#BUT I MEAN I GOTTA GET EVERYONE ON THE SAME PAGE EVENTUALLY SO THIS IS A START ��🙏

[coulrology]

So what's the lore with Juniper n their relationship with Vitimir n Hettie?

WELL for both, their relationships go back to their school days! Although the difference being that Juniper and Hettie went to St. Epiderm together, while Vitimir went to a different school (Glandus at the time he met Juniper).

I’ve briefly touched on how Juniper and Vitimir met here, so that explains their first meeting. To reiterate, Vitimir was a shy kid that didn’t really have any friends growing up (aside from bugs/whatever little creatures they spent their time around) and was bullied frequently, so that single positive interaction with Juniper, though small, really stuck with him and he never forgot it. Juniper didn’t forget it either, but being the sociable type meeting and talking to lots of different people, that moment sorta blended in with the rest of their memories. So fast forward to them both working as Coven Heads at the same time, Vitimir immediately recognizes Juniper. Despite Juniper changing a lot since his child self, that one good memory left such a big impact on Vitimir as a kid that he still held that soft spot for them. So of course, when Juniper eventually approached him on their own time, Vitimir already had this layer of vulnerability. Even though they might not have recognized him, from Vitimir’s perspective, there was that sense of familiarity and comfort; Juniper might have changed, but that kind kid was still in him. Now that they have the chance, Vitimir wants to actually get to know this one person who had plagued so many of their thoughts as a kid. And the rest is history!!

As for Hettie! Again, she and Juniper attended St. Epiderm together. Hettie was just as terrifying as a kid as she is now. She was everything- a jock, a princess, a bully, a weird girl, whatever you can think of. Though she’s very open about who she is, everyone around her was always so intimidated by the fact that she was unpredictable (and the fact that she’s both the smartest AND strongest person you’d ever meet is terrifying enough on its own). Most everyone- except for Juniper. To Juniper, Hettie was always such a character. She’s always been so confident and unapologetic, able to command people’s attention without even saying a word. Her unpredictability made everything she did so interesting. Juniper so deeply admired this about Hettie. And the fact that she’s 100% his type only drew them closer to her. Hettie was Juniper’s first ever crush, and that love Juniper had for her never faded. Though as kids, they weren’t in the same social circles, they did cross paths a lot, whether it was through Sonia (Scooter Crane’s daughter and childhood best friend to Juniper, who was also in the Healing Track), or Juniper getting injured for whatever ridiculous reasons. At this age, Hettie didn’t reciprocate her feelings (yet), but she had a fondness for Juniper because he was so different from the other kids for the fact alone that they had a (very obvious) crush on her. And while their crush may have caused them to do embarrassing things, and foolishly being used as her own guinea pig from time to time to practice her magic on, Hettie had cared about Juniper. To her, he always made life more fun and interesting. Fast forward to them as Coven Heads- Hettie has grown a stronger affection for Juniper. He’s changed over the years, but he still makes life so much more fun and interesting. Perhaps now, Hettie admires Juniper for the same exact reasons they always have her. They’re still a bit pathetic around her, but Hettie finds it endearing. Not to mention, Juniper still makes for a good doll to experiment on, and she takes good care of her favorite dolls ;-)

[paperclip-skz]

The Secret Nap Room

fem*Reader x Bang Chan

*WARNING*

contains: p n v, sex, unprotected sex, kissing, TENSION, straight up delulu, grinding, oral (fem receiving), I'm sure I missed something; let me know in the comments.

WC: 2.9k

****

“Well…” he paused, searching for the right words, “I’m just worried that these late nights are starting to take a toll on you.”

You looked up at him, your brow slightly furrowed in thought. “Chan, it’s okay. Honestly, I could say the exact same thing about you,” You replied, your voice steady yet tinged with concern.

He scratched the back of his head, a habit he had when he felt uneasy. “Still,” he murmured, glancing away as if the weight of his words was too much to bear.

You sighed, recognizing his persistent worry. “Fine, fine. The next time you think I should head home,” You said, rolling your eyes playfully, “I promise I’ll listen.”

*********

You yawed for the nth time today, the late night really taking its toll. “That’s it; you're going home,” Chan barged into your office. 

“But-“ you protested, but he was already shutting your laptop and spinning your chair. 

“No buts. Home,” he insists. 

“Just this one last thing. “You attempt to turn your chair, but he’s already had enough. 

He sighs, “If you want things done, ya gotta do it yourself.” 

Suddenly, you feel the air under your feet, and Chan’s arms swing you over his shoulder. “CHAN!” your arms thrash over his back. “Put me down now or else!” but your threats are coated with laughter, having no effect on him. 

You realize that thrashing won't help anymore, so you allow Chan to carry you wherever he takes you. Eventually, he sets you on your feet and turns you around to face a door.

It's the room. His secret room.

The secret nap room. 

When he noticed how many late nights he was logging into the studio, he transformed this room into a personal sanctuary. Now, it is his secret lair, a hidden retreat filled with food, comfy chairs, and even a bed. He ensured everyone knew NOT to enter his secret room, and he kept that up… until now.

When you don’t take the hit to walk in, Chan reaches over your shoulder to open the door for you. 

It's so…cozy, you think. To say the least, it wasn’t what you were expecting. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, creating a sense of immediate comfort. Plush pillows in a delightful mix of colors—rich reds, deep blues, and sunny yellows—are scattered across the floor and piled high against the headboard of the already pulled-out bed, which is draped with a soft, inviting comforter that promises restful nights.

Directly opposite the bed, a sleek, flat-screen television is mounted on the wall, its surface glinting softly in the light. In the far corner, a charming wooden shelf stands stacked with an eclectic assortment of books and notebooks, their spines varying in color and texture. Some are well-loved, their pages dog-eared from repeated readings, while others are fresh. 

You diligently walk into the room, your eyes searching every little object that decorates the room. You are so distracted by all the little things around every corner that you don’t think you will find Chan walking beside you, folding back the comforter. “Wha-”

“Get in,” he insists. 

A chuckle leaves your lips. " You must really like me,” your hands beckon to the room. “I mean, first you're worried about me, then you take me to YOUR secret nap room, now you're making sure I’m tucked in? What's next? You're gonna kiss me goodnight,” You throw out a lighthearted joke, expecting to see Chan’s face scrunch up in that familiar way, but instead, he remains stone-faced. There’s an intensity in his gaze as if he is bracing himself for something. It feels as if he’s not just listening; he’s determined. 

His head nods to the bed again, and all you can do is sigh. “I’m not getting into bed; I’m not getting into YOUR bed.” you emphasize each “your,” you say because it is HIS bed, this is HIS safe space, and your HIS manager. You should be worried about him, not the other way around. 

“Are you really gonna make me carry you again?” he sighs, and that's when you notice his stance. He stands like he stands for Stay, his shoulder stretched broad to show off his defined chest. His legs are slightly spread, giving that dominating look he loves so much. His tongue pokes out his cheek, a habit that both you and Stay have come to love. 

He makes you swallow thickly. All of a sudden, your clothes become like fire to your skin. You don’t even notice when you lick your lips until Chan catches you, “Unless you want more than just a kiss goodnight,” his voice grows two actives lower. 

Your eyes snap to his “I- I’m sor- I wasn’t.” 

“It's okay. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I couldn't take a few people staring at me.” 

“Ha! Yea,” you laugh lightheadedly.

“But! Back to the task at hand,” he pauses, stepping closer to you. “What will it take to get you into bed?” he asks. 

“You should hear yourself,” you laugh. 

“Oh, I’m listening,” he saunters even closer. Your breath hitches again. You take a better look into his eyes. How dark they are, and how many secrets could be hidden inside them. “I’m hearing every word. So I’ll ask again, what will it take to get you into my bed?” 

This is wrong. Your head is screaming at you that you shouldn’t be here, that you shouldn’t be entertaining this idea. But your bodies are like magnets being pulled together. 

He’s too close now, close enough where you can feel the heat of his breath against you. All it would take is for his head to lean down slightly, and then your lips would connect with his.

As if he can sense your every thought, he draws closer, his playful demeanor captivating you. He tilts his head slightly, the movement subtle yet charged with intention, making it impossible for you to look away. You find yourself mirroring his actions, the world around you fading into the background. Your lips draw nearer, pulled together by an invisible force, like magnets yearning to connect, only for him to pull away before you can get a taste. 

You hear a low laugh admit from his chest, it makes you bite your lip. “Get into bed princess” 

You know what he wants to hear. You know he wants you to compile with a pretty smile on your face, but thats not how you play. “Only if you join me, Christopher.” 

He shivers at the mention of his full name, and a big cheesy smile appears on his face. Before you could protest or even react, he pulled you by the waist and fell onto the bed, setting to to lay under him. He comes so close to you, and the anticipation you can feel between your legs is almost painful, so when Chan is finally on top of you, silently begging for permission with his eyes to kiss you, you take full control and capture your lips with his. 

Your lips find a hidden rhythm with each other, dancing to an unforgettable song. His hands explore your curves, pulling at the fabric that separates you two. Soft moans and gentle sighs slip from your lips as you relax into his touch; you’ve never felt so relaxed, so carefully taken care of; it makes your insides melt. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess. Will you let me? Let me make you feel good.” he traces kisses from the corner of your mouth to the spot behind your ear. Words are trapped on the tip of your tongue; the only sounds escaping are moans of approval and the subtle motion of your hips attempting to grind against his. 

He growls into your ear, making your teeth sink into your lip. “Keep your hands above your head,” he instructs, his voice becoming demanding yet cautious. If you don’t, there will be consequences.” He presses his forehead to yours as his hands guide your arms above your head. 

The anticipation is killing you, and your slik is making it impossible for you to concentrate. You try your hardest to keep your arms above your head, but it is a lot harder than it seems when he trails kisses against your clothed skin all the way down to the button of your pants. He unbuttons your pants, keeping eye contact with you. He searches for any signs to stop, but you just bite your lip while maintaining eye contact with him. He peels the fabric from your legs, letting them pool at your ankles. Now it's his time to gawk and bite his lip at you, he stares at your panties and at the small wet spot thats gathered there. “Fuck” he breathes. He looks at you one last time for confirmation, and when you nod he rips the fabric off of you, huffing out an “I’ll buy you a new pair” and attaching his mouth to your cunt. 

