bin below. She stepped towards you, trapping you between her and the railings. She kissed you harder than she had ever kissed you before, with more desperation than you had ever known.

"Why did you throw your cigarettes?" You asked, shocked that she would throw away the thing that had always been with her.

"I don't need them anymore. You're my new addiction."

[iamumbra195]

I want someone to write a bleach AU where Ichigo meets Rukia in his early twenties when he's a stressed out college student trying to figure out what he want to do with his life after trying to go down a medical route and not liking it but not knowing what else to do (I'm projecting so hard but we're ignoring that)

The chaotic potential of Ichigo going through his classes and having to run out randomly to deal with a hollow, of rukia attending his classes with him without formally being a student, of the chaos Kon would create

Give me architecture student Orihime that he occasionnaly talks to because of mutual friends like Tatsuki. Give me fashion design student Ishida that Ichigo doesn't recognize because he never bothered to know his classmates beyond a few here and there and Ishida definitely wasn't one of them.

Give me vet student Chad that has like three cats in his and Ichigo's shared dorm that are definitely not supposed to be there but Ichigo loves them. Rukia absolutely loves them as well.

unhinged ichigo fighting hollows the same way he used to fight those gang members in high school because he wants the adrenaline rush. He would probably get on with Shiro a little better too XD.

Ichigo, who started seeing hollows when he was like sixteen after being attacked by them. Ichigo, who has a weird little power that he doesn't quite know how to use that looks like this weird fullbring thing except without the pass so it's more of like a quincy arrow just not the usual blue colour. It's not really powerful enought to fully take out a hollow cause he doesn't know how to control it but it protects him long enough to get away

It's an interesting idea, to have him see hollows but not be strong enough to fight them the way he usually does for a long time until Rukia comes along. His attitude towards the whole thing would be a little different as well.

Also having spiritually aware Inoue, Chad, and Tatsuki but the former two don't have their powers because they haven't been fully exposed to Ichigo's leaking reiatsu when he gets his soul reaper powers.

Having Tatsuki be closer to Ichigo because of this is a nice touch too, cause now the two of them can both see spirits and Ichigo doesn't quite feel as lonely as he used. The two of them having a rekindled friendship makes me happy for some reason and idk, her just teasing Inoue for having a crush on him and like, plotting to get them together with some help from Rukia when she arrives because she likes to tease Ichigo about Orihime all the time

Oh, and her having a water style fullbring that she incorporates into her martial arts and creates something like Fishman Karate from One piece would be super cool too. She just gives me water vibes for some reason

Also, Ichigo not being teen makes him far less susceptible to manipulation from the adults in his life, more mature, and probably less forgiving— that last part is because I want Ichigo to punch Urahara for what he did to Rukia in the SS arc because I sort of hate that he was forgiven so easily like Rukia didn’t even seem to care???

That makes me so angry for some reason. Like I like Urahara’s character but it doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s a shady shit. I feel like older Ichigo would be less tolerant of his antics than teen Ichigo

Idk, it just seems like such a funny idea to me-- chaotic substitute soul reaper Ichigo + College stress and the existential crisis of trying to figure out what the fuck you wanna do with your life = hilarity

(I'm projecting so hard, someone help me, my coping mechanism for stress is escapism and I've missed like three deadlines and there's like two weeks before school starts and I haven't even gotten around to making my schedule yet, I'm dying pls)

[tobiasdrake]

So. Yeah. Mariko and Yukio haven't gotten to do much in this film.

Fortunately, they carry the final boss fight. Given that this story rightfully belongs to them moreso than Logan, that's pretty cool, actually.

While Viper's out there trying to extract Logan's healing factor, Mariko kicks us off by weaponizing her lampness. Harada comes at her like, "You'll be my lamp now, right?"

HAHAHA GET STABBED FUCKO Princess is rescuing herself from this castle.

Then she does it again immediately after. While Yashida is preparing to slice off Logan's claws with a heated adamantium sword, Mariko jumps in front like "Whatcha gonna do, stab me, YOUR LAMP!?!?"

