#I appreciate people saying 'oh hey what if it's really j+m somewhere in there!' but ah. um. they're just puppets now I think.

[merlindotpdf]

much love to the fan theorists but if i think too much about why Norris and Chester are Like That i'll have to be put down with bear tranquilizers🫶👍

[c00lkidvibes]

Hey new bestie would you do Bucky Barnes for the Soulmate AU A-Z thingy!

Soulmate AU Alphabet: Bucky Barnes

thank you for sending this in! <3 i kinda dipped and switched different storylines, like one has them meeting calmly and one has the Winter Soldier saving her. also i think you’re supposed to pick one and do a oneshot but i did tiny one shots for a lot of them so just keep your imagination running- im not too good at this lol.

a...ging stops at 18 until you find your soulmate so the two of you can grow old together.

Since Bucky was born in like 1917, he’d be really confused as to why he stopped at 18 for such a long time. Most of his friends found their soulmates quickly, all but Steve. But then he met Peggy and they started growing together. But, when the war really started, finding a soulmate was Bucky’s least important priority. Once he became the Winter Soldier, lonely nights in the cold Russian compound forced his mind back into his soulmate.

“Was I ever good enough for a soulmate?”

“They’re probably dead by now, why can’t I just age if they’re dead?”

When you were a little girl, the stigma around finding a soulmate, your one and only, was arguably the “most important thing a woman does in her life”. It made you sick. Once you stopped growing at 18, you were sure you were just going to stay that way forever.

b...ody art (doodles that a person draws on themselves appear on their soulmate’s skin).

You were always drawing on yourself, whether it be absentmindedly doodling in class or distracting yourself from your anxiety.

When Bucky, or perhaps, the Hydra workers see these useless scribbles on his arms and hands, they cover them up. But, when he’s finally alone, or as alone as he can be being in a highly monitored room, he stares at them. After all this time, he thought you didn’t exist. Now he has hope to find you, to find someone.

c...olors (aka the standard soulmate au where the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate and see colors).

For how long Bucky would have to wait to see color, he’d LOVE to finally see something other than two colors. He loves the color of your eyes, because that’s the first color he saw when he met you, his soulmate.

d...amage done to a person also translates into their soulmate’s body (cuts, bruises and all).

Once you turn 18, you start noticing how careless your “soulmate” is. Cuts, bruises, horrible headaches, jolts of electric shock that have you doubled over in pain. You don’t know what your soulmate does, but holy shit do you think he needs a new lifestyle.

e...sp (soulmates can sense one another’s presence and feel each other’s exact emotions even when miles away).

Almost every night, you feel sad when you start to feel your soulmates energy channeling in. Paired up with how hurt he must be feeling, it isn’t long until you start feeling really bad for him.

f...irst words/thoughts your soulmate says/thinks when seeing you are written on your skin.

You’d see him first, in New York. He was getting coffee near a food truck you worked at. Bucky would feel a slight burn on his forearm, and he’d look down and see the words “Wow, he’s really hot.” in small print. Being taken back, he frantically looks around trying to find someone. You witnessing all of this, decide to not to hide. His eyes meet yours, and you feel the slight burn on your arm. “Is that her? Oh my God, she’s gorgeous.” You smile and look back up to see the mystery man walking back toward you.

g...uardian (it is said that the person who saves you from a near-death experience is your soulmate—drowning, car crash, etc.)

He was a ghost. You didn’t know what happened, but now everything was in ruin. All you could hear was ringing and a faint roaring sound of fire. The explosion happened in an instant. He picked you up, and carried you out. Then he sets you down. He would later be asked what was so special about this girl.

“Why, soldat?”

“It felt like I knew her.”

“Wipe him again.”

h...eartbeats (the soulmates share the same heartbeat—when one feels panicked, shocked, etc, the other can feel it too).

Almost constant panic. Why was he so panicked, all the time? When you, or he, felt like this, you decided to start getting into a calm state to try and transfer it to him. You stopped what you were doing, took many deep breaths until you and him felt better. Bucky appreciates this to his grave. It’s what helps him sleep.

i...dentifier (a word or symbol which is imputed to your soulmate is somewhere on your body).

One night, you find a little black star on your left arm. You didn’t pay much mine to it, you didn’t really know what it meant.

The same night, Bucky finds a small zodiac sign print on his wrist. He didn’t spend too much time thinking about it, there were millions of people with this zodiac, and that was no way to narrow it down.

j...uxtaposition (your soulmate is the exact opposite of you, yet you find yourselves complementing one another).

Once you finally meet your soulmate, you couldn’t believe how polar opposite you were. He hated going outdoors, the fear of being recognized was too much to bear for him. He hated how you preferred movies over books. But, when you took him for a walk in Central Park during fall time, he understood. When he read you The Hobbit on rainy nights, you understood.

k...eys and locks are randomly dispersed to soulmates on chains when they are born. when in proximity, the lock and key will act as magnets and bring the two soulmates closer together until the key is placed in the lock and a gratifying click is heard, unlocking the chain.

Almost everyone you knew no longer had the chain. You hated it. It was annoying, always in the way.

Bucky hated his chain too. Multiple agents had tried to cut it busing progressively more intense methods. Each agent walking away with progressively worse injuries.

It wasn’t until years after he found his chain being pulled by an invisible force into a small shoppe in Time Square.

l...ast words your soulmate says are written on your skin, so you do not know it is them until they are gone.

Fortunately, you were able to find your soulmate. On Buckys last day, he grabs your hand and tells you how much he loves you. These words are forever engraved on your arm.

m...arks or stains of the color black are somewhere on your body (palm of your hand, knuckles, knee) until you and your soulmate finally make physical contact. once the mark is touched, it fades to be consistent with the person’s skin color.

Your mark is always covered. So is Bucky’s. It wasn’t like Bucky would ever find his soulmate in the Winter Soldier program. Or at least he thought.

[violetsmoak]

Untitled JayTim WIP

Happy Evil Author Day! 

Here’s a WIP I’ve been considering for a while for a one-shot (I know, shock! A non chapter fic from me? Will wonders never cease!) but haven’t really been giving a good amount of attention to because I’ve been focused on finishing Philtatos and the other fics I already have posted. 

Pairing: JayTim

Rating: M for language, sexual themes (not nsfw tho)

Summary: Years from now, they’ll make up a story about how it really happened. After all, how do a series of autocorrect fails lead to a relationship?

________________________________________________________________

T: Wanna bang?

Jason stares at his phone for a full ten seconds trying to connect the words to the contact name.

Logically he knows Tim probably meant ‘hang’, since they have been doing that more often lately. Something about brunch and commiserating over Alfred’s waffles established a tenuous friendship that’s continued in the form of intel sharing and the occasional team-up on cases when they both happen to be in Gotham at the same time.

The relationship is about at the level of shooting each other the occasional meme or gif via text, and ‘hey, let’s grab a chili dog but you’re paying, Mr. Moneybags’. Even if Jason were inclined toward trying to get into his replacement’s pants—which, he’s not thank you very much even if he recognizes as a completely objective equal-opportunity appreciator of the human body that Tim Drake grew up hot—he also knows that Tim Drake is depressingly straight.

So, their occasional meetups have been nothing but casual, family friendly (for this Family, anyhow) encounters with no hidden subtext or intent behind them.

(At least he’s 87% sure, because Tim’s the kind of awkward pretty or pretty awkward that sends out flirt signals without even realizing it.)

In any case, it’s probably the most functional relationship Jason’s ever had with another Robin.

Which is why he’s fairly sure that this text is one of those autocorrect fails.

And he could let it go.

But he’s Jason Todd, and when has he ever let anything go?

J: Depends. Are you going to buy me dinner first, or is this just a casual booty call?

He goes back to cleaning and checking his weapons on his kitchen table, more out of habit than actually needing to. He was taught the fine art of weapon maintenance by the most paranoid man in the world, his guns never jam.

His eyes catch a flicker on his screen and he glances over, watching the three dots indicating someone typing for barely a blink. And then,

T: Omg

T: Shit I meant hang. Autocorrect.

Jason grins, imagining the face Tim must be making, and decides mocking him is more fun than unnecessary gun polishing.

J: Should I bring anything? Condom? Lube?

J: Vibrator?

J: Ball gag?

T: Wtf? No!

J: Also, you’re clean, right? Only B really drilled the safe sex talk into me so

T: Oh my god Jason why are you like this

J: Would it be your first time?

J: Because I’m not sure I should be the one to take your v-card.

T: I hate you.