You scream his name and grab a fistful of his hair holding him close to your clit, your back arches into a perfect C as he attacks your clit with an unforgiving force, but you whine when his lips are removed, “keep your hands above your head princess” he hisses. 

You groan, but you can’t deny the zing that rushes through your body. You’ve never been bossed around in bed, you’ve never had the opportunity to be submissive to someone so eager to be in control. 

Hesitantly you bring your arms back above your head, and Chan resumes his position, attaching his lips to your clit. Your shattered moans are muffled when you scream into the comforter, your teeth sink into the blankets, and your arms pull at the covers; you’ve never experienced so much pleasure, so much attention drawn to your clit, it makes your head spin. 

His tongue swirled expiry around your clit, sucking and tugging with his teeth. You can feel the knot expanding in your lower belly. You know you're about to break. “Yes yes yes” you chant, spurring him on.

He plunges his tongue past your walls, and your hands instinctively come down to curl into his locks, he growls into your pussy which sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He teases a finger against your opening only slipping the tip in, your hips grinding against his face, begging for the intrusion. 

Your orgasm is so close, all the teasing, his expert tongue, and now his mocking finger, you’re so close, but before your body can tumble over, he removes his lips and finger to watch your body crumble at the stolen orgasm. 

“Nooo” you whine pathetically, but Chan is quick to press his body down onto you, kissing your exposed neck.

His hands diligently sneak under your shirt, squeezing the flesh, “told you there’d be consequences,” he rumbles. 

Your chest heaves with heavy breath, and your eyes threaten to shut, “please” You beg.

“Mmm” he hums, you can feel the smile against your skin, his hands still climbing their way to your breasts. “I like it when you beg” 

“Please,” you strain, curling your fingers into his hair once again. 

He nods his head against your neck before sucking on the skin, creating a pretty red spot you not gonna be able to cover up in the morning. 

He lifts his head. His hands rake your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in only your bra. He stares at you for a moment before taking his hands and squeezing your breasts over your bra. It's like his hands are his claim to you, like he has to touch every bit of you so he can fully claim you as his. 

You take it upon yourself to stretch your arms above your head so your whole body is fully displayed for him in the best way possible. He leans back, eyes your body, he sits back on top of you, his thighs trapping you below him, “Fucking Christ,” he whispers under his breath. 

“Your turn, hot shot.” You eye his plain black T-shirt sticking to his body. 

He chuckles and pokes his cheek with his tongue, as he always does, before lifting his shirt over his head. Your eyes widen at how defined his chest is. You knew he was fit, and you saw the edits Stay made, but the fact that his abs were mere inches from your eyes was a completely different story. 

You lift your hand to trace a single finger down the middle of his abs. His whole body tenses under your touch, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. You bite your lip at the sight of him. 

“Turn over for me, baby” he says through gritted teeth. 

You twist your body around so your face is pressed against the blankets. Chan’s hands lift your hips up so your ass are in his hands. You feel one of his pillows being shoved under you, so you're more comfortable. 

You can feel his erection pressed against your ass, the rugged fabric of his pants making every movement he makes more exhilarating. You close your eyes as you feel his chest press against your back so he can whisper in your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to look me in the eyes for a week without blushing.”

A small whimper escapes you. “Please,” you beg. 

“Please, what, baby? Use your words,” he whispers again, his hands messaging the flesh of your hips. 

“Please fuck me,” you call in a breath. 

You can feel his chest vibrate with a chuckle. “Where are your manners baby girl” 

You whine, “please.” 

“Please fuck me what” he coats your ear, and your chest fills with need. You don’t care how desperate you sound or how pathetic of a position he has you in, he is in complete control and he knows it. He has your pleasure in the palm of his hands, and you couldn’t be more turned on. 

“Please fuck me, Christopher,” you finally moan out. 

“Good girl,” he kisses your shoulder before lifting himself off of your back. You hear some slight shuffling and then the pressure of his member lining himself up at your entrance. 

You press your forehead into the mattress, preparing for the stretch. The feeling of his thick tip alone sends both a thrill and a slight panic through your body. 

He slips the tip barely past your walls, and your eyes squeeze tight, “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” Chan's words guide you as he pushes the rest of the way past your lips. 

Once you finally feel him bottom out inside you, he stills, letting you adjust to the sheer length of him. His ministration from earlier left you so wet it made it so easy for him to slip in, but the stretch left you gasping for breath. 

You can’t see the way his face contorts into pleasure, the way his nose scrunches up at the way you're clenching around him or the way his skin shines with a sheer coat of sweat. But you can feel the way his dick twitches inside you, wanting so desperately to plunge into you. 

Instinctively, you push yourself harder against him, wanting him more. He can tell you're desperate; you can tell by the way his breath catches in his throat at your action.

“Fuck” He says with a shaky breath, his hisp start to slowly thrust, dragging against your walls deliciously. 

You moan out as you try to match his thrusts, but he quick to grab hold of you restricting your movements. “Your gonna take what I give you like a good fucking girl” he ruts out. 

The next thing you know the only sounds that fill the room are your screams and the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

****

You wake up, legs throbbing, pussy throbbing, throat dry as the desert, and hot. Oh my god, why am I so hot? You glance to your side, drawn in by the comforting warmth. There, nestled peacefully, is Chan, his chest rising and falling gently with each breath. His eyelids flutter softly, betraying the delightful dreams dancing behind them, while a hint of a smile plays at the corners of his slightly parted lips. 

In this moment, the reasons for your earlier wakefulness and the discomfort that had stirred you from sleep fade away like wisps of fog in the morning light. Instead, you feel an overwhelming urge to draw closer to him, to wrap yourself in his warmth and forget about the worries of the outside world. You snuggle up against him, relishing the softness of the blankets and the steady rhythm of his breathing, finding solace in his presence as you drift back into a peaceful slumber.

He was spot on about what he whispered in the dim light of the bedroom, a truth that resonated with you not just in that fleeting week but stretching into the weeks that followed your intimate encounter. Each time you caught sight of Chan across the bustling office, a wave of warmth washed over you, flushing your cheeks with a deep crimson hue. It was as if the memory of your shared moment lingered in the air, a secret connection that electrified even the briefest of glances. Now, whenever Chan senses even a hint of restlessness or fatigue in you, a possessiveness takes control of him, knowing precisely how to bring you back to that comforting place where you both belong.

[phoniexrose02]

Scared for you

Miles Morales x Black! Reader

Spider-Man 2

When Miles Got Visions of You being attacked bySymbiotes be Knew he had to get to you Immediately, Even if you didn’t wanna see him right now he Couldn’t let you get Hurt. He’d felt bad leaving Peter but he knew Pete at least stood a Chance. He’d Swung Quickly to your House only to Find you on your Quiet Porch with a Heavy Metal Bat in your Hands, You Perked up quickly Rising from the Porch stairs Gripping the bat as he Landed in your Yard.

You were Fine..?

Despite your Rough Home Life, He was actually Glad you Decided to Stay Home Other than Run to his House.

“Your Safe..” he Hushed out almost Shocked, You Smiled Leaning against the Doorframe.”Yea Uh Weird Alien-Invasion Goin’ on Rightnow” he let out a Small Chuckle as you do the Same.

It was Nice,It was almost like you two weren’t Fighting at all…

He Removed the Mask from his Face the Look Making you want to Hug Him.

“Look, i was-“

“Scared?”

“How did you-“

“ I was Scared for you Too, Is it Bad out there?” He Nodded .”Yea…its bad” he started, But you could tell he had something else on his mind.” Look i know We’re Not exactly Talking…But i Miss you an i’ll Love you Even if we’re not on the Same Page” You Smiled Walking up an Gently Grabbing his Face, His Cheeks Warmed in your Hands as he took in your Beautiful face up Close But he eventually Relaxed Resting his Hand against yours an the other on your Waist.

” I love you~” You Smooched at his Lips Once. “and i Miss you Too” you Kiss him again but only Briefly as you Pull away, he Bit his Lip Craving another Kiss until you started talking again.” You can always Talk to me Miles, so what we had a Little Spat. Every Good Relationship Does, Doesn’t Mean i don’t Love you” you wrap your arms around his Neck an he pulls you in for another Warm Kissing Mending his Worried Heart.

You Moan into him Before Pulling Away Again.”You Gotta Go…They Need you Spider-Man” his Head Perked as he’d almost Forgot what the Hell was Goin’ on.

“Yea!” his hands Left your waist as you’d handed him his Mask that he quickly put back on. As you went to head back inside he Quickly Grabbed your Hand.”Wait! After this You should let me take you out..”

“Out??” You Questioned.

“Well! Come over..Ma Misses you, and shes planning this Dinner for her Guy Friend…and i want you with Me” he hushed the end of his Sentence feeling a little Embarrassed.

“Of Course”

“Really?”

“Yes Miles” You Lift up his Mask just Enough for another Small Peck to his Lips and he smiles as he Swung away To the Fight.

[ohbloggerimagines]

HELLO

First of all the way you write rocket is genuinely amazing. Eating up everything you put up on your page with him.

And second, i was wondering if you would be ok with writing rocket x reader where reader comes out as asexual to him. And at first Rocket thinks the problem is him and the way he looks but the reader explains that there's nothing wrong to his looks, it's just how they are.

A little hurt comfort maybe where it's just a misunderstanding.

Hope you are having a good day and thank you

Here you go <3 I really hope this is kinda what you were thinking because I got VERY carried away

and if i implied anything in a bad way im sorry ;;

pairing: rocket raccoon x fem!reader

word count: 2,788

tags: gotg, rocket raccoon x reader, asexual, fem! reader, angst, swearing

You sat on the large couch in the common area, re-reading the book you had read probably hundreds of times at this point. You could hear the laughter of Peter and Rocket from the front of the ship, and every now and then the sounds of someone walking around on the upper decks. 

“I’ll be right back, Pete.” You heard Rocket say, your eyes lifting from your book as you heard him making his way to where you were. “Hey sweets.” Rocket said, taking his usual spot next to you, “Hey Rocky.” You smiled, looking over at him. “That damn book again? You’ve just about ruined it for yourself haven’t you?” He chuckled, “No, no. It still reads the same way it did as when I first picked it up.” 