Yashida's forced to swerve his swing at the last second and accidentally cut the chair open, setting Wolverine free. Though I'm sure there's a hilarious parallel universe where he decapitates Logan instead.

I'm honestly not sure how his sword works? Like. It's an adamantium blade that heats up to be super ultra hot so it can cut through adamantium. But. Like. Wouldn't that weaken the adamantium of the blade? If his blade is so hot that adamantium can be cut through like butter, then the adamantium of the sword should fall apart like butter.

Weird.

Harada switches sides and takes out Viper because she's about to attack Mariko. She didn't do that one on purpose but I'll count it 'cause it's still in a scene where she's weaponizing her lampness and making it work for her.

We all fight with the tools we're given. Agency isn't about how many superpowers she has; It's about what she does with the hand she's dealt.

Which is how we get to the main throwdown for the Final Boss Fight: Wolverine vs. the Silver Samurai.

Viper's fine, mind you. She gets up and starts taking off her clothes while the men are fighting because that's how her regeneration works I guess.

She has to shed her skin like a snake to heal from the arrow. Thematically, it makes sense, though it's funny that the X-franchise found a way to squeeze in another female mutant who has to get naked to use her superpowers.

They're at least more tasteful about it than the preceding films have been with Mystique, however. What you see above is all that's shown. She's shot from collarbone up just for long enough to start ripping off her face and then she's fully dressed next time we see her again.

For Logan's part, this fight goes really badly for him. He loses one set of claws on the catwalk.

And the other near the end of the fight.

He gets fucking worked over like he's never been worked before.

Harada doesn't fare much better.

Japanese Hawkeye shoots an arrow with pinpoint accuracy into the Silver Samurai's eye-slit, but then forgets that he's a ninja again and decides to go reason with him.

So. Y'know. His cause of death is being absolutely terrible at reading the room. And at being a ninja. Fantastic archer, though. Amazing at kyudo. Really should have stuck with that.

So. Yeah. The men are getting fucking shitstomped here. Wolverine does use Harada's stupid, pointless death as an opportunity to figure out the heated adamantium swords and decapitate the Silver Samurai.

But it accomplished fuck-all because it turns out that men are not actually eleven feet tall. That "head" was purely decorative to make the powered armor look cool.

"You fell for my trap of thinking that a man tall enough to wear this like normal actually existed." XD

You know, it's not that surprising that Yashida faked his death in the grand scheme of things. But the reveal that the Super Shredder over here is just a mech suit piloted by a decrepit old man is really funny.

Fortunately, things are going much better for the women. Yukio FINALLY! GETS! TO! BE! COOL!

It's by Designated Girl Fighting with Viper 'cause stories created by men sometimes get really nervous about letting male heroes fight female villains, and will rope in either male villains or female heroes to do it instead. Yeah, I see you, movie that has managed to ensure Wolverine's claws never actually come anywhere near the one female villain in the entire film.

But at this point, I'll take it. Yukio gets to fight someone cool, she gets to look awesome doing it, and she actually wins.

Hangs Viper with a cord and then breaks her neck via leverage. Fuck yes. Eat shit, Viper.

Viper can't just take off her clothes to fix that, I guess, because her neck is broken so her hands don't work anymore. Kryptonite factor.

Meanwhile, the main thrust of the Final Boss Fight is going very, very badly for Wolverine.

Yeah, he. Uh. He loses this fight. Logan loses the Final Boss Fight. In a movie called The Wolverine, Wolverine loses both of his claws, gets incapacitated by the Final Boss, and has his bones drilled into to steal his regeneration.

There will be no sudden turnaround for him. No second wind where he gets a brilliant idea and brings it back around. He just. Fucking. Loses.

Letting the character whose story this really should be instead of him be the one to put an end to it instead.

Taking Logan's own fucking severed claws for herself.

Credit where it's due, she's only able to do this because Logan cut his helmet off earlier. But it's still both surprising and refreshing that it's Mariko, not Logan, who defeats Silver Samurai.

She even does it with a sneak attack via throwing the first blade. Because unlike Harada, she fucking paid attention in Ninja Class.