J: Guess that means sex is off the table?

At this point, Tim seems to realize that the best course of action is to ignore him, which works well enough for Jason. He’s gotten his laugh out of it, and there’s really no need to beat a dead horse.

Or dead bird, as it were.

He promptly forgets about the whole thing when Roy calls him from the front of the ship and informs them they need to pick up supper somewhere because Kori vaporized the hotplate on the ship.

*

The next time he hears from Tim, it’s the night after they save Gotham from a secret society of owls trying to make a creepy nursery rhyme prophecy come true. He answered his call for help against his better judgement since he’s still not on great terms with the Family and didn’t exactly linger to help with the clean-up.

(Barbie was just as unimpressed with him as he remembers, though it was nice to see her up and about again. There’s something cathartic in knowing the Joker couldn’t keep either of them down.)

He, Kori and Roy have just touched down on their little tropical getaway, and Roy’s already trying to get laid (although Jason’s not entirely sure if it’s with Kori or Kori’s ship at this point) and Kori’s smiling that ‘aren’t-human-males-so-quaint’ expression she reserves for the men in her life. Jason’s in the middle of trying to call that flight attendant, Isabel, to see if she’s interested in meeting up for drinks (“Yes, Roy, I know how to ask a woman out, now fuck off.”) when his phone chimes with a notification.

T: Thanks for the team-up. I know it’s not your favorite thing to do.

Jason makes a face at that, both the implication that he was contributing anything to any type of team, and the idea that he doesn’t enjoy beating the crap out of whatever creeper of the week is infesting Gotham.

He weighs the pros and cons of acknowledging that, but eventually texts back:

J: It’s my city too. Make sure you remind him about that.

There’s barely a breath before the kid replies.

T: Always do.

T: And since he won’t say it, if there’s anything you need in the future, just let me know.

And…well. There are possibilities to that. Having a Wayne—even an in-name-only Wayne—owe you favors is a hell of a thing. But it also carries with it the strings of staying connected, which he doesn’t want to out and out encourage.

His eyes flit to the open text to Isabel, and he reconsiders.

J: Know anywhere I can get a few decent suits? Not the Family reunion kind. J: And not so expensive I have to sell me soul.

J: Again.

If he’s going to try this whole dating thing again, he might as well make the effort.

Three dots over beneath his message, and then

T: Your sense of humor sucks. As usual.

T: I’ll set you up with my tailor’s contact info.

T: Gimme a sex.

Jason snorts, and before he’s even really thought it through, he’s typing back.

J: Nah, I don’t put out until the third date.

It’s several minutes before Tim responds—likely he’s gotten distracted by something; it’s the middle of the workday in his time zone, after all—and when he does it’s as indignant as Jason expects.

T: What? No! A sex!

T: A SEC!!!

T: Autocorrect.

J: Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

T: You’re an ass.

J: It’s okay, Timbers, you don’t have to lie. First step is admitting you have a problem.

T: Forget it. No favor for you.

Jason sniggers at that, earning curious glances from Roy and Koru, but he shakes his head. No need to explain the joker.

*

He still ends up getting in contact with Tim’s tailor. Turns out the kid even insisted on paying for whatever Jason wanted up front.

Which he’s not going to say no to.

Somehow, taking Tim’s money doesn’t feel as fraught as taking Bruce’s.

It doesn’t stop him from sending a needling message as he’s leaving the store after ordering several disgustingly expensive suits. (Seriously, what the hell is it with rich people?)

J: So are you my sugar daddy now?

He never gets a reply.

TO BE CONTINUED

[intheticklecloset]

Avocado (Invader Zim Oneshot)

Hey everyone! This one isn’t fulfilling any particular request; I just loved this idea and wanted to put it into words, so here we are! I hope you enjoy it - I had a lot of fun writing it! ^^

Fandom: Invader Zim

Shipping: ZADF, a little ZADR

~

Zim could hardly sit still. He shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable and failing. He glanced at Dib, who sat on the opposite end, an open cushion and reasonable space between them. The human’s eyes were fixed on the screen, but he didn’t seem much more interested in what they were watching than Zim was.

The desire was gnawing at him. More than anything he wanted to break the monotony with an activity that – until Earth – Zim had never been able to participate in without feeling like a foolish smeet, a failure to the Irken Empire. But he recalled how much Dib had protested the first time around, and it made him hesitate now.

Finally, the combination of longing and the unbearable silence between them wore Zim down. He said, “Dib?”

“Hmm?”

Zim swallowed. “I want to tickle you.”

He could feel the human tense beside him. A warning alarm began to go off in his mind. He dared to glance at his friend anyway. Dib was looking at him with a mix of surprise, confusion, and uncertainty. Zim rushed on. “I know you don’t like it like I do, not that side of it, but…I don’t know. You said before maybe we could…talk about it?”

Dib’s look of trepidation softened, and he nodded slowly. “Sure, Zim. We can talk about it.”

Zim nodded back, and the two fell into silence once more. After a few long moments, the alien cleared his throat nervously. “I…don’t know how to talk about it.”

Dib smiled a little. “Well…maybe start with…why? Before you said you liked having me at your mercy. Is that the only reason?”

“Kind of…” Zim mumbled. He shrugged. “There is something truly special about seeing you like that. When I’ve felled enemies before it was always to destroy them permanently, for the Empire. With you, I don’t want to do that anymore. But part of me…” He trailed off, falling quiet.

Dib, genuinely interested, shifted on the couch so he was facing Zim. “Part of you what?”

“Part of me does miss the fighting we did.” Zim looked at him. “It gave me a reason to get up in the morning, knowing you were out there aware of my true identity, knowing you wanted to destroy me just as badly as I wanted to destroy you. I guess…I guess after you tickled me that first time I realized that even though we don’t fight like we used to, there was still a way I could claim victory over you that wouldn’t cause any damage. And it’s far more personal of a victory, too. I find that appealing.”

“So it’s not partly because you like hearing me laugh?”

“Oh, most definitely!” Zim replied quickly, eagerly. “The joy of victory is relishing the moment. The reactions I produce from you are very, very pleasing to me.”

Dib couldn’t help but smile. He blushed a little and looked away. “That’s reassuring, I guess.”

“What about you?” Zim asked, inspired by this ‘talking’ thing. “Why do you not like to be tickled?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, exactly, it’s just…I only really enjoy it when it’s with people I’m close to. Like, you know. My dad or my sister. Maybe friends, if I really had any.” He stopped suddenly, the realization of his words hitting him hard. He met Zim’s eyes.

“Friends like me?” the alien asked quietly.

Dib paused, then nodded. “Yeah. I guess so.” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, weighing his options and his next words carefully. “I think the thing is, I’d like the security of knowing that when I really want it to stop, it’ll stop.” He recalled being handcuffed to his bed, desperately wishing Zim would listen to his pleas for mercy as his feet were being tickled. Dib nodded again. “I’d like to have a safe word.”

“A ‘safe’ word?” Zim inquired.

“A safe word is a word that signals when something really needs to stop,” Dib explained. “In this case, when I seriously need you to stop tickling me.”

“So it would be okay to tickle you, as long as I stop when you say this word?”

“Exactly.”

Zim smirked. “So it would be like you surrendering to me.”

“Uh, yeah. In a way.”

“I like this idea.” Zim’s smirk grew. “What is the word?”

Dib hadn’t thought this far ahead. He considered for a moment. “How about…um…avocado?”

“Avocado?” Zim frowned, confused. “What does that have to do with tickling?”

“It doesn’t. That’s the point. Hearing it would be so out of context to the situation that it would grab your attention and let you know I was seriously done.”

Zim thought about it for only a second, then nodded. “Agreed. I hear ‘avocado,’ I stop tickling, and I win.”

Dib couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure. And I guess now that we’ve figured that out, if you want…”

Zim didn’t let him finish. He hurried forward, grabbing Dib by the leg to pull him closer with one swift tug, then hopped onto him and immediately went for his underarms.

“Whoa! Hey!” Dib yelped in surprise before bursting into giggles and pulling his arms down defensively. Zim managed to poke and prod around the general area, but was never able to reach the prize.

“Surrender your weak spot, Dib,” Zim ordered, skittering his fingers over the human’s ribs instead.

“J-Just because I said you could tickle me doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy for you,” Dib replied, grinning and giggling and instinctively trying to protect himself.

“You wish for me to earn the right to your bad spot?”

Bad spot. The words made Dib shudder. “Well I’m not just going to let you at it, so, yeah.”