You could tell by his eyes, he wanted something.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Peter, you know, steer and navigate and what not?” You asked, raising a brow at him. “Well,” He said quietly, scooting closer to you, “Pete’s got it.. I have some time,” He started, hand placed on your thigh and slowly creeping upwards. Your breath hitched, “Oh, uh, you know, not right now, Rocket. Maybe later tonight..” You said, seeing the disappointment in his face, his ears twitched ever so slightly. He pulled his hand away. “Alright.” He said, leaning back into the cushion. “That’s what you said every other night..” He mumbled, standing back up almost as soon as he was getting comfortable. “Rock-” You started, almost tempted to reach out to him. “No, I get it, it’s fine. Y’know Peter probably needs me anyway, gotta help him with his shit all the time.” He huffed, feigning a smile. You opened your mouth to try and stop him, but he just stared at you. You closed your lips, eyes darting back down to the book, listening to his footsteps almost hurrying back to the pilot area. 

You dropped the book into your lap, hands cupping your face as you sighed heavily, trying not to cry. How were you going to tell him? 

-

“I just don’t get it, man.” Peter shrugged, glancing over at the slightly irritated raccoon. “Why don’t you just ask her what's up?” “I don’t think it's that easy, Pete.” Rocket huffed, staring out into the darkness of space. “I mean, everyone has needs, she’s gotta come around to it eventually, right? I mean, yeah it's a little weird, y’know, you being a raccoon and all and she’s-” Peter felt the side eye from Rocket, “But she likes or loves you or whatever, soo..” “How do you do it?” Rocket asks, Peter raising a brow. “You boast about all these women you’ve been with, including Gamora, how do you get them to, y’know..” His voice trailed off, almost embarrassed to be asking this damn question. Peter snickered, “How do I get them in bed with me? Now Rocket, that is private information that I don’t think I want to share with you.” He teased, “But, I guess it’s just my charm.” When Peter didn’t get a response from the normally snappy raccoon, his eyebrows almost softened, feeling bad for his best friend. 

“Look man, you gotta flirt with her and shit. Don’t be such an asshole all the time, like, tell her how beautiful she is, compliment her and stuff.” Peter shrugged, “I do!” Rocket threw his arms up, “Or at least I think I do. Am I that much of an asshole that she won’t even sleep with me? I mean I’ve tried, I’ve made moves, we sleep in the same damn bed half the time! She just rolls away or mumbles ‘not tonight’ again and again. Why the hell are you humies so stuck up sometimes?!”

Peter glanced over at him, doing one of those half ass-white Terran smiles. Peter was catching on to what you were feeling. 

“What?” “Nothing, nothing.” Peter shook his head, eyes back on the literal space in front of him. 

“You’re no help either, dammit.” He hopped out of his chair, “I’m going to talk to Drax.” Rocket waved his paw at Peter, climbing the ladder to the next level up.

Peter shook his head, thinking he had to go talk to you to try and figure this out and help his friend if he could.

-

“Drax!” Rocket banged on the large metal door, sliding open to reveal the tall, muscular man who resided behind it. “Yes?’ Drax asked, almost confused as to what Rocket could possibly need from him right now. 

“Gotta talk to you.” The raccoon said, sliding past Drax, “And close the damn door, I don’t need anyone, especially Y/N to hear.” He relaxed hearing the metals connect to the closing door. 

“So,” Drax started, 

“How do you get a woman in bed?” 

Rocket asked flatly, almost catching Drax off guard. “You came in here to ask me how to make love to a woman?” “No no, Jesus, not make love, I can do that shit, but how do you convince her in the first place? I mean you had a kid, obviously you know what you’re doing.” Drax sat on his bed, watching Rocket climb into the chair across from him. “You’re trying to have sex with Y/N?” “Yes! Duh, who the hell else? But she just..won’t.” Rocket shrugged, swaying side to side in the chair, “Well when I met my wife..” Drax trailed off, thinking for a moment about her. “We fell in love, and made our beautiful daughter. Maybe you two are not in love.” Rocket stared at him blankly, “We definitely are.” He said confidently. 

“..Maybe it is because you are small, and hairy. And sort of ugly.” Drax stated, Rocket baring his teeth slightly at him. “Shit, you’re as much help as Pete is.” He groaned, rubbing his eyes. 

“Have you considered just asking?” Drax suggested, “Peter said the same damn thing. The hell do you guys want me to do? Just walk up all ‘Oh hey Y/N, wanna have sex with me?’ I don’t think so.” Rocket argued.

“Yes.” Drax said matter of factly. 

“You know what, screw this.” Rocket jumped from the chair and made his way to the door. “And so help me Drax if you say a word to anyone about this I will claw your damn eyes out.” The door shut heavily behind a very disheveled Rocket.

-

“Y/N? Y/N!” You heard your name being called, the voice approaching from down the hall. You set down the dish you were cleaning and leaned out the door of the kitchen, seeing Peter poking his head into all the hallway doors looking for you, “What’s up?” You asked, raising your brow. “You free?” Peter asked, causing confusion on your end. “Uh.. yeah, why? Something happened? Need some help up front?” “No, I just have a question for you.” Peter walked into the kitchen and leaned on the counter as you picked your dish back up and continued to clean. “Ask away.” 

You could hear Peter swallow, almost nervous. 

“Have you and Rocket ever..” He trailed off, anticipating you to start telling him ot fuck off and mind his own business. Instead you became ridgid, feeling all the color wash from your face. “I-I don’t mean to be intruding!” He tried to save himself from the awkward conversation ahead, noticing you tense. “Why?” You asked quietly.

“Well, ugh this feels so weird to talk about and I probably shouldn’t be but, Rocket came to me and like, asked how to get with a woman..in that..situation..because he said you wouldn’t..” His voice was quiet, almost like a child afraid to be scolded. 

You let out a heavy breath, setting down your plate. “I know what you mean.” You didn’t even bother looking over at him. 

“Do you even..want to?” 

“Yes, well, no, but not no in a bad way. It’s just..I’m..” You dropped your shoulders,

“Is it Rocket?” “No, of course not. It’s definitely me.” 

“Oh. I get it. Then why don’t you talk to him. Let him know..? 

You let out an accidental laugh, “Ha! Easier said than done.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Come on Pete, you know Rocket. How he reacts to shit.”

What you didn’t know was the keen ears of a raccoon had picked up on his name on your lips down the hall, stopping in his place to eavesdrop.

“I just can’t do that, I’m not into it, y’know? You seem to have figured that out.” You said. 

Rockets ears pinned to his head, clicking his tongue, “Whatever..” He brushed off the hurt, continuing on his way down the hall, failing to listen to the next words out of your mouth.

“I love him, everything about him. But I just don’t feel those feelings. And I never really have for anyone, anything even. I don’t know if Rocket would believe me if I tried to explain that to him..” You rubbed your temples, Peter trying to think, trying to help the both of you. 

“I thought I’d be able to figure this out if I heard both stories here but, you’re right, he’d probably just assume the worst. I really just think you gotta tell him. I know it won’t be easy, but he doesn’t know what to think, he’s confused as to why whenever he makes a move you shy away everytime. He needs some type of explanation, and you need to stop hiding it from him if you really love him.” 

You closed your eyes and shook your head, a shaky sigh escaping your lips. “You’re right.” “Per usual.” Peter said coyly, earning himself a death glare, “Ok, sorry not the time for that. But, I’ll leave you to it then. I don’t know where he went after he brushed my advice off. He couldn’t have gone far.” Peter waved, “But it is getting late, he might’ve decided to head to your- his-  the room for the night. I’m gonna do the same soon.” He suggested, leaving the kitchen and heading back to his captain seat. 

Gotta tell him, don’t you? 

This was a lot for you to decide.

You wanted to tell him, but then again it’s Rocket. Snarky, aggressive, jumping to conclusions, Rocket.

-

You had made your final rounds of checking on everyone before you headed to yours and Rockets shared room. Saying your goodnights and making sure doors were secured, lights that weren’t needed were off.

Were you stalling? Yes, for sure. You now knew Rocket had some type of suspicion about why you wouldn’t engage with him, and you became nervous to even enter the room, afraid to get either berated, interrogated, anything. You just weren’t ready to come out to him yet.

You slowly opened the door, prepared for what you thought was to come.

But nothing. 

“You’re in here early.” You said wearily, noticing how calm he was.

That was unusual for him. 

“Yeah, had some shit in here to do, figured get it done before Peter talks my ears off about getting it done.” His back was facing you.

Normally he would get up, hug you, kiss you, tease you, anything. But he was scarily..normal. 

“Oh, alright. Sounds good.” Your nervous eyes darted around the room, searching for your pajamas to grab to get an excuse to go to the bathroom and escape the tense air. 

“You left them on the bathroom floor when ya changed earlier.” Rocket read your mind, “Thanks.” You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door and letting out a heavy sigh.

Gotta tell him, gotta tell him. Dammit! Just tell him.

A knock at the door. “You good? I gotta piss, hurry it up.” Rocket almost hissed. You didn’t realize how long you had been sitting there. 

“Sorry.” You practically tore off your clothes and got into your pajamas, opening the door and getting right into your bed. 

How were you gonna approach this?

You heard the trickle of urine hitting water, your heart speeding up.

Gotta tell him.

The flush of the toilet.

The bathroom lights went out, and out came Rocket in his own pajamas, which was just a pair of loose pants. 

He got back into his chair at his desk, the sound of screwdrivers hitting screws, wires snapping with electricity. 

“So, um.” You started, picking at the skin around your nails. “I know earlier I said we could..tonight..” 

You glanced over at him when his tinkering noises silenced. Ears twitched with irritation, flattening ever so slightly. 

“I already know the damn answer. It’s no, again.” 

“Yes, But, I need to tell you something-”

“Oh,” He spun, looking at you harshly, “I already know the damn answer.” 

“You do..?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Who told him? How did he find out? A god, he was a lot more mad than you thought he would be. 

“I sure as hell do. And I don’t need to hear another word outta your damn mouth.” He snapped, eyes staring into yours.

“I didn’t think you’d be that mad about it.” 

“You gotta be shittin’ me, Y/N.” He laughed. 

You almost cracked a smile, assuming his laughter meant you had mistaken his anger. 

But you were so wrong.

“You’re not into it, I know that now. Not into me, not into the way I look, I bet thats what it fuckin’ is. You just can’t do it.” He seethed, anger leaking from his tone.

“Wait, Rocky, what-?” You sat up into your bed. “Oh don’t ‘Rocky’ me. I heard you and Pete. I heard what you said. I love you, Y/N and you just go and say some shit like that? Ya just can’t do it.” He mocked you with the last line, turning back to face away from you to pool in anger.