Logan killsteals with his regenerated bone claws at the very end but. Like. He already has one adamantium blade in his brain and the other in his throat. Yashida had a remaining life expectancy measurable in seconds as it was.

Mariko and Yukio are, surprisingly, the MVPs of this battle. Good for them.

[lost-girl-2021]

I need another fem Spider chapter please. That's so (I don't know what to call it exactly) "refreshing"? Fem Spider is such a rare topic in this fandom and an interesting topic for me, every time I see work with it I go crazy

Here's not a chapter, but I did write something with fem Spider in the canon universe, so here's that to tide you over XD.

Spider had always been an outsider. It didn’t matter if she was around humans or Na’vi, around the young or old. It didn’t matter, because her father was a monster. It didn’t matter, because although Spider couldn’t remember either of her parents, she was a reminder of all the bad they did.

Jake had said it once. He didn’t mean for her to hear it, probably. She’d gotten in a fight with Kiri, over a wooden Ikran that got broken when they were playing. It ended with Kiri pulling her hair and Spider pinching her arm, at which point the adults stepped in and seperated them. Neytiri had punished Kiri while Jake took Spider back to base camp early. She was six or seven, maybe, still too young to visit the Omaticaya without an adult accompanying her.

“You can’t fight with the others.” He told her as they flew, one arm wrapped around her front so she wouldn’t fall off. “They’re bigger than you and sometimes they don’t realize their own strength.”

The lecture wasn’t anything new. Spider was always and would always be the weakest link. Lo’ak was two years younger than her and even he was bigger than her already. She ‘hmphed’ a response, brow furrowing in annoyance.

Jake sighed. “How about I make you a brand-new toy? I’m sure it’ll be much better than Neteyem’s hand-me-downs, huh?”

She crossed her arms in front of her, digging her elbow into Jake’s arm. “I liked that one.”

It wasn’t really about the toy Ikran— if it was, then her mood would’ve been easily changed by a ride on a real Ikran, which can actually fly and take her with. It was about the fight, how Kiri got to stay at camp and Spider had to go back to the stupid lab and the extra-stupid scientists. There were only, like, two other kids there and they were both way younger than her. And they all thought she was weird. Norm would make her put on shoes and too many layers when she got back, Max would probably try to make her do more schoolwork. She hated the lab.

“You can come back in two days, okay?” Jake offered, seeming to sense her mood. “I’ll even come pick you up, so you don’t have to wait for the slow-pokes. How does that sound?”

“Two days?” She whined, turning to glare up at Jake. He was looking forward, too high up for her to be seen, so she tugged sharply on his hair.

“Hey, it’s not— “ He cut himself off as he finally peered down at her, eyes suddenly widening. She wondered if he saw something down below, behind her. But, no, he was staring at her like he’d never seen her before.

“Jake?” She asked, features morphing from angry to scared.

He seemingly snapped out of it as his Ikran jerked below him, startling him back from whatever had happened. Spider, as emotional as most six-maybe-seven year olds were, was already starting to cry, startled from whatever had come over the man.

“Are y— you mad at me?” She mumbled, tears starting to drip down her cheeks. “Are you gonna— are you gonna tell everyone I— I— I can’t go back to the forest?”

A big hand reached up, as if to brush away tears. Unable to breech the mask, Jake settled for pulling her closer, trusting his steed to keep them steady.

“No, I’m not mad.” He assured, cupping the back of her head with one hand. “It’s okay, I’m sorry, it’s okay.”

By the time they landed, Spider had mostly stopped crying. Jake carried the girl inside, peeling off the mask and setting her down once they’d been through the airlock. Max was waiting near the door, frowning at the tear tracks on the girl’s face. Eclipse was still hours away, meaning everyone expected Spider to be gone for hours to come.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, scanning the little human for injuries.

“I— “ Spider cut herself off, feeling like she was about to start crying again. Instead, she justs shook her head, running towards her room.

She ended up crying in bed for another few minutes until she felt better, sure that Jake was already gone by the time she got back up. But, she’d been wrong.