“Very well.” In a flash, Zim grabbed Dib’s wrists and forced them away from his body and over his head, gathering them in one hand and pinning them to the arm rest while using his free hand to scribble into the human’s right underarm. Dib’s giggles became surprised laughter and his struggling increased. “How is that, human?”

Dib tried bucking his hips to get Zim off of him. “N-Not what I m-meant, but--!” He dissolved into laughter for a few moments. “Effective!”

“Yes,” Zim agreed, very nearly losing balance when Dib bucked his hips a second time. He growled playfully. “You fight too much.”

“I can’t help it!” Dib cried, finally freeing his left hand from the alien’s grip to try and pull those tickling fingers away. “It tickles!”

Zim grinned wickedly. “Oh, you think this tickles?”

Suddenly he leapt off of Dib and the couch, grabbing the boy by his coat and dragging him down to the floor. Dib landed in an awkward heap, and Zim took the opportunity to pull his arms above his head again and then sit on them, pinning them in place while he reached forward and dug mercilessly into his friend’s now completely vulnerable underarms.

Dib screeched with laughter, arching his back and kicking the ground to no avail. “No, no, no! Stop, Zim!”

“I will stop,” Zim replied, chuckling, “when you mean it.”

Resolved to his fate, Dib lay on the ground shrieking and laughing and squirming and thrashing, watching Zim’s face light up with a strange sort of evil delight at how helpless he’d so quickly become.

A minute or two later and just when Dib was beginning to think he couldn’t take any more, Zim slowed to a gradual stop, eventually pulling his hands away entirely to let Dib catch his breath. “W-Why’d you stop?”

Zim quirked a brow. “Do you want more?”

“N-No,” Dib stammered, blushing furiously. “I mean…I appreciate the breather.”

“I do not wish to wear you out so quickly, Dib.” Zim wiggled his fingers teasingly. “I want to draw this out as long as you can handle it.”

Dib groaned. “I don’t have the stamina or love for it that you do. I won’t last very long.”

“I will train you to withstand more as time goes on.”

“Train? What am I, a dog?”

“An experiment.” Zim pulled back Dib’s coat and slipped his hands beneath the short sleeves of Dib’s t-shirt. “An ongoing one.” He slooooowly began to run his fingers along the sensitive skin of the human’s weak spot. “If you’ll allow me, I may even teach you to enjoy it.”

With the alien hovering so close to his face, it was impossible for Dib to miss the excited look in his friend’s pink eyes, the smirk that gave away how much he enjoyed being in control. The very light, teasing tickling was certainly not helping things. Dib could feel the heat of his blush as it burned his cheeks.

“I-I don’t know about that…”

“We’ll see.”

Without any warning or buildup whatsoever, Zim suddenly threw Dib back into complete hysterics, laughter spilling from him freely – along with a protest and a plea here and there. The alien watched his helpless friend writhe on the ground beneath him like a fish out of water, all from a simple touch to the right spot, and grinned. He relished the rush of power he felt in this moment, knowing he was in total control and only one word would stop him from tickling Dib until he begged for mercy like the inferior creature he was.

“Please, Zim! Go somewhere else!” the human shrieked, laughing uncontrollably. “I can’t take it there much longer!”

Zim slowed to a stop again. “I’ll decide where to tickle you, Dib. I do so enjoy the reactions I’m getting right now.”

Taking several deep breaths, Dib said, “Do you have to pin my arms up like this?”

“You struggle too much. Plus, I like it when you can’t stop me.”

“Sadist?”

“Master of the situation.” Zim tilted his head. “You are very red.”

Dib groaned again. “I’m blushing, Zim.”

“I know what human blushing looks like. I mean, you get redder every time I give you a break.”

Oh, there was no way Dib was telling Zim it was the teasing making him blush harder. No. Way. “I don’t know, Zim,” he replied lamely, after a little too long of a pause.

Unfortunately for him, Zim was intelligent. He knew better. He latched onto the lie and squinted at Dib suspiciously. “You do know. You just won’t tell me.” A slow, evil smile spread across his face. “Well, Dib. As I’m sure you know by now…” He began scribbling again. “I have ways of making you talk.”

“Agh! No!” Dib tossed his head back and laughed, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the image of the alien smirking down at him, already triumphant in his victory. “No, Zim!”

“If you would like to make this an interrogation, Dib, I’ll be very happy to play the inquisitor.” Zim chuckled darkly. “Tell me.”

Oh, crap. This was not good. Dib knew he wouldn’t be able to resist admitting it to Zim eventually, and then the Irken would take that information and use it against him and make this so much worse and…

“I don’t have all night, Dib.” Zim’s scribbling turned to digging. “Tell me.”

“Please, Zim!” Dib screeched desperately, his laughter coming out so fast and hard he struggled to gasp in enough air between rounds. “Zim, stop, I can’t take it!”

“Then tell me.”

“Zim!!”

“Tell me.”

And just as he knew he would, Dib crumbled. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you! Just stop! Please!”

Zim did stop, allowing the human a few moments before tapping his fingers against his underarms as a reminder. “Well?”

“The t-teasing,” Dib mumbled, unable to look at the alien. “I keep blushing harder because you keep teasing me.”

“Oh?” Zim’s smirk was back. “You like teasing, do you?”

“Ugh.” Dib really wished he could pull his arms down. “It’s not that I like it. It just…affects me. That’s all.”

“I see. Well then, what if I…?” Zim hovered his fingers over Dib’s field of vision and wiggled them slowly.

Dib’s cheeks flared red and he shivered, looking away. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Way to go, Zim.”

“Do not mock me, human,” Zim snapped with a smile, suddenly plunging his wiggling fingers into Dib’s ribcage, startling him into a short yelp followed by an overflow of giggles. “I have discovered a new weakness that I am very excited to experiment with further.”

“I-I’m sure you are.”

Dib pulled his legs up in an effort to protect at least part of his ribs from the tickling, since his arms were useless trapped above him like they were. Zim glanced up, grinned, and slowed his fingers to a gentle crawl.

“I’m going to let your arms go now,” the alien said.

Surprised, Dib said, “Uh…okay.”

As promised, Zim pushed himself up off the floor, allowing Dib to gratefully bring his arms down to his sides. Once there, however, Zim quickly rolled Dib onto his stomach and leapt over him to straddle his ankles, leaving an entirely new part of him immobile.

“Oh, no! Hey!” Dib cried, trying to free himself but finding it difficult to do much more than flail. “No, Zim, not this again!”

“Your arms are free,” Zim replied, making quick work of the shoes and socks covering the human’s feet. “You have a safe word. I don’t see how this is a repeat situation.”

“Wait! Give me a second first!”

“For what?”

“To just…prepare myself.”

Zim scribbled wildly over Dib’s soles. “Why would I do that?” he asked, grinning in satisfaction at the boom of laughter he pulled from the human’s lungs.

Dib shrieked and screamed and pounded the floor with his fists, unable to do much else as an explosion of mirth overtook him. His feet were ridiculously ticklish. “Stop, stop, stop! Please, no! Not there! ZIM!”

“These reactions please me, Dib.” Zim switched to raking up and down Dib’s arches. “Give me more.”

All Dib could do was laugh and laugh and laugh. He struggled and thrashed desperately but it was no use. He wasn’t going anywhere, and Zim wasn’t letting up, and it was just so ticklish he couldn’t stand it, and he begged more profusely than he had all night. “Oh my god, stop, Zim! Please stop! Please! Not there! Anywhere but there!”

Zim knew full well he was pushing Dib’s limits, but he was having too much fun to care. He loved the screaming laughter, the desperate pleading, the useless attempts at escape. It was all so wonderful – both dishing it out and taking it later.

Then, with one final, pleading cry: “Avocado!”

Zim remembered their earlier talk and stopped immediately, releasing Dib’s ankles. He turned to watch the boy curl into a red-faced, panting, giggling ball with immense satisfaction and a power rush he knew he would want to seek again soon, over and over. But not today. For now, he was content.

A minute later, after he’d somewhat recovered, Dib shakily sat up and put his socks and shoes back on, still blushing red and taking large breaths of air. He turned, saw Zim watching him with that victorious smirk on his face, opened his mouth, and was surprised when the alien cut him off.

“Thank you.”

Dib blinked. “Huh? For what?”

“For letting me destroy you with tickle torture.”

“Ha!” Dib laughed before he could stop himself. He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’d call that tickle torture, but you’re welcome.” Then he looked again, saw Zim’s face, and knew instantly he’d regret saying what he just said. “I mean…uh…”

“Not torture, you say?” Zim cracked his knuckles.