“You were spying on us.” You mumbled. “It's hard not to spy when you’re just blurting names out willy nilly.”

“You didn’t hear the whole fucking conversation!” You snapped back, causing Rocket to shift in his seat and turn an ear to you. 

“Oh yeah? And what else did you say? How much I disgust you? How you would never sleep with me? How I’m probably just some dumb idiot who-”

“Rocket! God dammit listen to me! You shouted at him, your tone laced with frustration. 

He turned to you, placing his hands behind his head. “Fuckin’ speak your peace then.” 

Your face dropped. 

You had to do it now, with his attention.

“I..I’m..” You stumbled over your words getting caught in your throat. 

“Right.” He scoffed, getting out of his chair. “I’m getting a drink.” Rocket made his way to the door, 

Hand reaching for the handle..

Just say it.

“I’m asexual.” You whispered.

“What?” His ears perked up, body turning to you. “You’re what..?” 

“Asexual.” You swallowed the nervous lump, waiting for him to start some shit.

“That's.. It? This whole time?” “A long time, actually. I just.. Didn’t know how to tell you..how you’d react.” His gaze softened as he made his way to you, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“So it’s..not the way I look or..” “Oh god no, Rock, I think you are the most handsome guy in the galaxy. You have an attractive personality, too. I just don’t feel those feelings like you do. And I’m sorry if I can’t give you what you-”

“Shut up.” Rocket said lowly, taking you back. “What?” “You don’t have to apologize, you idiot. You could’ve just told me. I would’ve been fine with it. I mean, I am fine with it. Just.. kinda mad it took you so long. Do you not trust me or somethin’?” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, “I do trust you, I just assumed you’d be angry.”

“Well you know what they say about assuming.” He teased. “I’m just glad to know you don’t think I’m an ugly fuck or some shit.” 

You tousled the fur on his head, “Of course I don’t think that.” “Thank god, your opinion is the only person’s that matters to me.” Rocket chuckled, sliding off the bed and back into his chair. 

“Now c’mere, I need you to help me with this, and I want your beautiful dumbass next to me.” 

You rolled your eyes, pulling up your own chair beside him, both of you leaning over the desk in the low light of the desk lamp. 

“So, Y/N, when we’re done with this, can you um.. Educate me a little on the whole asexual shit? I’m tech smart, not that smart. Don’t wanna make a fool of myself.” He said softly.

“Sure thing, Rocky.” You smiled.

[dont-f-with-moogles]

Hi! I am a sucker for hc where Levi is illiterate when he first joined the scouts, tried to hide it from everyone but eventually Hange notices..LEVIHAN FLUFF ❤️✋💀

This was an awesome ask! Thank you so much for sending it to me. I love writing canonverse, especially when I get the chance to work in a hc amongst the source material. I added some of my hcs for Hange too. Hope you like it - let me know what you think! A World Without Words Characters: Levi x Hange Word Count: 1632 words Canon universe

A hush had settled over the Mess Hall, broken only by the occasional clinking of cutlery and low hum of voices. A pair of fresh recruits were heatedly debating a topic in low, urgent tones. The newly-appointed leader of Second Squad sat staring into an empty tankard. On the far side of the room Hange had taken a lone seat at one of the long, wooden tables. Their hands were clasped upon the tabletop; in front of them a plaid tea towel had been draped over two dishes. Eyes alight, they spied Levi as he entered through the main doors. Slyly, and without turning their head, Hange mapped his progress as he crossed the hall towards them.  

“Evening, Levi!” they began animatedly before he had even reached for the backrest of the closest chair. “Now, I know this dinner is seriously overdue, given how long it’s been since your first expedition…”

Levi scraped his chair against the flagstones noisily, causing several heads to whip around in their direction. 

“...I’m sorry that I couldn’t afford anywhere more fancy! My measly wages just don’t stretch that far,” Hange laughed. “But luckily, I was able to save us -” Theatrically, they flung back the plaid cloth to reveal two floral-patterned plates bearing thick slices of flaky pastry, each deep-filled with cold offcuts. 

“The last two pieces of pie!” 

“You needn’t have gone to any trouble,” Levi said in a low voice. “I’m not hungry.”

Hange’s hand dropped to the table in defeat. “So much for that then. I guess I could always give the other slice to Moblit…”

Levi took a seat beside Hange, one arm leaning on the table’s edge. “You brought those papers, right?” 

“Right! The purchase order forms.”

Hange reached down to retrieve several crumpled sheets, a pen nib and a small well of ink from their bag. They pushed the plates aside and laid the materials out between the two of them.

“I’ve been curious since you mentioned it, Levi… what exactly do you need these for?”

Levi leaned back so that his elbow rested on the back of his chair. “Well… since I’ve been made Captain, it means I’ve gotta sign formal papers, right? Let’s just say someone suggested I take a look at a few examples.” 

“Ah, then say no more!” Hange brought the top sheet closer, tracing the lines of cramped, untidy scrawl with their finger. “The item you’re ordering goes in this column, reference or serial number if needed in the second column, and then the cost goes here.” Their finger travelled to the bottom of the paper. “Then you need to sign and date it before it goes to Erwin for approval.”

Hange sat back as Levi pored over the contents of the page. “Do you use the same form for everything? Food, equipment - things like that?”

“The same type of form, sure, but you would order food provisions separately to, say, housekeeping supplies or weaponry.” Hange pushed their glasses further up their nose. Levi’s brow was furrowed in concentration as he read, his mouth silently shaping the letters. Hange felt compelled to offer an apologetic shrug.

“This one is for specialist equipment,” they tried meekly. “The top row says ‘microscope.’ It’s not easy to read thanks to my bad handwriting!”

Without reply, Levi shuffled the papers so that a bank sheet was placed beside Hange’s order form. His expression, if anything, grew more intense as he dipped the pen into the inkwell. Hange glanced around the sparse hall, listening to the scratching of Levi’s writing amidst the murmur of voices. It was only as he drew to a sudden halt that Hange looked down at the page. They were astonished to see it empty.

At first, Hange wondered whether the pen nib had finally broken. It was one they had long meant to throw out. But - no - Levi had only managed to produce a few disjointed letters before the pen had come to a rest, point-down on the page. His arm was trembling as he pressed the nib down hard. The metal buckled, threatening to snap. 

“Levi!” Hange grabbed the tea towel to mop up the ink which had spurted onto the paper. “Stop - you’ll tear a hole in it!”

But Levi was still glaring, the pen clutched in his whitened fist. All of a sudden, Hange felt like a fool. They removed the towel, twisting it upon their lap as they sought for a tactful way to address the obvious, but unanticipated, obstacle which lay before them. 

“Sorry. Perhaps one of Miche’s reports would have been easier - clearer -  to follow.”

Hange swallowed uncomfortably, the heat rising in their cheeks. 

“No.” Levi’s voice was calm, at odds with his squared shoulders and stiffened arm. “It’s not the handwriting.”

“Then… I’m sorry that I didn’t make the connection.” Despite their desire to avoid any further embarrassment for him, Hange could not help but scrutinise Levi’s writing. “I’m sure things in the Underground were very different when it came to education…”

Levi met their enquiring gaze, his eyes narrowed.

“I can read and write. I know the words I need,” Levi dropped the pen upon the table. “But when it comes to certain technical words like these…” He gestured at the paper. “...they never mattered as much. In that place, you didn’t need to know how to spell to go on living.”

“That makes sense.” Hange’s own shoulders relaxed a little. “Perhaps you never had a formal education, Levi, but you have combat skills and street smarts. You’re good at reading people.” 

Levi scoffed bitterly.

“Believe me when I say that Erwin doesn’t hire leaders based on their literacy levels.” Hange regarded him warmly over their clasped hands. “Not when they have so much more to offer.” 

Levi held their look for a moment before he glanced away uncomfortably. 

“And in the meantime, I can help!” Hange took a fresh sheet of paper from their bag and passed it to Levi for him to etch out a copy of the three columns.

“For instance when you write ‘grapple hook,’ ‘grapple’ has the ‘l’ and the ‘e’ the other way round.” Hange watched as Levi carefully transcribed the correct spelling onto the sheet.

“Underneath you wrote ‘gas’ before you stopped. Is that for a new batch of gas cylinders?”

Painstakingly, Levi copied each letter as Hange spelled the second word. They continued in this way until Levi had populated the columns. 

“I bet you picked all this up from books, huh Four Eyes?” Levi lifted his hand to check his penmanship. The letters were a little uneven and spaced out. Like a child’s writing, the dark ink glistened from the exertion of pressing the pen nib a little too hard against the paper. “Tell me you weren’t huddled under the covers each night, reading until morning?”

A wistful smile appeared on Hange’s face. Then the light dimmed in their eyes.

“I wish…” When they laughed this time, it was a hollow sound. “... but we didn’t have books at home.”

Levi placed the pen down. Hange lowered their hands to grip their knees, their gaze averted to the tabletop.

“I managed to get a couple of books from a trader in town. They were black market goods. I thought I’d hidden them well enough but my parents found them and burned them.”

Levi raised his eyebrows.

“Wallists,” Hange explained in answer to his surprise. “They were simple farming folk. Small town people with small minds. They were wary of outside influences and with good reason too. Each week came reports of disappearances, killings… the inescapable fates which awaited those who asked too many questions.”

They gave a small sigh.

“My school, like the others, banned all books other than those which were government-approved. We weren’t allowed to read for ourselves, think for ourselves or question what we were being told. It was all so -” They brought their fist down upon the table, sending the long-forgotten plates of pie clattering. “- infuriating!”

Levi’s mouth hung slightly open.

“We never really had books in the house either,” he admitted. “I remember there was one that Iz-” He stopped himself. Hange said nothing, for Levi had not so much as uttered the names of his two closest friends since their first disastrous expedition almost one year ago. 

Levi drew a breath and continued.

“We didn’t have much… what we did have was either traded or sold.” He rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand. “I can’t even remember what it was called now. I think it had a horse on the cover? Guess it’s just another lost thing.” A faraway look had come into his eyes.

Before Hange could offer comment, Levi seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. He took up a fresh sheet and, laying it by the side of the first, began to copy out his lines neatly. Hange watched in quiet amazement.