She hated the feel of the shoes trapping her toes, making her always quiet footsteps loud as she crept towards the lab. She hated socks and dresses and most of all, shoes. But, she also hated when people were angry at her and she really wanted to ask Max for a hug. And some food, ‘cause she hadn’t gotten lunch yet and she was too short to reach the rehydrator buttons.

As she neared the lab door, she heard voices echoing into the hallways. The door was always closed to the lab, but she must’ve left it open on accident when she’d ran away.

“I feel like such an asshole.” That was Jake’s voice.

“What even happened out there, man?” Max asked, voice quiet. “Spider barely even cried when she broke her arm.”

“She furrowed her brow and I swear, it was like I was staring at Him again.” Jake groaned. “The next thing I know, she’s crying and it’s her again. But, I . . . “

“Quaritch is dead. And Spider is nothing like— “

“I know that, Max. But, I just . . . it’s just hard, sometimes.”

Max sighed. “It’s hard for all of us. I mean, every day she looks more and more like . . . like both of them.” Spider had snuck back into her room before she could hear anything more. But, the words had stuck with her. It was the first time she’d heard anyone talk about her like that, but it wasn’t the last.

[cuubism]

please please please more silly rabbit au? (eyes)

i... literally had to go write more because there was none XD

more... utter nonsense designed specifically to satisfy @magnusbae 😂

--

The Middle Ages had been getting… weird, lately.

Not the Middle Ages, the historical time period, though that was always reliably weirder than expected, in Daisy’s experience. No, what was truly weird nowadays, and getting weirder by the minute, was The Middle Ages, history and literature class taught by Professor Robert Gadling.

Daisy had heard a lot about Professor Gadling before enrolling in his class. She’d heard he took a common man’s approach to history, focusing at least as much, if not more, on the experiences of average people than on the movements of kings. She’d heard he’d read everything under the sun and was far better than Google if you needed a source for your paper. She’d heard he had a playful lecture style that the burned-out older students, in particular, appreciated.

She had not heard about the boyfriend.

This was, admittedly, a new development, at least according to the gossip mill. Which was feverish, as Prof. Gadling was both well-liked and mysterious, a deadly combo.

But now there was the boyfriend, and what a boyfriend.

If Daisy had been asked to picture what any boyfriend of Professor Gadling might be like, she would definitely not have pictured this pretty goth thing, this being with a preternatural elegance to him. Where did this guy even come from? He even managed to look elegant dressed down and comfy in jeans and a sweatshirt as he was.

The rumors said that he was way younger than the professor, but Daisy didn’t think so. There was something… unaccountably ancient about him, no matter how young he looked on the surface. An old soul, she supposed.

One who just happened to win the genetic lottery and age – or rather not age – like a god.

Morpheus, which was apparently what his name was – and that was a whole other trip – was reclining in one of the seats near the front of the lecture hall. Reclining, quite literally, as he had his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him, notebook balanced on his thighs.

And he was writing with a quill. A fucking quill.

Daisy would have thought he’d just be listening, not being a real student and all (she assumed and also hoped), but he seemed to be taking proper notes, unreadable, swooping cursive notes though they were.

He was also doodling birds in the margins of the page.

Daisy should really stop staring. She forced her gaze back to the front of the room.

Professor Gadling was in the midst of explaining the historical background of the text they were reading, The Book of Margery Kempe. It was a fascinating book, actually. If only Daisy didn’t keep getting distracted by whatever strange competitive game it seemed to be inspiring in her weird professor and his weird boyfriend.

The first time Morpheus had interrupted the lecture with a comment, Prof. Gadling had straight up ignored him, just steamrolled over him, waited until he raised his hand, and then called on him. Morpheus had not seemed embarrassed or chastised about this in the slightest, just blithely asked, “Professor, are we certain that Margery’s visitation from Jesus was a psychotic break, or could it have possibly been a dream?”

Professor Gadling had sighed, hands on his hips. “I think you’re going to have to answer that one for yourself, Morpheus. Also, we haven’t even gotten to that part of the text!”