Dib hurried to divert his train of thought. “Thank you for stopping when I used the safe word.”

“You’re welcome, Dib-stink.” The alien’s pink eyes shone with wicked delight.

Crap, Dib thought. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?

Zim hopped back up onto the couch, settled in, and smirked at the TV, though it was obvious his mind was far from the show.

“Not torture, huh? Challenge accepted.”

[be-dazzled]

She’s In Your Court #SIYC

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FFnet link: Click here Tumblr: Genre: Multi-chapter, Romance Rating: M for Sensitive Language

Summary: Gray Fullbuster is a player both in love and in life. He plays Professional Basketball and is being groomed to be in line with Basketball Legends Michael Jordan, Lebron James, Kobe Bryant and Stephen Curry. There’s just one problem, Gray Fullbuster is a play-ah. His life is a giant mess of crazy parties, waking up with random women and waking up in random women’s apartments. Just living the life.

The opinion of the public on him is waning. To save the million-dollar endorsements in the verge of disappearing, Gray needs to change his image. Therefore, Gray Fullbuster, Fiore Knight’s Team Captain and Most Valuable Player, will be in the next season of “My Star Can Dance”.

There’s another problem: it seems like his star isn’t that bright since his partner, one of Fiore’s prominent ballerinas, doesn’t know him? His billboard is hanging in front of her dancing school! And it was a good billboard since all he was wearing was his six-pack and an Aztec bandana. How come she didn’t notice?

And the night is gonna be just fine Gotta fly, gotta see, got to be I can't take it So, baby, yes, love never felt so good

 – Love Never Felt So Good, Michael Jackson

“It’s not a date.”

 Juvia fixed her hair, pulling her blue locks away from her face and into a tight bun – a force of habit. Yet, the style showed off her slender neck – one of her many assets. And Juvia Lockser was well aware of her asset inventory and put them on display once in a while.

Mrs. Lockser stood and leaned against the door frame; watched her daughter put on her own make-up. She had one brow raised; not buying her daughter’s words.

 The ringing of the door bell peeled her off from the door frame. It was Mary – Juvia’s part-time assistant. Her voice travelled to Juvia’s room, announcing that she brought the financial reports from the family’s accountant. Mrs. Lockser reappeared and returned to her original position.

 Juvia was now putting on final touches to her evening make-up; not too much, not too little. She stood from her dresser and checked her look for tonight at the full body mirror. She was more than satisfied.

 Juvia wore a bluish-silver sequined long gown with a V-plunge neckline that was low enough to show some decent skin. The twin spaghetti straps were thin but strong enough to hold the gown on her body at the shoulders. She looked elegant but still sexy.

 “You’re saying that but that is definitely a date dress.” Olivia teased.

 “I-it’s not. I wear this all the time.”

 The surprise of the gown, however, came when Juvia turned around to reveal an open back from the shoulders to reaching nearly the buttocks.

 Mary poked her head out of the door frame and agreed.

 “No, Ms. Juvia. That is definitely a date dress.”

 “It-it-it’s not a date!”

  The Magnolia Great Hall. To hold an event in the Magnolia Great Hall was making a statement.

 Mrs. Lockser drove her daughter to the Magnolia Great Hall. The latter refused Gray’s offer of picking her up and going to the Fiore Knights annual gala party together. Juvia avoided anything that would resemble her attendance to the event as a date.

 “Enjoy your date, honey–”

 “–It’s not a date, Mother.”

 Juvia narrowed her eyes at the older Lockser which earned an earnest giggle from the driver. She was growing tired of reminding everyone (mostly, her mother) that this wasn’t a date.

 “Anyway, just don’t catch a cold. Alright?”

 Then, Olivia drove away, leaving Juvia confused whether the reminder was a motherly gesture or the older Lockser was taking a swing at her. She was, after all, wearing a backless mermaid gown in a cold September night. Juvia was now having regrets as  the harsh cold slapped her exposed skin. It wasn’t like she came to impress Hoopster. So why did she have to wear this gown again?

 “You clean up pretty well, Ms. Lockser.”

 Juvia raised her gaze at the man rushing down the steps of the Magnolia Great Hall. His sleek black hair was slicked back; the ends brushed the collar of his crisp dark suit. If she was being honest, Gray Fullbuster looked professional, sexy and dangerous. Not necessarily in that order.

 “So do you, Fullbuster.”

 Acting like a real gentleman, Gray offered his hand to Juvia and escorted the lady up the low steps. Experience told Gray that on parties like this one, women tend to wear really tall heels, like there was some kind of saying that the taller the heels the better. He didn’t understand women’s need to be off the ground but Gray learned, and he learned the hard way, never to ask a woman about it. He had no complaints when they wore the heels and the heels alone.

 Gray led Juvia up the stairs and was taken-aback when he realized that Juvia’s upper and middle back were uncovered. It was almost sinful to look at. Especially, when Gray’s dark, curious eyes kept drifting down somewhere they shouldn’t.

 When Juvia noticed that Gray fell behind and stopped moving, she quickly turned back to find him appreciating the great view she put on for tonight. Hoopster was totally mesmerized. Now, she was not regretting wearing the dress.

 “Is there something wrong, Fullbuster?” Juvia asked. A smile of triumphant played about her lips.

 The question pulled Gray back to reality. He shook whatever thoughts he was having and turned to Juvia like he wasn’t gawking at the woman.

 “Ah, nothing.” Gray stepped ahead and took the lead.

 The steps were polished to perfection and Juvia felt that they were a little slippery. She was used to wearing high heels but she felt a little wobbly. Her escort was all attentive to her and walked with in her pace. The length of her gown wasn't helping.

 As her luck would have it, Juvia missed a step and was about to fall to her great embarrassment. She shut her eyes closed and yelped when she felt gravity pulling her down. Good thing her escort was a professional athlete. His free hand quickly grabbed the lady by the waist and crashed her body against his. At the same time, acting on survival instinct, Juvia threw her arms and wrapped them around Gray for stability.

 When she opened her eyes, Gray’s dark ones filled Juvia’s vision. They were pulling her in, drowning her in their endlessness. Then Juvia realized that Gray was close. So close that their foreheads were almost touching. So close that she was almost sure Gray would feel her heart hammering against her chest.

 “You know for a dancer, you really are clumsy.”

 And she realized too, that she was clinging to Gray like her life depended on him. And suddenly she felt him everywhere all at once.

 “Oh!”

 Juvia pushed him away, cautiously as not to throw herself off balance.

 “Well, the people maintaining this place did a really good job polishing the steps.” She reasoned, masking her embarrassment and fluster with her usual witticism.

 “I guess that’s why this place is really expensive.” Returned Gray. “C’mon. Let’s see if the inside is as slippery as the outside.”

 Because for sure Gray didn’t mind Juvia clinging to him all night.

  The inside of the Magnolia Great Hall glowed in muted gold. Impressive chandeliers hanged from the ceiling, round tables dressed in gold tablecloth spread across. Well-dressed men and women scattered around the room. It felt like Juvia was walking into the Oscar’s or Emmy’s Awarding Ceremony. It wouldn’t surprise the ballerina if she ran into two or more celebrities. The glitz of it all would easily intimidate a regular person. But not Juvia Lockser. Despite being a stranger, she easily belonged to this world.

 “Hey, Captain!”

 Juvia immediately recognized the first person who approached and welcomed them. It was Fiore Knights’ Vice Captain and Point Guard, Natsu Dragneel, in a dashing suit and a loose and spiky pink hair.

 Gray grabbed the hand Natsu offered and pulled him in a decorous chest-bump.

 “And is this the famous Juvia Lockser?”

 Juvia’s heart throbbed. Her silly little crush on the Point Guard made it hard to control the beating. So, she had to contain herself when the Vice Captain extended his arm for a handshake.

 “I can hardly call myself famous, Mr. Dragneel.” She managed to say as she took his hand in hers for courtesy.

 Natsu surprised her when the Vice Captain flipped Juvia’s hand and placed a light kiss at the back of her palm.

 “Okay, I think that’s enough.”

 Gray pulled Juvia’s slender hand away from his Vice Captain, throwing the latter a stink-eye. Natsu was holding the Captain’s date too long for his liking. It was making him feel an irrational urge to kick his Vice Captain. Gray placed his hand at the small of her back, nudged the innocent woman forward and ushered his date towards their table. Like marking his territory.

 “I was just pulling your leg, Captain.”