“But look at this improvement already! I’ve never seen such progress before!” They gripped Levi’s shoulder.

“Careful, idiot! You’ll jog me.”

Hange released him and continued their proud observation as Levi dipped the pen in the inkwell. “Your writing is so neat, Levi. In a few more tries it’ll look as professional as newspaper print!”

Levi completed his final line slowly.

Above, approved. Levi.

“No thanks to this mess of a report.” Levi glowered at Hange’s original document. “...but I do owe you for the spelling lesson, at least. Thanks Hange.”

“Hmm.” Hange tapped a finger against their chin. “How about this then? You treat us to dinner next time. Call it payment for my tuition?”

Levi managed a husky laugh as he stood and gathered the papers into a pile.

“Let me think about that, Four Eyes. For now, I’d better go hand these in.”

[tiredassmage]

Okay. The stars might be aligning today. Something might be working out in my favor and, perhaps, I can finally bring y'all in on. the absolute shenanigans that have finally taken shape between Alucren and Tyr.

Incredibly strong urge to ID him as 'the bastard man in question,' but. look, he is. I wouldn't exactly be wrong.

Anyway, in an attempt to be brief, Alucren is recruited to Imperial Intelligence when the class story's already kicked off. He's maybe three years older than Tyr and I need to establish now that that does not mean he's the older sibling. This will make sense in a minute. Perhaps.

So, he's designated Cipher Eleven and, largely, he knows Tyr by reputation as Cipher Nine, but they don't. really interact directly until they're some of the limited survivors of ImpIntel's fallout and Alucren becomes Tyr's Class-A Nuisance in Sith Intelligence. Eleven fucks with Nine because somebody's gotta see the guy loosen up, he argues. Which is hilarious because out of the two of them, Alucren is the one with the largely unbending loyalty to the Empire and the Sith.

[Everyone be thankful he wasn't the main subject of the Imperial Agent storyline. I don't think he'd survive the winter. Definitely not with his pretty aviator sunglasses in-tact about the galaxy and how it works, at least.]

The code I've cracked about this is that it is a largely one-sided mess fueled mostly by a lot of insecurities on Alucren's part. He's the only son of four children, and as loving as that family set up was, he still feels a responsibility to his family's name and legacy [and they have quite a long one in service to Imperial domestic interests; sidebar, Alucren's kind of a walking encyclopedia of Imperial history because of this. Let him take you on a museum date and tell you historical fun facts. Enrichment!]

And Nine has a whopping reputation as being one of the best Ciphers Imperial Intelligence ever trained. Of course, Alucren isn't... in on how much that also essentially turned Tyr's life inside out and wrung it out like a dish towel, but, hey! Details! And Alucren is, in a word, stubborn. And maybe a little competitive. And not all that certain of his own position in the service.

So, what's a guy to do but develop a homoerotic, one-sided rivalry with his essentially boss given Tyr's sort of right-hand man status to Lana? It's totally straight to think, "yeah, bet if I kissed him, that'd shut him up," right? Right! According to Alucren.

[oh honey you got a big storm coming, son]

Tyr is, largely, either willfully or just blatantly kinda... not on the same page about this. At least in Sith Intelligence. Alucren's whole attitude bit is a little grating, but Tyr's a professional and. mostly can afford to set aside the inconvenience of dealing with Alucren's smartassery to get their respective jobs done.

And then, in really short summary, the plot keeps happening. Alucren may or may not develop a bit of a crush on a Sith he starts serving [a smoking hot certain Wrath of the Emperor belonging to @hyrohkaah] (congratulations on the bisexuality Alucren!!!). It takes. a while for Alucren to really sus any of this whole Deal out about himself because he's very image-oriented. He has a Presentation to maintain about himself. Luckily for him, Tyr's a perceptive little shit and. eventually also not above throwing some of his stupid shenanigans back at his face.

Ultimately, there isn't any romantic attraction between these two fools, but Alucren still likes to take Tyr's patience and control for a spin around the block for the thrills and Tyr occasionally yanks back just as hard for the amusement. Sometimes this looks a lot more like indignant siblings arguing over their LegoCity build that's taken up the basement floor and sometimes it means are they flirting or fighting and the answer is yes.

And I'm also going to say Alucren's loyalty becomes... a lot more interesting for that sort of healed relationship between him and Tyr. :3 Alucren's a man that will always call the Empire home, so he'll probably end up serving it the rest of his life. But he also knows Nine is not a man to do anything by halves, and he does nothing without extremely good reason. And it'd just be a shame if I made them confront the possibility of shooting at each other. I mean. >.>

Spoiler alert: Alucren's probably not anywhere near as certain of his ability to follow through with that threat as he'd like to be. It'd surprise both of them, honestly. But you didn't hear that from me.

Anyway. He's a bit of a loser, actually, and I love him. Insultingly and affectionately. He's just.... a little like my pathetically sopping wet greasy alley rat. Unfortunately, he's adorable. And if someone punched him, he'd probably still deserve it.

And that, my friends, is the insane Tom & Jerry shit that has consumed me in the last two weeks or so about Alucren and Tyr. I'd usually say thanks for coming to my TED Talk, but this man's ego is already the broadside of a Destroyer in size and we just don't need to encourage that.

[enolacola]

I’ve been thinking. I don’t want Black Clover to end with Asta just being handed title of Wizard King.

I want Asta and Yuno to fight each other.

Like, I want them to stand as the people decide who’s the Wizard King. And when they can’t decide, I want Yuno to say, “we’ll just fight for the title”.

Everyone is confused. Asta’s like, “hell yeah, let’s go” and Yami immediately understands.

So then they go outside and begin to fight it out. And they don’t hold back, they go full on out. They move place to place, destroying buildings, the captains are doing their best to save people and promising to rebuild the villages destroyed.

Meanwhile, the people are excited and cheering on who they want to win. Yuno tells Marx to broadcast the fight so Marx goes to broadcast it.

Asta and Yuno are still brawling it out with crazed smiles on their faces. They don’t say anything. They don’t head anything. They don’t feel anything. They’re just focused on the fight and only the fight.

Eventually, the fight makes it to Hage village but neither of them realizes it. The two proceed to use their final attack which settles the match.

No one knows what’s going on, not even Asta or Yuno. But when they come back to their senses, they’re lying down on the bed where they used to sleep when they were kids.

The church is completely gone save the bed. Asta and Yuno are watching the sun rise. Asta asks if they should continue. Yuno says that he’s out of magic. Asta asks what he means and Yuno says,

“Congratulations, Asta, you’ve won the fight,”

Asta looks at Yuno with shock before looking at the sun. He calls out to Yuno and says,

“Happy birthday, Yuno,”

It’s the fourth of October, where they were both abandoned and was the start of their legend. And now, it was the end.

Both of them know this and just begin laughing. Slowly, the church comes to them. Then the Black Bulls/Golden Dawn. Then the other Magic Knights. Eventually, everyone surrounds around the two who are grinning like idiots.

The first to get up is Yuno. He extends his to Asta and says,

“Come on, Wizard King Asta, we gotta go and celebrate,”

Asta then grabs his hand and gets up. They both stand before each other for a few seconds before they fist bump each other and say,

“Our journey has finished!”

And that’s the end of Black Clover for you.

That could happen or after Asta becomes the Wizard King and Yuno becomes the Spade King, Yuno tells Asta they still have to settle who’s stronger. Same shit happens and Asta wins and that’s the end of Black Clover. I really hope something like this happens. And it better not happen in one chapter. I expect 200 pages worth of fighting. Even if it takes Tabata a year to complete it, I will wait.

[grandpasorchard]

Why finding the right person takes time and effort.

You gotta know yourself, right? You already do, you just need to write to your self, your dream career, dream home, and dream life. Some of it might change, but you'd be surprised how much it doesn't. Now you need to write down what you want to give to a mate, and what you want to recieve, and make a third colomn, what you want to share, at the top of that needs to be, the same kind of place to live, and same lifestyle you want. A fourth colomn needs to say, Things I dont want to Share. If you dont have anything in that colomn, you are not yet honest with your self. Some people do not want to share their money, or their fame, or road time. Some people dont want to share their mate/spouse. That one is a healthy thing to not share, as long as its not taken too far, like keeping them from making friends. Trust is not something you build, trust is something that the other person shows you over a year. If someone acts fishy or callus or runs over you, they are telling you, "I come first, you can't trust me.".

So you see, finding someone takes time enough for them to show you who they really are, how mature, how selfish, and how much they can be trusted, and how reliable they are. If you don't share the same ideas of a great life, you both will be crushing each others' dreams.

Some of you are so independent and opposed to owning and being owned that marriage is not really your cup of tea. You need good friends you know well. Don't get married just because everyone thinks they have to. Its only good when its real and each person is owned by the other equally, and they share a common dream, and have trust and also, very importantly, like each other. Hormones can make you love someone you actually dont like!

To find someone takes effort, you have to go where they are, ski slopes, antique stores, libraries, writer meet ups, poetry readings, theater classes, painting exhibits, dance clubs, if you actually like that, farmer markets, garden clubs, science fiction clubs, gamer parties etc. What ever fits your dream life needs to fit theirs too.

And be cautious, as always. And look for one other thing or things, what they are already married to...

Its amazing the things people can be married to and not truly realize it. They can be married to gaming, religious fighting, their art, their ex's, their parents, their cars, their free time, their ego, their fame, their fear, their anger, their vengence on a parent placed on you, their loss, seeking a mom or dad's love through you, something that takes decades to grow out of, but usually, they need couselling and a mother or father to adopt them as a friend. People can be married to greed, selfishness, ie themselves, to addictions... Addictions can hide pain and soothe it at the same time. Sex addictions come from habit or need for love, or need for excitement, the last is hard to trust, if a sex addiction goes past the screen or page into the real world, it means they are addicted to excitement, and they are not ready to be owned. Besides chemicals, which mainly numb you, the greatest addiction is gaming. The world has pushed people into cardboard boxes and nearly slave labor just to survive, gaming is a place where you achieve and win and build, why would it not be addicting right now?

It is not a safe world, but little by little, you can find friends and build a life together and have each others backs, and eventually find a dream mate. I pray you are blessed in this endevor, because loneliness kills you.