“I read ahead.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure that you did.”

This sort of thing had continued apace for the rest of the lecture.

Then there had been the eye-fucking. Dear God, the eye-fucking. Every time Morpheus made a snarky comment. Daisy wondered if they knew how obvious they were being.

Daisy had to give the prof credit, though. Despite all the antics he never skipped a beat in his lecture. Didn’t miss a goddamn bullet point.

Daisy really hadn’t thought university would be like this, though.

Now it seemed they were again having an argument over the book.

“It’s said that Margery’s tale is the only surviving firsthand account of an ordinary person’s life in the late thirteen-hundreds,” Prof. Gadling was saying, when Morpheus interrupted, very much in a drawl—

“Oh, but I don’t think that’s quite true.”

Prof. Gadling raised a challenging eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

Morpheus smiled, very snake-like. “Quite.”

“Care to share with the class, Morpheus?”

Morpheus leaned further back in his chair, arms crossed. “I think you know whereof I speak.”

“Oh, I see.” Prof. Gadling’s smile was pleasant. Too pleasant. “You’re talking about that one lost manuscript. Very much lost and not accessible.”

“If that is how you wish to interpret my words.”

“That’s how I wish to interpret it, you git. Stop interrupting the class.”

“I’m simply engaging with the material,” Morpheus protested, pouting. “I believed this was a modern classroom.”

“You can engage with the material later,” Prof. Gadling said, with a significant look, which brought a smirk back to Morpheus’s face.

Oh God, back to the eye-fucking. Daisy did not need this. Right in front of her lecture notes and everything.

“Right,” said Prof. Gadling, forcibly dragging himself back to the classroom and the present. He pointed at Morpheus. “You, quiet. Does anyone else have questions or comments?”

Based on that one class, Daisy might have assumed they had a sort of contentious and snarky relationship. But at the end of the lecture, she caught something different.

She’d lingered behind to ask Professor Gadling a question about the assignment – though she was starting to think that question was better left for office hours later.

As the students were filing out, Morpheus climbed down from his lounging position in his seat, picking his way down the steps until he was standing by Prof. Gadling at the board. Daisy hadn’t noticed before that his notebook had ravens on the cover; why was that so cute?

Prof. Gadling ran a hand through Morpheus’s hair, then let it fall to rest on the side of his neck, softer than Daisy would have expected after their snappy conversation from earlier. “Going to have to ban you from sitting in on lectures, love.”

Morpheus raised an eyebrow. “You would dare?”

“I would dare.” There was something soft about the way he said it, though. Like he was daring to steal a kiss rather than kicking him out of the lecture hall.

Morpheus tipped his head back, looking at Professor Gadling from under his eyelashes. “What if I promise to behave myself?”

Prof. Gadling played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You can’t be giving away all my secrets.”

“Never,” murmured Morpheus, his free hand finding Prof. Gadling’s jacket. “Though it has occurred to me that your students are missing out on some unique historical knowledge.”

Prof. Gadling sighed. “Can’t do much about that. Such is life.”

“Full of frustration?”

“Full of give and take,” Professor Gadling corrected. “Most blessings require a sacrifice of some kind, too, you know.”

“Oh?” said Morpheus. “And which am I?”

Professor Gadling smiled, fond. “Which do you think?”

Morpheus gave him a look that was sly, mischievous. “Nightmare.”

“Oh, too right.”

Prof. Gadling pulled him into a kiss, tilting his head into it with a hand on his jaw, and Morpheus dropped his notebook to bring his hands up to Prof. Gadling’s shoulders.

Daisy realized she was staring again, and slunk out of the classroom before she could be caught.

Yeah. She’d definitely just be waiting until office hours.

[sometimes-sleeby-octopus]

I have new Boba and Matcha Art!!! With bonus “canon” comic :000!!!