 Juvia did not see it nor did she mind what Natsu said after them. She had no idea what he was talking about; and laughing about for that matter. His boyish guffaw echoed throughout the great hall. As Juvia had her back on the Vice Captain, she could only imagine him holding his stomach as he laughed his heart out.

 Gray was obviously aware of it though with the way he turned around and threw a finger at the guy. Juvia never understood this type of love among men.

 As the ‘not-dating’ couple walked towards an occupied round table, with the warmth of Gray’s palm burning her exposed skin, Juvia quickly recognized the faces seated around it – the Fiore Knights. Her heart skipped a beat and it had nothing to do with Gray’s palm sliding down a dangerous path. Okay, maybe a little to do with it but not entirely. Juvia scolded herself to maintain her composure. But as soon as she and Gray reached the table, the men around it stood to acknowledge their Captain and his ‘not-date’. Juvia’s fan-girl heart somersaulted.

 The men exchanged pleasantries the way Gray greeted his Vice Captain earlier. The curious men gathered around the Captain and his date before the former had the chance to introduce Juvia. They were all nice towards her, looking all sharp and formal. The Fiore Knights’ Small Forward, Loke Regalus, almost grabbed Juvia’s hand if Gray had not acted quickly and shook the poor guy’s hand instead.

 “Sorry, Captain, but your seat is over there at the Owner’s Table.”

 It was Natsu who informed Gray, placing a hand over the Captain’s shoulder which made Gray lean on the side a little.

 “Aw men. And the boys were looking forward for this meeting with Ms. Lockser.”

 Loke looked serious and offended but the glint in his eyes piqued Juvia’s interest.

 “Shut up.”

 The voice came from Gray who looked like he was holding back. At the same time, he looked relieved about something.

 “C’mon, I’m going to introduce you to my mother.”

 Juvia froze. She almost dropped her purse. Introduce her? To his mother? The world started spinning.

 “Hey, are you alright?”

 Juvia felt weight on her shoulders. She managed to return to Earth and look up to Gray’s gorgeous face pulled in a worried expression. He still looked heavenly.

 “Gray?”

 But the voice did not come from Juvia. It came from a stranger’s who now emerged from behind Gray.

 The stranger was a woman who walked with grace and sophistication. There was a certain air about her that reminded Juvia of her own mother. But the older woman’s face was stern and she looked like the rich, terrifying women Juvia and her mother watched in dramas at night; a powerful mother who would do anything to keep his son away from the woman who she felt unworthy of him.

 So why...

 “Oh my gosh, it is you!”

 Why was this intimidating woman suddenly embracing Juvia?

 “I’m such a big fan of the show.” The woman said, not breaking the contact.

 Juvia hesitantly returned the woman’s embrace out of courtesy. She looked over the older woman’s shoulder and watched Gray’s lips formed the words: she’s a hugger.

 “Mother, you can let her go now.”

 Gray did not look like he was annoyed, although he tried to sound it. Instead, he looked even pleased at the sight.

 The woman heeded Gray’s words and withdrew her arms around Juvia. She instead placed her hands on Juvia’s arms and studied her like she couldn’t believe Juvia was standing before her, in the flesh.

 “You look more beautiful in person.”

 “Thank you.” Juvia said, sheepishly tucking her hair behind her ear. Inwardly, she was quite happy with the compliment. Who wouldn’t be when the mother of your… dance partner said you were beautiful?

 “There they are!”

 Another stranger’s voice, now coming from a man, came from behind Juvia. She spun around to see an older man, around his 40s, smoking a cigarette.

 “There’s my beautiful family.”

 The man donning a flamboyant fur coat bit the cigarette between his teeth then walked over towards the trio with open arms.

 Juvia bowed his head to show the man respect. Also, because she wanted to hide the red spread over her cheeks when the man called them his ‘beautiful family’. She probably wasn’t included in the phrase but she couldn’t help but get flustered.

 Mrs. Mine met her pompous husband halfway and kissed him on the cheeks. Then she moved and stood beside her husband as they awaited Gray to make his greetings.

 “How about my good ‘ol son?”

 Gray did not leave Juvia’s side. Instead, in a formal and distant voice he greeted the man with a simple word.

 “President.”

 “Huh? Not gonna give your old man a hug after all that ruckus you caused? C’mon, appease this old man.”

 Mr. Mine spread his arms in an inviting embrace to which Gray never responded.

 “Oh, I get it. A little shy with your female companion around to watch?” President Mine turned to Juvia as he spoke, “This family is a hugger.” Then, he walked over to where Gray was and pulled the poor guy for a hug.

 Juvia was not sure if she should pity Gray who was stiff as a stick as President Mine wrapped him in a tight but unwelcomed embrace. She held the laughter that was about to erupt when she saw Gray’s annoyed expression.

 “You can let go of me now, President.”

 President Mine then let out a hearty laugh.

 “And who is this beautiful lady?”

 Wakaba Mine blew a smoke away from their circle before addressing the beautiful woman standing beside his own beautiful woman.

 “My name is Juvia Lockser, Mr. President.”

 “Please call me Wakaba. Don’t follow in this guy’s poor manners.”

 Before President Mine was able to reach out a hand to Juvia, a man in a black suit approached and whispered something to him. Juvia noticed the small lapel attached to the young man’s coat. He must be part of the security detail, Juvia thought.

 “Guess it’s time to get this party started.”

 The owner of Fiore Knights nodded and excused himself. The man in the black suit then led him up the stage and behind a decorated podium. Wakaba Mine commanded with his round voice as he welcomed his guests.

 “Let’s take our seats, Juvia. It will take some time before that old man get his message across. Ouch!”

 “Don’t talk about your father like that.”

 Mrs. Mine slapped her son’s back before inviting Juvia to sit next to her at the Owner’s Table. The ballerina could only offer poor Gray a comforting smile.

 Gray took the seat next to Juvia whilst sputtering words under his breath. He was right. President Mine took more time than required to finish his speech. The old man loved the attention, making jokes here and there, sometimes at Gray’s expense. Gray was a good sport and laughed along with the audience.

 Good thing the waiters started to serve the appetizers. Juvia was already starving. As they reached the main course, Juvia began to wonder if the President was not hungry. As if sensing her thoughts, Gray leaned in, his lips brushing against Juvia’s ear when he informed her that President Mine had the tendency to forget about food when he was holding a microphone.

 “It’s his favorite past time aside from making fun of me.”

 Juvia did not catch the last thing Gray said. She was busy calming her heart and hormones.

 A thundering applause broke out and drew Juvia’s attention back to the podium. A rustle at the side drew her attention to Gray who was now leaving his seat and making his way to the stage.

 “Good evening.” His voice was deep, cool and confident. “I would like to thank everyone for the support they have given the team for the past few years. From back when we were starting and no one believed in us. The road wasn’t easy. We had to practice every day, day and night in the last six years in order to be where we are today. But we won’t stop here.”

 A hot swell spread in Juvia’s chest. There was something about how Gray carried himself on the stage that made Juvia look at the man in another light. Gray was proud, confident and genuinely grateful. His pride was coming out of years of hard work, of highs and lows, of blood and sweat. His skill and talent were not served to him in a silver platter. Gray earned it.

 “You were the first people who believed in us. So we offer this future wins to all of you.” Gray turned to the Owners’ Table. “Mother, President. Thank you for believing in us first before the world ever believed in Fiore Knights. From this day onwards, we promise to work even harder than we ever did in order to bring pride to the name we all worked hard for.”

 Gray stepped back from the podium and walked at the center of the stage. As if on cue, the men around the Fiore Knights’ table stood proud, faced the Owners Table and shouted in unison, “Thank you for your support.” Along with their Captain on stage, the members of the Fiore Knights basketball team bowed in gratitude.

 The scene was so touching that a tear almost escaped Juvia’s eyes. She couldn’t explain the feeling. Tonight she saw another side of the annoying Hoopster who walked into her studio like he owned it; the Hoopster who annoyed the hell out of her every chance he got. She liked this side of him. Too much for her own liking.

  After a few more speeches were given, President Mine returned to the stage to invite everyone to the dance floor.

 “I know we’re kind of ‘danced out’. What with all our practicing and everything. But this song is really fun to dance to.” Gray extended his hand, saying his invitation over the music. “Care for a dance, Ms. Lockser?”

 “One is never ‘danced out’, Mr. Fullbuster.” Juvia placed her hand in Gray’s. “Especially, not this ballerina.”