[x-lynx-x]

lynx log #2

i wandered into jimmys room, and it was now snowing!! like how there was leaves everywhere in victors room, theres now snow in jimmys(i think it had something to do with nicole waking up, cuz jimmys room kinda looked like hers....)we sat on the bed for a bit n they were having trouble talking, so i thought i'd read a wolvie comic to help get their voice back >:[ theres a lot of comics on our desk that havent been put away yet, so i chose this one cuz it kinda looks like jimmy on the cover.....

so i was reading it(a lot of the panels look a lot like jimmy!!facial recognition stuff) and uhm. this page made me realize something.

nothin special on the page, just was the one i realized on. we're been thinkin a lot lately on if we have a primary soul, n who it might be! cuz everyone seems to think theyre the real soul....but its probably jimmy ): we get a lot of messages thru media n we gotta out them together like puzzle pieces. a message we got a couple years ago(but was reminded of today cuz someone liked one of our old posts abt it) was for a character named church. SO a scientist guy made a clone of his consciousness called epsilon, n put epsilon thru a bunch of simulated trauma, which then split him into other consciousness (like us!) n church was a direct clone of epsilon who didnt remember any of the trauma. and also didnt know abt the experiment!! then eventually he found all the other consciousnesses and epsilon n him fused together n he remembered EVERYTHING!! we've had the word epsilon associated with memories ever since '^' and theres a comic where a guy named epsilon red starts giving wolvie his memories back too!!

we've known abt the experiment since we were uhmmm maybe 11? or 10? we've been gettin hints for awhiilleeee but our recent journey in remembering all of eachother again feels similar to the journey church went on....oh yea! context -> me n my system used to know eachother when we were younger, but around age 15 we all got stuck together n forgot ): but in the past month we've been slowly separating n remembering eachother again!! it was a prophecy for vic n victor(similar but 2 different guys hehe) to spend our bday with jimmy, n it thankfully happened!!! we were worried abt there being a big fight that day(since sabes n wolvie usually fight on that day) n well....that turned out to be true too v_v they forgot how often they fought n there was a fight that morning n victor ended up also fighting with tiff(another member) during the day too(the problem was that jimmy didnt believe either of them were real, n victor even really tried proving himself by fronting for a several days before they remembered eachother! he was searching really hard for jimmy, just like jimmy had been all those years he couldnt remember him...). but that day ended good, so thats all settled now :3 except for the nicole fighting today lol oops.

anywayyyyy back to the story!! after i told jimmy abt this theory, he started changing more into logan(the one in the comic) and vic got concerned and came over to our room. he was crying and didnt know why ): he looked similar to the comic too.

vic held logan for a bit....uhmmm what did we talk about hmm.......OH

right!!!the experiment!!!!so this comic is about how they layer a fake memory over top of real ones, so it implies that sabes n fox were also being experimented on like X was!! so in our case, maybe we're not fake split offs, but rather we're all connected somehow. (we have a member whos name means 'birth of X' btw!!)

that was one of our theories at age 13, that all of us were sleeping in the same lab somewhere. but maybe we knew eachother too.....

the big question is -> whos helping us wake up?

woahhhh cliffhanger :o stay tuned for more fun lynx adventures!!!!!✨✨

[chevelleneech]

One, I realized after the fact the tags I read were reblogged onto your post, not yours, but I’m glad we’re on the same page regardless!

Two, I meant to say, “hopefully people pick up on reading context between the lines.” Don’t know how I typo’d so badly, lol.

Three, Yes! Qimir isn’t a good guy at all. He didn’t have to kill a child, he could have knocked her out. She saw him for all of three seconds. He also didn’t have to go after Mae. She didn’t know his face, and he could have made a new mask. He chose to because that’s what he chooses to do. Death over negotiation, which is funny and completely insane, but I gotta respect his commitment.

That said, him being remorseless in his killings, doesn’t mean he is unjustified, technically. Not even the Jedi stand by and let themselves get killed. They attack when provoked, so why wouldn’t Qimir do the same? Which leads me to another thing that has me questioning why people see him as one dimensional, and that’s his honesty.

His words in ep6 completely matched his actions in ep5, so why are people having trouble understating he is manipulation Osha, yet he’s using the truth to do so? He only evaded one question, which was who gave him his scar, but other than that… what was a lie? The Jedi did rush him first. Yord did forego their ten year friendship and attempt to arrest her, then proceeded to try and tell Sol she was guilty when Sol second guessed. She was going to have a one sided bond with Jecki in the future, which was proven by how her friendship with Yord went, because Jecki was on the path to being a great Jedi and to be that she would have eventually let go of her personal/emotional attachments. Per the Jedi philosophy.

Now, does any of that being true means he himself needs to be on the Dark Side? Not at all. He’s still choosing to be on the opposing side. He’s still choosing to kill when he could maim and walk away, but… where’s the fun in that, when the Jedi are technically an oppressive order? Much like what we saw on Brendok. Perhaps they didn’t intend to kill everyone, but that doesn’t mean them showing up and demanding the witches children was right. (Unless of course, the witches did some crazy shit and the Jedi thought they were saving the girls.)

Anyway, yeah! Qimir is a baddie in both senses of the word, but I really don’t think he’s the big big bad. He’s a problem and a headache and will turn Osha and likely eventually become a notorious name who fucks shit up before dying, but right now he seems to be in defense mode at all times, and won’t bend for anybody.

(Except Osha. He’s gonna bend for her one day, and that’s what’s gonna get him killed. Or severely injured, and we’ll get to see the Jedi realize she’s his weakness.)

Hi! I just read your tags again, after my loooong reblog, lol, and wanted to say I also have been pointing out how not much of a bloodthirsty killer Qimir is.

It might come across as trying to excuse his actions, but he really did only kill the people who tried to kill him first. With the exception of Mae, who he said he’d kill because she betrayed him. But he walked away from Yord, Sol, and Jecki when he could have killed them. He even only tried to kill Osha after she shot him with the blaster, and he swung on her when she surprised him from behind during battle. But before that, he literally tossed her out of the way of the fight.

Qimir has yet to kill or attack someone for no reason, and when presented with leaving people alive or killing them… he left them alive. So ep7 and 8 will be very interesting, because hopefully we get his backstory and hopefully people pick up on life of the context between the lines.

YES. Yes, yes. Finally someone who points this out. I felt like I was going insane. It doesn't justify it, but he only killed Jecki and Yord once his mask was broken, and his hand was forced. He was alright with letting them go beforehand. I don't think it's bold to say his intentions were not to massacre those Jedi that night, it was merely a bonus. Lol. And even then, his closing statement of "What extraordinary beings we are. Even in the revelation of our triumph, you see the depth of our despair." showed that he didn't find the pleasure he likely assumed that would give him.

So while he clearly has no qualms with the act of killing; writing him off as a bloodthirsty killer to me is crazy. He is more of a Count Dooku, than a Maul to me in that case. ( although he does definitely have similarities to the latter, in other cases, but I digress. ).

[bondsmagii]

do you have any tips/advice for beating internet addiction? I'm tired of dicking around on the same 3 websites for 15 hours a day and I need my life back. i miss reading!

YES I do!! unfortunately it sounds very obvious and very shit. but it is the tried and tested proven way to do it, and contrary to what I usually say -- that your mileage may vary because everyone is different -- I find that with shit like this there's only one way to do it.

you gotta just go cold fucking turkey, man.

I used to genuinely be addicted to the internet. I would spend at minimum 12 hours a day online. sometimes, I could spent up to 20 hours online, staring at the same handful of websites, refreshing endlessly, and not even wanting to be there. but I couldn't do anything else, because I would get bored so easily, or there was just nothing that I wanted to do. it was an endless cycle.

internet addiction works loosely like this:

you find yourself with not much to do, either because there just isn't anything to do (you're stuck at home in a boring place, for example) or you don't have the ability to do what you want to do (you have an illness or disability that makes it difficult to do certain things, for another example)

the internet at first is your friend, because it gives you access to things you wouldn't usually have, and at first this is entertaining and beneficial

you start spending more time online

slowly you get used to the constant gratification of refreshing and finding new content

as you get used to this, your attention span lowers, and you start demanding more content, faster

eventually you reach the point where you cannot refresh fast enough to keep yourself entertained; content is not being created fast enough for you

your attention span is so destroyed that you cannot even commit to going hunting for new content -- this demands too much attention and focus

you end up on the same sites, refreshing constantly, but with no attention to do anything else.

so, you end up in a fair bit of trouble. like all addictions, you're eventually going to reach the point where you max out. your body can't take anymore. in this case, your attention span has been destroyed. this makes it very difficult to fathom ever doing anything that doesn't provide immediate entertainment, but! good news. your attention span can be rebuilt.

a lot of people don't realise this. your attention span is not a finite resource that siphons off. it's a muscle that atrophies. your brain wants to be entertained, and while it will go for instant gratification first -- this is low effort and more immediately satisfying -- what it prefers are things that hold your attention for a long time, and are gratifying and time-consuming. it wants to get its money's worth, basically. and you can re-train yourself to enjoy these longer, slow-burn tasks.

but to do this you have to kick the habit. you have to reset. and the only way to effectively do this is to go cold turkey. I'm talking two weeks of extremely limited screen time, minimum. if you cannot trust yourself to check briefly after waking up and before bed and nothing else, then you must do no screen time. in fact, I'd recommend that anyway. do not look at social media at all. do not visit these websites. completely cut yourself off from all instant gratification: no social media, no instant messaging, nothing. if you have to use the internet for school or work, visit only those sites that you need and no more. block other sites if you have to. just do not engage.

the first while is going to suck. you are going to be bored, and restless, and miserable, and probably genuinely depressed. it's fine, it's normal, but you must not give in to it. it's good. it means it's working. you have to ride through it, and start forcing yourself to do other things. read a few pages of a book. go out on a walk. make something nice to eat. do some art. hell, clean. even if the task sucks, do anything that is not going online. do this every day, multiple times. keep yourself busy. force yourself to do things for a set amount of time. be a little harsh with yourself -- you are not going to restore your attention span if you do not push yourself a little. your brain is going to be throwing a fit demanding something more easily entertaining, and you have to be the responsible one and say no. and it really will suck.

eventually, though, it's going to get easier. cold turkey is the biggest shock; once you make it through, and prove there are other ways to fill your day, you have to remain committed. stay offline as long as you can. if you really must check, set a time and do not exceed it. prioritise all offline activities first, and only go online if you have spare time. keep committed to the other things. you will find that gradually, the constant refreshing and the sheer nothing that you find online is not as satisfying. you'll want to seek out longer, more fulfilling things. you'll want to finish that book you're reading. you'll want to work more on your art. you'll want to go out, or watch a documentary, or meet with friends, or organise the junk in your bedroom, or whatever it is. you'll be feeling calmer, and more focused, and generally less annoyed and stressed out. you'll probably start to regard a lot of what goes on online as kind of ridiculous. your priorities will reset. and from there it will only get easier and more enjoyable.

like I said, from 12-20 hours a day, I've got my online time down to 30 minutes in the week, if that. on weekends I let myself dick around more -- but only if I want to. there are whole weekends where I don't even turn on my laptop. and man, is it preferable. this shit is reversible, and I also say this as somebody with ADHD. so even if you have that working against you, I promise you it's still possible. you just have to be prepared to suffer for a while, but sometimes suffering isn't a bad thing. sometimes it's very fucking necessary.

tl;dr you get addicted because your brain gets used to quick and constant entertainment. this is reversable. go cold turkey and do things that require more time and focus for a couple of weeks, and then limit your social media time forever. at first it will suck but eventually you will literally realise how dumb it is and stop missing it.