I’m obssesed with them!!! Here’s them laying in the grass:

I’m going to try to explain this in a less ramble-y way with new details I’ve thought of! (Because the first post of this AU was written in a sleep deprived haze. First post linked here if you want to see them in color but shittily. Note: I’m leaving out the jackets from here on out because they were a pain in the ass to draw and I don’t always have the energy for that)

So this is from my recently made MxB Bittersweet Memories AU (which is kind of like 2 aus in one). In this AU there is the “canon” universe and the “drink” universe.

The “canon” universe has the main Sonic cast we all know and love with a focus on Sonic and Shadow. The reason it’s “canon” and not just canon is because there is sonadow (and I’m so funny to make that reference <3 /sarcastic) More on that later.

The Drink universe has variations of the main cast (both in personality and appearance) based on different drinks/drink flavors, also with a focus on the Sonic and Shadow variants. In this universe, there is Boba! Sonic (who is extra peppy and sweet like boba) and Matcha! Shadow (who is very calm, since Matcha tea can decrease anxiety and stress). They call each other by their drink names instead of their “canon” names because I might write a fic and the plot I’m about to explain requires them to be distinct from the “canon” cast.

The silly thing that connects these two AUs into one is the weird connection the sonadow variants have. “Canon” Sonic feels all the emotions Boba has toward Matcha, and they sort of reflect into his own feelings for “Canon” Shadow, as seen in the comic above. Matcha experiences all of Shadow’s memories through dreams and general emotions, including Shadow’s memories of Maria and her death. These memories don’t have to be distant and Matcha can experience them as recent as they happen.

For the “canon” universe, this connection leads to Sonic chasing after Shadow and in the end, they get together. Although, it does take some time since they still have their rivalry.

In the Drink universe, Matcha and Boba have already gotten together in the beginning (and they don’t have a rivalry since their story went a lot different). Instead of going on adventures and saving the world, the people of their universe sell drinks corresponding to themselves (Matcha specializes in Matcha Tea, Boba makes boba, etc). Matcha’s sister (Apple Cider! Maria) never died, so he doesn’t have the same or as much trauma as Shadow (Grenadine! Gerald is dead tho but from old age rather than assassination; he adopted Matcha in this universe and they had a good relationship before he passed). This makes dreams and memories of Maria dying distressing (even though he doesn’t know who Maria is). As a result, the connection leads to a Hurt/Comfort scenario that strengthens Matcha and Boba’s bond.

Throughout this whole thing, both pairs don’t even know the other universe exists!!! It makes it funnier on Sonic’s end tbh XD

I know this is. A lot. But I’m not really sorry!!! I love Matcha and Boba so much!!!

TDLR: Drink Universe with drink inspired STH designs (and established sonadow) and “Canon”Universe with regular STH designs with almost but not yet established sonadow have a weird connection that leads to scenarios ✨ (and lots of sonadow moments!!)

[mappsiemakesthings]

I'm nålbinding a hat for a friend, in Korgen stitch (FS 1+2 F1), tentatively hoping to get it done for his birthday next month, but... well, I'm dealing with time, body and energy restraints, so I won't push me and he'll get it whenever it's finished. He won't need it in summer anyway xD

Anyway, le hat has a bump at the top!

I didn't make the bump on purpose it just happened, and I think it did so for 2 reasons:

First, my counting was off bc of how I used the stitch marker. I was still figuring that out and it is still kinda complicated because i still don't know the structure well enough to say "if I bind into this loop from the last round, this corresponds to this loop in the new round i'm making".

I dohave figured out a way now that still goes mainly by vibes, but is a little more precise I think.

Second reason for the bump, is my tension. It's gotten more, well, tense, which you can actually see in this picture of the wrong side of the hat:

The bump has much looser stitches, and the rest of the fabric is denser!

And that's because i started pulling a little on the "off-thumb loop" of the Korgen stitch, so that it's like half way between "thumb thickness" and "thick end of the bone needle thickness".

So that's a thing I learned from this hat, and I'm very happy with it :D

I am pondering whether to remove the bump, like, cutting it out and putting in a flat center, or not. Leaning on leaving it in for the time being, because I don't know if i want to put the extra hassle on myself, also it doesn't look that weird on the head.

By the way, the round I'm doing now?