 The two stood and walked away from their table; spun and danced their way to the dance floor, even sang along with The Groovefellas band, enjoying a lively version of ‘Love Never Felt So Good’.

  Even all the way to the car and through the whole ride to her house, Juvia never had that much fun until Gray. Juvia had two to three glasses of wine. She wasn’t drunk or anything but everything seemed exciting.

 Gray walked Juvia to her door, recounting all the fun things that transpired during the party. Such as when Gajeel Redfox, Fiore Knights Center, grabbed the microphone and started to rap. Also, when Natsu asked to dance with Juvia but had to dance with Laxus instead. It was Gray’s doing. Before the night ended though, Natsu was able to dance with the Earthland Sports reporter, Lucy. Also Gray's doing. There was also a time when an older woman hurt her back dancing with Loke. It was so much fun watching Fiore Knights making fools of themselves. But the high of the night was watching the big men of Fiore Knights singing ‘Dancing Queen’ on stage, in falsetto.

 “I really had fun, Gray.”

 Gray guided the wobbly Juvia through the path-walk of her own home to the patio.

 “I’m glad you did. Let’s do that again sometimes.”

 “I’d love that.”

 The Lockser House seemed silent and asleep. The lights were off which worried Gray.

 “Should we call someone?”

 “It’s okay. I have my keys.”

 Juvia scrambled for her keys inside her purse. It was dark and she couldn’t find the small thing inside her small bag.

 “Here, let me help you.”

 Gray turned on the light on his phone, leaned over to see inside the purse.

 “Found it!” Juvia was happy to announce.

 She looked up from her purse and came face to face with Gray. Her heart thumped wildly. Gray was a breath away. She inhaled his scent – ocean, summer and sexiness. She wasn’t drunk but the scent was intoxicating.

 “Well, good night, Ms. Lockser.”

 Her gaze fell on his lips, red and swollen and very tempting.

 “Good night, Mr. Fullbuster.”

 Juvia’s gaze never left Gray’s enticing lips and he never moved away from their position. Instead, Gray took another step towards her, bridging the mere distance between their faces.

 “I’d really like to kiss you right now, Ms. Lockser.”

 His voice was low, hoarse and a little too sexy. For a moment Juvia thought she forgot to breathe. When she remembered that she did know how to breathe, Juvia managed to voice her consent.

 “Okay.”

 Gray did not rush into it. He took his time, savoring every moment. Heat met heat when je placed his arm at the small of Juvia’s exposed back and pulled her gently against him. The places he touched burned and Juvia wasn’t sure anymore if the heat was coming from her or Gray.  She didn’t care. All she could think about was how much she wanted his kiss.

 Gray’s other arm cupped her flushed cheek and before the anticipation of the kiss killed her, Gray pressed his mouth against Juvia’s.

 The kiss started innocent like those written or depicted in children’s books. Just a mere light touch of the lips. But Gray wanted more. He asked for more. He traced Juvia’s lips with his wet tongue, begging them to part. Juvia was more than happy to indulge him. She wrapped her hands around his neck and followed Gray’s lead. The heat from the searing kiss traveled down her spine to her fingertips. He withdrew his hand from her face and started to explore her exposed back. Juvia’s knees buckled when she felt Gray’s warm and wet tongue tasting hers. The kiss consumed Juvia and if Gray wasn’t holding her, she might have fallen to the ground.

 It took all of Juvia’s willpower to pull away from the kiss. But she needed air, both of them.

 “A good night is an understatement.” Gray said, resting his forehead against hers. “This is one hell of a night.”

 Juvia could not agree more.

Writer’s Corner: Happy New Year! I uploaded this first at ffnet with no apparent reason but I did and I will do that for the next few chapters. Please do reblog this chapter and when you have some time drop me some asks, alright? Tell me what you think.

[lostboysuga]

The Way He Speaks (oneshot)

• also published on:

wattpad - gingerbreadsuga

ao3 - lostboysuga

• 2.6k words

--

Yoongi walked into the studio, his eyes tired from days and days of straight working on songs at the most ridiculous time of night. You'd think he didn't sleep ever, but he did, but only in the studio. It was his home, it was the place he dreamed, and then wrote down ideas for songs based on his dreams. It was the place he felt safe, comforted by the sounds of soft beats, the place where he truly fell in love with music. It was also the place he met Hoseok and Namjoon. (J-Hope and RM respectively.

There was a knock on the door and Yoongi replied, “C- come i- in.” The door slowly opened and Namjoon appeared in the doorway. Yoongi was happy to see the younger male because he’d just had a brilliant idea and came right to the studio to write it down and try to work on the beat for it as well. Yoongi gestured to the couch, asking Namjoon to sit and listen.

Yoongi played the loop for him and Namjoon bopped his head to the beat throughout. Yoongis small smile grew larger toward the end of the beat for the chorus as he knew Namjoon really liked it based on his expression.

“W- what did y- you t- think?” Yoongi asked, pausing the beat where he’d last edited it.

“That was really good, Yoongi. It’s a little plain though, is there a reason for that. It also seems a little serious? Is this a serious song you’re working on?”

Yoongi made an interesting face and said, “S- sorta.” He motioned Namjoon over to him, and pulled up the lyrics he’d brainstormed and edited slightly.

I know you’re hesitating

Because even if you tell the truth, it’ll come back as scars

I won’t say clichéd things like “have strength”

I’ll just listen to you, listen

What did I tell you?

I told you you’d overcome

You didn’t believe (really)

Will we be able to overcome?

This miracle

Did we make it?

...

It was his lament to everyone who’d ever gone through something similar to him. Bullying, constant teasing because he couldn’t speak with confidence the way everyone else could. Because he couldn’t go to the front of the classroom without fainting, because he couldn’t handle all their stares. This was to all those kids who experienced those same feelings.

“So it is serious, just as I thought. Nothing but to be expected from the ‘Oh So Serious Yoongi’."

“I’m n- not th- that s- seri- serious.”

“Oh sure you are. Always with that straight face, trying not to be rude, but always having a head swirling with ideas. Whenever someone asks you a question, it’s always a short answer. You’re pretty serious, man.” Yoongi let out a breathy laugh. Namjoon knew all about his stuttering problem, more so than Hosoek did or ever could.

“A- anyw- way. W- when’s our n- next g- gig?”

“Tomorrow night. Why?” Yoongi gave Namjoon a sly look and Namjoon knew exactly what that look meant. “Yoongi you know you’ll be dead tired, even though I’m pretty sure you already are dead tired. You can’t perform this tomorrow night, it’s not enough time.” Yoongi simply chuckled evilly and turned around to face the laptop. He ripped his notebook out from his bag that was next to the desk, and began typing away, saying lyrics in different ways to see which way flowed best with the loop.

Namjoon sighed and left, quietly shutting the door behind him and sighing once more. “Please be okay, Yoongi.”

«❦»

It was Friday night and tonight was the night Yoongi would perform his new solo song that would hopefully be on the new album. Namjoon and Hoseok were really worried though. Namjoon went into the studio this morning to try to look for something he’d forgotten, and Yoongi was still sitting there as though he hadn’t moved or even blinked since the night before.

Tonight, he looked like death, and the two younger members could tell. They wanted their manager to tell Yoongi to just go home and sleep and that they’d be fine without him, but Yoongi wouldn’t take it. He’d never missed a show, and was very diligent about that. No matter what was wrong, he attended every show and performed like it was the last he’d ever do. But tonight might be different. There was 15 minutes until the start of the show and the music was blasting throughout the venue, but Yoongi was still sound asleep on the couch backstage.

“He’s worked so hard for tonight. Can’t we just let him do this last show and then force him to go home and really sleep? Maybe even lock up the studio so he’ll actually sleep?” Hoseok tried to reason with Namjoon, and eventually he finally gave in. Only on the condition that he’d be escorted home immediately after the show.

Namjoon leaned down to wake up Yoongi, and the older male woke up almost instantly. “D- did I m- miss it?”

“No, we’ve got 10 minutes until we start. You might wanna get changed and grab your mic.” Namjoon said, looking up and down at Yoongis flannel and joggers. Yoongi quickly got up and went to grab an outfit consisting of his usual black and blue hoodie, black jeans, and black boots. Most of the fans liked this outfit on him, but others always wanted him to wear brighter colors. Either way, he wore what he wanted to wear, and went out on stage with his two best friends.