[eyesanddragons]

Okay I want to elaborate on something I’ve been thinking about, since I talk a lot a lot about character meta (specifically Winter Meta and Arc 2 as a whole really) and I want to dive into something that bothers me a lot about this book series.

There’s a phenomenon really prevalent in the books, and somewhat in fandom that I call the Good Victim/Bad Victim Dichotomy (A name I think I got from a Tv Tropes Page but ignoring that for a moment-) where characters who have certain traits are treated as “bad victims” or good victims, and usually “bad victims” are argumentative, angry, mean, and downright horrible at times, while “good vicitims” are nice, shy, and are so sad they can’t do anything bad.

It’s a phenomenon that’s incredibly present in these books, Darkstalker and Whiteout are actually really “good” examples of this, Darkstalker, who is ambitious and often times gets argues with his abusive father is controlling and spiteful, is painted as a inherently evil dragon who becomes a genocidal controlling power-hungry animus who wants to take over the world, who eventually gets mind-wiped and gets turned into an “innocent pure child” while Whiteout, his quiet, nice, and slightly quirky sister is portrayed as a innocent dragon who is pure and good and acts as a dragon Darkstalker can use to “pet the dog” if you will, and Whiteout is given a “happy ending” where she runs away with Thoughtful while Darkstalker is sealed in a mountain for a 1000 years when he’s like 15.

Now while Darkstalker and Whiteout is the most notable example of this, this is a recurring idea in the books.

For another example, Winter is a character who’s a bit of racist at the start, and is mean, angry, and argumentative who grew up as a prince in a terribly abusive family while Qibli is a nice, friendly, very mischievous, dragon who grew up in a crime den with a terribly assume family. Both are victims who grew up in terrible abusive households, but Qibli gets the girl and a happy life with his friends standing beside his queen, but Winter gets exiled and is more or less isolated from all the people he knew, and then one of his friend’s proceed to tell him to his face that they trust him to be loyal but not with important information that pertains to Darkstalker, the dragon that tried to kill his entire kingdom and killed his aunt, which is treated as a “you gotta earn out trust back” moment even though this is incredibly unfair from Winter’s perspective.

There’s also Turtle and Anemone, Anemone, the mean, believed she was better than everyone, entitled, and also very willing to do murder in Talons Of Power, animus dragon was potrayed as bad for, well wanting to do murder, which yeah, fair enough, but also for feeling angry about her abusive mother who used her as a weapon her entire life, and that said her murder-willingness comes from the (false) belief that she’s believed since she was a child that she will become evil no matter what, while Turtle, a shy, sad, lonely kid is treated as good for accepting his abusive and neglectful mother and less likely to become evil compared to Anemone, and the books end with, first of all the gang being “relieved” that Anemone actually isn’t evil using the soul reader, a reader she checks every day to make sure she doesn’t become more evil, and getting an animus enchanted object that can “remove” her thoughts of “superiority”, while Turtle, who get’s the same object, is still rewarded with the knowledge that he’s not evil at all and becomes more confident with himself while his sister is worried about her morality every day

I can list even more, like the entire false Dragonets of Prophecy, for example, where Fatespeaker is considered better than any of them because she’s nice!

And look, I’m not saying these dragons didn’t do bad things, sometimes they did incredibly horrid things Anemone tried to murder her family, Darkstalker did try (and somewhat succeeded) committing genocide, Winter was racist at the start and was continuously mean, pushy, and rude with people, Most of the False DoD were mean and angry and constantly hurting each other.

But Wings Of Fire, at large, tends to play into the idea that there is a “good victim” and a “bad victim” which is a problem, speaking from someone who could of been classified as a “bad victim” years ago mistakes have been made and have to be fixed, I won’t argue with that, but Wings of Fire often times makes these conflicts more morally simple than they should be, which, isn’t good, Winter and Anemone are great examples of characters who have been pushed to there limit and want an out, there ugly, but there incredibly relatable and, I’ve said this a lot on other accounts, important, media tends to portray trauma in a sanitized, aesthetically pleasing way, and while I would like to say that shy, sad, characters who want to be good, are still valuable portrayals of trauma, and not inherently bad, it’s more likable to see a character who mopes and cries for three hours thinking about the pain they endured, than a character who is rude and hateful and expressing all that trauma in such a way that it hurts the people around them. But both portrayals are incredibly valuable. And the fandom is not safe from this! Actually usually you find this stuff in fandom, fandom will take a character’s worst traits and make them even worse, make it their main personality even though we have hundreds of words that show there way more complex then that, or treat them like an innocent party who can do no wrong, and I feel like both weakens there overall character.

So yeah, I really dislike how characters with trauma are portrayed in WoF, I think it’s done poorly which is upsetting for multiple reasons, and that’s why I write Meta posts like these (like my Winter Martydom post I want you to check out cause I think I wrote it well.)

Yeah, that’s it.

[1kook]

skirt chasers — drabble iv

THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE ! SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_- RATING m (18+) WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf 

NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3

He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he’s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…” 

 Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane. 

 Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot. 

He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form. 

It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds. 

They were his favorite. 

Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this. 

God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month. 

But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity. 

As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings. 

He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream. 

But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. 

Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping. 

He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since! 

Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn’t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind. 

So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck. 

Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!

It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go. 

He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen. 

But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins. 

He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?” 

“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world. 

You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.” 

He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.” 

You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here. 

“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action. 

“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes. 

“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high. 

You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time. 

Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down. 

You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.” 

Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now. 

He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”

You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly. 

A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist. 

“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy. 

Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can. 

And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck. 

“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”

He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer. 

“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question. 

You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. 

“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.” 

You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides. 

A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.  

He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. “Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry. 

“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes. 

As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be. 

Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest. 

He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly. 

Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?” 

He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign. 

He strikes while the iron is still hot. 

It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion. 

Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort. 

“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months. 

However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it. 

Kinda. 

Probably. 

Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over. 

He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“

“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing. 

“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”

“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders. 

If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off. 

And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy. 

“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face. 

The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing. 

Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting. 

(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.) 

One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you. 

He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone. 

Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more. 

You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs. 

Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it. 

And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him. 

It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top. 

Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror. 

He’s never seen you like this before. 

Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life. 

He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips. 

And then something unforgivable happens. 

Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information. 

Your hand. 

The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness. 

Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face. 

He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant. 

Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.” 

It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.” 

You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”

“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him. 

“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.

A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him. 

Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip. 

You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now. 

The sympathy doesn’t last long.  

Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams. 

Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand. 

But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this. 

“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches. 

There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are. 

Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out. 

“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him. 

You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead. 

It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.” 

He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands. 

“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!) 

Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”

Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead. 

“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises. 

It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock. 

Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon. 

He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time. 

When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.” 

A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago. 

His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap. 

There was never a choice.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[hoodieofholland]

Hi if possible could you write a image where the reader isn’t famous but is dating Tom, he goes lives on Instagram and starts letting fans join and ask him a questions. You get picked to join and both of you have to try and keep a straight face without giving it away.🙂 doesn’t have to be exactly this is obviously just whatever you feel like! Thank you💕

tom+instagram here we go :)

Hope you like it!!

Warnings: language, that's all :)

"What are you doing?”, you ask your boyfriend through the phone, pressed between your ears and shoulder, while you wandered around the house to get some tasks done. There were noises in the other side of the call, and you could distinguish Harrison’s voice.

“Nothin’, just setting things up for my live. Harrison’s been helping me, you know how I suck at this whole Instagram thing”, he explains, humming as he scrolled through his phone, you on speaker.

You giggle, “I know it pretty well. Think I’m gonna just take a rest and watch you struggling online”.

“Ha-ha, very funny, girlfriend”, he puffs, but you can almost hear his smile behind that sarcastic tone. “But I’d appreciate if you showed up. Who knows, I could just introduce you to all of my fans”.

You take in a sharp breath, contemplating if that was simply a joke or if there was a true desire behind that statement. You chew on your lips and keep silence.

The two of you have been in a relationship for almost one and half an year now, but you managed - only God knows how - to keep discreet about it, keeping it a secret. For his friends, Tom had an amazing girlfriend, whom everyone pretty much appreciated spending time with. For the rest of the world, Tom was a single, charmer and desired young Hollywood actor.

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep you his little secret. It was pretty much the opposite, actually. After your first six months together, Tom had tried to convince you to reveal your relationship, too tired of not being able to show off your love outside the comfort of his house. But you wasn’t willing to do that just yet. And after one and a half year, there you were, still afraid of how things might end up if you told them the truth.

You loved Tom, and you loved the fact the he was such a talented, hardworking man, but the fact that he was also a Hollywood star, known in the whole world, made you feel cornered. You didn’t want people to judge your relationship, to judge you or to give your relationship some kind of approval. You just wasn’t ready to give up your anonymity and become Tom Holland’s girlfriend.

Things were just perfect the way they were. You wanted it to stay like that for a little more time.

But you knew the day would eventually come. It was hard to not be spotted in the street with Tom by your side. You’d never show up in an event together, always making sure to only hold hands or show affection when behind four walls, only when you were pretty sure there was no paparazzi following him. You didn’t like that neither. You wanted to act normal, to have nice date nights with him, to walk outside in summer with Tessa. You just wanted to be who you were with him inside his or your house.