It's the *stitch 12, increase* repeat ** round x_X I have never had this many increase rounds with a hat before, and I am 100% sure that there's so many counting errors in there xD

Sometimes I start a stitch, counting, and when I finish the stitch I don't remember what I counted! Like, I do have the RAM of a goldfish sometimes o_O But! One day I will have figured out how to "read" the fabric, so that I can find that last increase and count again from there! xD

Counting stitches is my nemesis, and projects that involve a lot of counting, always take the longest time.

I'll be so glad once the increase counting is over omg xD

So, yeah, that's my current WIP ^_^

[thrawns-babygirl]

Fellow crosswhore here, hah

So how about reader and crosshair making out in the pilotsseat (; while reader is grinding on him (clothed) and crosshair basically cums in his blacks because he was so pent up and he is embarrassed about it because reader didn't cum, but reader assures him that it's okay and that there's no need to be embarrassed..

It's not a full smut request but it's something xd

Lots of love! Hope you have a lovely day ღ

Oh anon, you are speaking my language! There is something about Cross being so worked up he can't contain himself that is just so *chef's kiss*

I'm actually not suuuuuper happy with this one (which is weird because this is one of my favorite requests ive gotten so far) and its kinda short but I hope you like it! Let me know if you think there is anything that can be improved on.

Warnings: Humping, Embarrassed!Crosshair, 18+ MINORS DNI Word Count: 606

Travelling through hyperspace was boring. Being on watch while travelling through hyperspace was even more boring. The dazzling blue lights losing their luster after the hundredth or so time you stare out at them with nothing else to do.

It had been such a long, brutal mission, and Crosshair just happened to be the unlucky brother to take first watch while everyone else got some much needed shut eye. There he sat, lost in his thoughts until the sound of the cockpit door opening shook him from his reverie. Spinning in the chair he came face to face with you holding two cups of caf.

“You should be asleep like the others” he said, taking the cup you offered him.

“You’re welcome.” You deadpan “but Wrecker’s snoring is keeping me awake and I wanted to spend some time with you. It feels like it’s been weeks since we’ve been able to actually spend any quality alone time together” giving him a playful smile you take a long sip of your own caf before placing it down on the console in front of you.

“Oh? you want some alone time? Well why didn’t you just say so doll, take a seat” he smirks, patting his legs. You give a shy smile as you straddle him on the pilot’s seat and lean in to give him a long kiss, his hands settling on your hips.

It doesn’t take long for your kiss to turn into a heated make out session, grinding yourself down on his growing erection as he thrusts his clothed length against you until you settle into a steady rhythm. Breaking the kiss to let out a low moan, you rest your forehead against his as your hips work into a frenzied pace atop him, drawing harsh groans from his throat as he continues to buck up against you.

Leaning down towards his neck you begin sucking marks against his throat, your paces never faltering as you continue to writhe against his rock-hard length whimpering against the skin of his neck as he begins using his grip on your hips to move you along his lap with more purpose, grunting and groaning increasing in frequency with each pass you make over his clothed, throbbing cock. You feel incredible, every single movement you make sending shocks of electricity down his spine.

His climax sneaks up on him before he can stop himself as he thrusts up against you, trying to stifle his groans against your neck as he spills himself in his blacks, bucking up against you as his orgasm crashes over him.

Panting he looks up at you, face flushed with wide eyes “I…Kark- I’m sorry doll I didn’t-” you silence his stuttering apology with a kiss.

“Nothing to be sorry about love, it happens” you give him a sweet smile as he runs a hand over his face and leans his head back in the pilot seat closing his eyes and exhaling though his nose.

“Not to me it doesn’t” he grumbles back at you, still refusing to make eye contact.

“Well I guess you’ll have to make it up to me when it’s my watch then won’t you” you wink at him “I’ll get you a fresh set of blacks, wait here ‘till I get back” you stand up off his lap and exit the cockpit.

Groaning in frustration Crosshair leans his head against the back of his seat and stares into space. At least he has time to come up with an apology for the next, he checks the ship’s chrono, three and a half hours. And hey, his caf is still warm.