That night, during the show, Yoongi almost passed out on stage several times, but played it off as though he was completely fine. The only highlight for Yoongi, besides almost passing out in front of 600 people, was that everyone seemed to love his new song that he worked so hard on for almost 2 days straight. And there was also this very cute stranger who had the loveliest voice. They were performing a cover of a song, and Namjoon handed the mic to a crowd member, and Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks, looking over at the absolutely ethereal voice. It was a boy about college age, maybe a few years younger than Yoongi, and wow. He was just as beautiful as his voice.

There was a small meet-and-greet outside of the venue after the concert and that same boy was there, with a copy of their newest EP, and he wanted a signature from all the members. Hoseok and Namjoon were happy to sign it, but when the fan got to Yoongi, he stared straight into the younger males eyes. He saw the stars shining in them, like little sprinkles across a cupcake, they were strewn all across his eyes. But they were so beautiful. That was the only word he could use to describe this boy, was beautiful. He even made the mistake of saying it out loud.

“You’re beautiful.” He said, not realizing he’d said it out loud until Namjoon and Hoseok had started laughing at him, and the fans ears turned pink along with his cheeks.

“T- thank you… I love your songs by the way.”

“T- thanks…” Yoongi blushed more than the younger boy, but then he realized something. He took out his notepad from his back pocket, writing a few words down and ripping it out, handing it to the boy, upside down.

Hey so I’m writing a new song, would you mind featuring on it for vocals? You have a lovely voice. Here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

“Is this your way of asking me out?” The boy chuckled, and put the note in his pocket. “If so, sure. My name’s Taehyung, by the way.”

And that was where it all started for Yoongi.

Taehyung came over to the studio a couple days later, after calling Yoongi the day after the show. Unfortunately, Yoongi was asleep for once and didn’t hear his phone go off, but he quickly got back to Taehyung as soon as he woke up. They went over things about Yoongis style of producing and writing music over text shortly after Yoongi replied back to Taehyungs voicemail.

He liked to mostly work alone, making almost the whole song and beat, before presenting it to anyone else. Taehyung said he was fine with this, and that he’d come over whenever Yoongi was ready. Now, in the studio, Taehyung was being played the demo track, lyrics already recorded and beat polished all pretty with a bow on top. Taehyung really appreciated all that Yoongi was doing for him in terms of allowing him to finally show off his talents somewhere other than Instagram and Twitter.

But today was the day of recording, and Yoongi was absolutely entranced by Taehyungs heavenly voice. They recorded the same chorus parts and adlibs a few times with different inflections and pronunciation each time, then it was Yoongis turn. Compared to Taehyung, Yoongis voice sounded more like petrichor, which was still pleasant, but in a way all of its own. Taehyung couldn’t help but stare with admiration to the boy he’d been idolizing for years.

As Yoongi finished, he looked over at Taehyung, taking off his headphones and saying, “W- what? D- did I do s- some- something w- wrong?”

“No, I just love the way your voice sounds.”

“I l- like yours t- too.” For some reason, Yoongi hated his voice a little less whenever Taehyung complimented it, saying it was nice or soothing. For some reason, Yoongi felt a little less nervous around Taehyung, like he didn’t have to make up anything. Like he could just be himself.

“How come you stutter so much? You don’t have to answer, but as a fan I’ve always been curious.”

“I- I’ve always st- st- stuttered. I d- don’t kn- know w- why.”

“I think it’s kinda cute.” Taehyung smiled and giggled softly.

“Thanks…” Yoongi replied, walking over to his laptop, and beginning to edit. Taehyung waited a few minutes before he spoke again, somewhat scared he’d offended Yoongi in some way.

“Can I play some music?”

“As l- long as it’s n- not trash.”

“Aye-aye, captain!” He turned his phone and hooked it up to the bluetooth speaker in the studio, playing soft pop and underground acoustic artists. Underground artists were Taehyungs favorite, despite liking Yoongis rap trio. But they still counted as underground because they weren’t technically signed with anyone yet, and they paid for their studio themselves after years and years of saving.

“I l- like this. It’s n- nice."

“Thanks.” Taehyung winked, but Yoongi wasn't looking in order to see it. Taehyung smiled anyway, and went back to his phone.

Taehyung stayed there for a few hours just listening to music, occasionally stopping to hear Yoongi mumble lyrics to himself. Eventually it was getting dark and he had to get home. “I'll see you later, Yoongi. Thanks for asking me to do this.”

Yoongi simply nodded and mumbled a word or two. Taehyung wasn't offended because he knew Yoongi was in the zone, and probably wouldn't want to be bothered until he was done. He walked home and thought about how lucky he must be, after being a fan for so long and trying to get noticed by the members, now he was working with one of them on a track. How did this happen again?

This process continued for the next few weeks, as Yoongi was a bit of a perfectionist, but also because he was trying to get normal hours of sleep on a daily basis.

Taehyung knocked on the door and Yoongi got up to open the door. Taehyung smiled and said, “I brought food!” Yoongi smiled and looked down on his stomach, feeling it growl a bit at the smell of food.

“T- thanks. I didn't e- eat t- this mor- morning.” He said, sitting down on the couch next to Taehyung. Their hands brushed slightly as they both reached for the bag. Taehyung quickly withdrew his hand, but Yoongi stayed there for a second, feeling Taehyungs lingering touch.

Yoongi finally snapped out of it when he felt Taehyungs hand on his again, but this time, Taehyung intertwined their fingers together.

“I like you."

“W- what?” Yoongi couldn’t even comprehend what Taehyung had just said, but he tried to ignore it, pulling his hand away.

“Nothing.” Taehyung sighed, knowing he’d just said it out of nowhere and there really were no feelings behind it. But Yoongi didn’t know that. He thought Taehyung really meant it. He didn’t know what to do. He got up and saved his progress with the song and put his laptop in his bag and his notebook as well, leaving the studio, with Taehyung looking very confused and slightly upset.

«❦»

Days passed and Taehyung still hadn't heard from Yoongi. He was beginning to get worried. He tried going to the studio again, but every time he did, it wasn't Yoongi that answered. It was either Namjoon or Hoseok saying that Yoongi was “at home” or “out with a friend” or “visiting family”. Taehyung began to get the feeling that Yoongi didn't want him around.

One day, Yoongi is finally back at the studio, and working on something a little different this time. Taehyung raised his hand to knock on the door, but he wanted to listen before he made everything worse. It sounded a little more upbeat than most of his songs. It also sounded like there was mostly vocals in the song. It was obviously the demo, because it sounded like he couldn't hit them.

Taehyung then realized Yoongi had accidentally left the door open, so he let himself in as quietly as he could. Before he closed the door he said, “Sounds like it needs some better vocals.”

Yoongis head shot around to look at Taehyung. He wasn't expecting anyone besides Namjoon and Hoseok. “T- Taehyung. W- what a- are you do- doing h- here?”

“Listen Yoongi. I know what I said and did was inappropriate, but you don't have to push me away. I missed you, I missed working with you until late at night. I miss playing my favorite bands for you and you complimenting them and their lyrics.” He paused as he realized there were tears falling down his cheeks. “I miss you.”

Yoongi stood from his chair and walked up to Taehyung, not even missing a beat, he gently placed his lips onto the younger males. “I missed you, too.” They shared a long embrace and kissed once more, this time Taehyung expected it and kissed back.

“I'm so sorry, Yoongi.”

“I- it's alright.”

“You wanna record that new song you're working on?”

“Sure."

Taehyung smiled and put on the headphones and began singing. Yoongi fell in love, note after note. Line after line. He just couldn't resist Taehyung voice, personality, music taste, everything. He loved Taehyung, it was true and he couldn't deny.

As Taehyung finished the song, he asked, “Who did you write this for?”

Yoongi smiled and replied, “You.”

On the desk was a little notebook with the lyrics to the song, and a little doodle of Taehyung.

You’re the sun that rose again in my life

A reincarnation of my childhood dreams

I don’t know what these emotions are

Am I still dreaming?

There’s a green oasis in a desert

A priori deep inside of me

I’m so happy, I can’t breathe

My surroundings are getting more and more transparent

I hear the ocean from far away

Across the dream, past the woods

I’m going to the place that’s getting clearer

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

“You m- make me ha- happy, Taehyung.”

“Yoongi, I love you.”

“I lo- love you t- too, Tae- Taehyung.”

END.