“I was- I was kidding, love”, he said sheepishly, and you could sense the nervousness on his voice, chuckling slightly to hide it from you. “It would be dumb, right?”

You swallow hard. “Uh- no. No, it’s fine. I mean, I’m not ready yet, but it’s alright. I know you were joking”. You curse yourself for being so dramatic about it, but you couldn’t help it. “So, when is it starting?”

“In about five minutes actually. I gotta go now, okay?”

“Yeah”, you smile tightly. “Okay, gonna watch here. Love ya”.

“Love you, darling”.

You both hang up and you sit on the edge of your bed, laying down and closing your eyes, puffing your cheeks out and rubbing your temples. “Damn it”.

Before you can call him back and tell him you were sorry over it, you sit properly on your bed and open your Instagram app, searching for him. After those exact five minutes, he was going live. You smile at the picture of him on your screen. He looked handsome, as always, but added up to the fact that he was far away, in Atlanta, while shooting Spider-Man 3.

You watch as he explains what he was going to do in his live, waving to Harrison right behind him, distracted on his own phone, saying that he was there as a support team. You laugh at how clueless he is. He starts to pick fans to join live and ask him questions. You were pretty surprised that he was allowed to do that, not giving away any spoiler, but he managed it after all.

You were having fun watching him struggle to say some usernames, and kinda surprised at how bold some comments on the bottom of your screen were. He’s single, remember?, you think to yourself and sigh frustrated. You could just go on and tell everybody, put an end to this whole situation during interviews, where Tom was always questioned about his love life and got uncomfortable about it, where you were upset for not being able to tell them to stop shipping him with girls he wasn't interested in, cause he was with you and you only.

But instead, you just sat there, watching your gorgeous boyfriend smiling sheepishly at the camera while a fan asked him about some photos that were taken of him and his co-star a while ago. He shrugged it off and told her they were just friends, but the comments made it very clear they weren't buying it.

"Alright, gonna pick another one, lemme see..."

You get yourself distracted by the concentrated face he put on, a small wrinkle between his brows, and then it happened.

All of a sudden, you see yourself on the screen, half of it filled with Tom's video, just like the previous fan. Your eyes go wide as soon as you realize you're going live with Tom.

"Shit!" He curse immediately, eyes bugging out and looking for something on his screen to take you out of it. "Sorry, I think I just tapped the wrong thing- fuck, how do I-?"

You're startled, looking at his agitated movements as he waves to Harrison desperately, and you try to think about what to do while being completely dumbfounded with the comments going on. Most of them were laughing at the fact that Tom kept being clueless with Instagram, but some of them actually commenting about you.

She's so pretty!!

Omg i think i saw her with tom somewhere

Is she the girl that was at the ffr set and no one new about??

You are about to close your app and leave them all behind, but you can't seem to be able to take your eyes off of the screen. A thought is stuck in your mind, where those people could actually know you, talk to you, and this shouldn't be so hard.

Tom wanted it. He wanted to show the world that you were his girl, wanted to go places with you and not need a whole scheme to protect you from camera lenses.

So instead of just stepping out of this, you decided to wave your hand at them, sit on your bed a little straighter and smile.

"Hey, Tom", you said, leaving it up to him if he wanted to say it now or not. He looked at you with wide eyes, Harrison by his side, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

"Hey, uh, y/u/n" he tried to play it cool, not so sure about what he wanted to do. "Nice user". And just like that, the two of you played along as two complete strangers for a whole ten minutes, until you said your goodbyes and Tom were left alone to end his live.

You felt incredibly happy with the nice comments and about how easy it was for you to make an appearance for the first time. It wasn't like you had just told them the truth, but it was something, and you felt more comfortable about it now.

Tom called you to a video call as soon as he ended the live, equally amazed by how this turned out. He apologized for bringing you to it, and you told him it was fine, that you even liked showing up.

"I think... I think that I'm ready", you said, biting your lips nervously. "I mean, if you are too".

He went silent for a few seconds before saying. "Wow. Really? Yeah, I mean, I'm more than ready. It doesn't have to be like an announcement, we could just, I don't know, go out and just wait till they-"

"Guys!" You heard Harrison shout somewhere in Tom's living room.

Tom turned his head to look at something Haz was showing and the blonde quickly made his way to appear on your screen.

On his phone there was a page with headline: Tom Holland goes live and fans spot his supposed girlfriend, y/n y/l/n.

Harrison scrolled through the page, where a lot of evidences of you and Tom being together were collected, when both of you were spotted in the same places at the same time or even one of you at Far From Home's set.

"Uh, so..." Tom twisted his nose. "I don't think we'll need to tell them anymore".

********

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[ghoste-catte]

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Body Swap HC (Request) Batboys x reader (Gender N.)

Dick Grayson:

Suddenly Dick just wakes up

In some lavish hotel that happens to be in the same place as where you’re touring 

there’s a massive oh shit moment and then it’s like OH SHIT IM A SUPER STAR TODAY 

that totally doesn’t go to his head at all for a few seconds and then he realizes that he CANNOT ruin your reputation at all at this point 

so he tries to start rewatching the clips of your performances to learn the choreography 

that's when you wake up without an alarm panicked and freaking out 

WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING 

Jason comes running into the room and you scream covering yourself 

“Y/N?!?”

“Wait how’d you know?” 

“Dick screeches not yells.” 

“So you’re saying I’m more of a man that- never mind, how the hell do we fix this before my show?” 

You’re taken down to the cave where the forces of Constantine and Zatanna are called 

they try for hours and hours so that you’re able to get to your body again 

That's when they find that they need the two of you together 

So Constantine zaps Dick from New York to Gotham to finish this quickly 

“What the fuck is happeni- on hey me- I mean.... Y/N... Right?”

“Yeah.”

So you finally have it fixed and you’re back to the stadium right as you’re coming on

“Y/N WAIT!” 

Z comes and basically transforms you into your stage clothes and you run up to the stage for your performance right on time 

You do find however that Dick was prancing and walking around in costumes dancing to pop music 

Jason Todd:

What the fuck

He wakes up in your apartment suddenly and doesn’t remember anything that happened the night before

Which isn’t normal at all considering he typically always remember the patrol at least

What’s more startling is when he can’t find you

In your own apartment?

He walks into the bathroom and it all makes .... less sense but like okay now this is why you aren’t here

So now he’s gotta find you and how to fix it

He goes to the cave and the sensors recognize him as you

“Hey Y/N, your swords are here, you left them last night?” Dick came in and handed them to him

“Uh, so where’s Y- Jason? Where’s Jason?”

“Hasn’t woken up yet.”

Well then

Just as Jason is about to head upstairs, he gets a distress signal on your phone

So of course he goes to it cause this can wait since he’s pretty sure it’s not life threatening

So he goes and finds that there’s some people that have issue with you and your line of work

Does he kick their asses just cause he can and has unresolved anger caused by the nights you almost died coming home cause of them

Yes, yes he does

That’s when he gets a call from you on his phone and goes back to the manor to get this sorted out

“Who did this?”

“Former teammate gone rouge. He’s an idiot” you said coming in with a charm to switch the bodies

Once back, Jason’s relieved cause that was weird

Oh he also makes sure you know about the distress signal and all of that

Tim Drake:

This boy wasn’t ready to wake up in Stark Tower

Not at all

No one prepared him for Black Widow coming in and waking him- you up

Uhhhhh “Hey .... ms. Natasha, there’s something wrong

“Ms. Natasha? TIM?”

Uh yeah so that starts the whole issue of trying to find you

He calls you on your phone and you get a call from yourself

On Tim’s phone

Wait a seconnddddd

And then you realize and come running downstairs

“RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON COME HERE NOW”

Idk why Dick gets roped into this he just does

Once everyone’s caught up to speed you have to find Tim so you call him back

“Hey Timmy, where are you right now?”

“Stark Tower. Where are you? Manor I presume?”

“Correct. Don’t move, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” 

You arrive at the tower and are let in by your dad 

Tony leads you to his lab where Tim is in your body still in pajamas 

You’re both in pajamas still but that doesn’t matter 

Your dad has a bit of trouble getting the transformer machine to work so you help him

He finds it weird that you’re switched and wants to change it as fast as possible 

The man finally figures it out as Tim sits back and watches you and your father working this out 

Finally he works it out and you two give your phones back 

You just go back to your room with him and go back to sleep since you two need to be together incase it happens again

That means SLEEP

finally 

I wanna sleep 

Damian Wayne:

You’re a magic user like Zatanna or Constantine 

Basically what happens is Damian keeps up at how magic must not be that bad and difficult and eventually after enough pestering, you let him go through a spell book

Under his breath he tries it and it does work the way that he intended it to

See the spell wasn't supposed to transfer your minds into each other’s bodies

It was just supposed to teleport you to him 

Na man 

It doesn’t work immediately and he decides that he’ll say nothing about this since he doesn’t want you to tease him for not being able to do it 

That is until you suddenly start feeling super strange one night on patrol while you’re out and Damian is training in the cave 

He falls to his knees (same as you) and you’re both switched

Bruce turns around to see Damian (now you) straight struggling and comes over to you

“Uh... B? How’d I get here?”

“Okay which one of the boys are you now?”

“I’m Y/N....?”

“What did Damian do?”

“Probably fucked up one of my spells.” 

Bruce gets into your comm and contacts Damian who is now feeling the repercussions of this spell

You’re already upstairs getting your spell books, trying to find a solution to the problem

You’re not wanting to call Constantine or any of your mentors since you’re pretty sure that this has happened before and you’ve had to fix it 

not with Damian but this kind of thing isn’t new

“Alright genius show me which spell you messed up.” 

Damian comes and huffs next to you still in your body and finds the page in the book

“Ohhhhhh that’s not good.” you throw your head back and grumble 

“Why’d you have to mess up one of the most advanced spells in the book?”

Before Damian can question you, you’re preforming the counter spell of the body swap spell that he preforms 

it drains all of the energy out of you and as soon as you’re finished and the body swap is complete, you’re out of it for the night 

Damian rushes to catch you in case you fall, but you catch your balance on the counter top of the cave

“Now, you wanna not question me when I complain about a spell being difficult now?”

Damian just rolls his eyes and mutters an apology but feels bad as you two walk up the stairs to head to sleep

That’s the last time he tries to undermine magic