[parkjmini]

dangerous waters (m) | pkjm

fratboy!jimin smut a sleazy fratboy thinks he could get any girl he wants, until he meets you word count: 2774 genre: smut SMUT!! SMUT!! S MU T  warning: sleazy jimin, dom!jimin, explicit language, oral

[a/n]: you’ve been warned!!! this is mature content read at own risk !! this is my FIRST smut EVER !! i apologize in advance if its super bad and super cringe like i have no idea wtf i was doing, i just wrote and props to ppl who write smut bc that shit is hard 

You had a huge biochemistry lab the next morning, a calculus test right after, and a literature lecture after bunch. Instead of studying for your classes and sleeping early, you were at some random fraternity party that your friend, Hoseok, dragged you to.

Parties weren’t ever really your scene. You were, a lack for a better term, a goody two shoes. You enjoyed staying in and reading. Cafes, libraries, and parks were your favorite places. You were an overall excellent student, almost top of the class with outstanding remarks. You studied whenever you had the chance to, it was the only way you were able to keep up with classes.

You weren’t completely cookie cutter though. Occasionally, you went to parties when workload was minimal and you didn’t despise frats/sororities. Some of your friends were in sororities and you usually went to their parties, not anyone you were unfamiliar with.

However, Hoseok begged you to join him at the campus’ most popular fraternity’s party. That specific frat had the cutest, hottest boys. They maintained the highest number of hook ups in one night and parties in one week. You avoided them at all cost because even though they were attractive, they were all assholes. 

Their parties were usually majority guys and a sprinkle of girls. You were extremely hesitant, but Hoseok wouldn’t stop messing up your lecture notes until you gave in.

“Geez, Hoseok. There are literally no girls here.” You whispered as you made your way to the kitchen. His laugh was barely audible over the heavy music they were playing. 

“They’re probably all upstairs..” He paused and pointed to the closed rooms. “In the rooms.” 

“That’s so gross.” You rolled your eyes and poured yourself a drink. Their fruit punch was spiked and you almost puked at the first sip. “This is gross.”

“Your tongue becomes numb after a few more sips.” Hoseok’s head darted towards the door. A small group of girls from the sorority down the street had entered. “Enjoy yourself, (Y/N).” He smirked before heading towards them.

“Hoseok---” It was too late. You lost your only friend to the crowd. Glancing around, you noticed that people were either drinking, smoking, or dancing. You weren’t really into any of that. You were regretting your decision of showing up.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist and spun you around. Your back was up against the side of the island in the kitchen. “Hey baby, I’ve never see you before. Is this your first time here?”

His brown eyes were eating you up as he scanned you from head to toe. You pulled the ends of your short dress down, trying to over up as much as your thighs as possible. “Yeah.” You mumbled.

He had a broad chest and his thighs were suffocating in his tight black pants. His arms were defined and bulged out of his white short sleeve. His hot body was pressed against yours and you tried to wiggle out of the tight space.

“I’m Jungkook.” He smiled. 

“And I’m leaving.” You lightly shoved him enough to get his body off of yours. 

“Oh, we’ll have fun. I promise.” His forearm trapped you to the island again. 

“You’re trying so hard, Kook.” Another boy laughed as he walked over and shoved Jungkook’s shoulder. He had fluffy black hair and soft cheeks. He was a little shorter than Jungkook, but shared the same thick thighs.

“Let’s see if you can get this one to budge, Jimin.” Jungkook chucked and walked off.

“How about you and I go somewhere quieter?” Jimin had the sexiest gaze. Something about him reeked of sex appeal. You had self control, however, and shook your head. “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone at a party like this.”

“You’re right. I should go. I have a lot of studying to do.” You scoffed. At this point, you didn’t care that you sounded like a complete loser. You just wanted to stop all these thirsty boys from mentally undressing you.

“Oh, you’re one of Dorm J girls.” Jimin smirked. How did he know what dorm section you lived in? “You girls are always the hardest to crack.” 

“What?” You almost choked as he ran his hand through his hair.

“How did you find yourself here, baby? They’re rarely ever at one of our parties. Did you come with a friend or did you lose yourself on the way to the study hall?” He was slowly getting on your nerves.

You crossed your arms and tilted your head, adding a little sass to your movements. “I don’t know what stigma your frat or you have against us, but we aren’t just nerds who study all night.” That was ultimately a lie. You knew if you weren’t here, you would be studying.

“Did I offend you? You girls are usually very easily riled up. Did you not do well on a test today?” You weren’t sure what bothered you more, the horrible smirk on his face or the sarcasm in his words.

“You’re a no good frat boy who parties all night and probably got in to college because you have money. Sorry that I’m actually smart enough to get in without daddy’s money.” You rolled your eyes the hundredth time that night. Your heart sank as you saw a curious eyebrow raise. He smiled and nodded knowingly.

“I like the way daddy rolls off of your tongue. That was vulgar, Dorm J. You were really looking to hurt me, weren’t you? How many more vulgar words can I get you to say to me?” He chuckled menacingly. You gasped, not expecting his type of response. A light pink dance across your cheeks as you could no longer put up your front.

“I-I have a name.” You stuttered, your nervousness getting the best of you.

His face brightened up at how small your voice had become, “I do too and I’d love to hear you moan it all night.” 

You cleared your throat at his foul language. You weren’t having any of it. If he said one more thing to you, you’d get too weak in the knees to even stand correctly. You weren’t sure what made him so charming and alluring. It might’ve been the way he was staring at you with his lust filled eyes or how he licked his plumped lips after he sipped his drink.

“Red is a nice color on you, babygirl.” His voice turned raspy and low. He was teasing your natural blush and your hands immediately cupped your cheeks.

“I’m not your babygirl or your baby. You don’t get to refer to me as Dorm J because I fit the stereotype you’ve created. My name is (Y/N) and I’d appreciate it if you treated me like a decent human being rather than a piece of meat.” 

“(Y/N).” Jimin had to say it in the most seductive way. Your heart quicken at how much you loved hearing him say it. “What a pretty name. I’m Jimin. You’re really hot when you yell at me. Were you a part of a debate team?” You were.

“M-Maybe. Why?” Your eyebrows knitted.

“Because... so was the last girl I hooked up with from Dorm J.” He snickered. You crossed your arms and began walking away.

He grabbed onto your elbow and lightly pushed you back against the counter. “Oh, (Y/N), take a joke.” 

“It wasn’t funny.” You grumbled, melting at his touch. 

“You know what is though?” 

You blinked up at his gorgeous face, his plump lips twitched into his signature smirk, “what?”

“That you were still talking to me. You obviously have interest in me too, baby, or you would’ve pushed me off like how you did to Jungkook.”

You gulped. You didn’t think he was that observant. A huge part of you wanted to give up and kiss him already, but the small voice in your head knew he was dangerous waters.

“Why don’t you go talk to some other girls? I’m boring Dorm J and I’m being difficult anyways.” You thought maybe he’ll actually back off this time. You were talking him to his senses.

He merely shook his head, his hands gripped your waist and pulled you closer to his pelvis. “You don’t understand, do you? I like a challenge. I want you. I can tell by the way your eyes keep darting that you want me too, so go ahead, (Y/N). Just kiss me. Show me what a good girl can do.”

His words were so convincing and you can no longer hold in the heat at the pit of your stomach. You dove in, attacking his lips passionately. Your hands were holding his small face as you devoured him.

His hands were eagerly pulling your waist closer towards him, trying to find any friction. You placed your hand on his chest when you felt his tongue enter your mouth. Pulling away, you ducked your head out of embarrassment.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, okay?” He picked up your chin, lovingly. His eyes were incredibly thirsting over you. Jimin lead you upstairs to an empty room. He locked the door and walked towards you.

“I barely even know your name..” You were beginning to doubt yourself, trying to find the small voice to save you.

“You’ll be very familiar with my name by the end of tonight. I won’t let you forget it.” He gently pushed you against the door. Distracting you with a kiss, his hand traveled down to slid your dress up your thighs.

He pushed the tight fabric up until it rested on your hips. He rubbed you through your cotton panties, causing you to squeal a little. His kiss drank up your inaudible noises. Your hands held onto his wrist when you started to feel yourself get wet. You hated how easily your body reacted to his touch.

“Let’s see how wet you really are.” He smirked and kneel down in front of you. His face directly facing your panties. You bit your lip, driving him crazy as you watched him slide your underwear off your hips. 

You were soaked, a string of your lubrication detached from the cloth as he pulled them down. A low growl came from the back of Jimin’s throat as he saw your pussy aching to be touched. “Fuck, baby. If I knew you were this wet, I would’ve brought you up sooner.”

He waited though, trying to see how much longer he could drag the anticipation. Jimin placed your leg over his shoulder and his face came close to your exposed flower. His hot breath panted over your clit as you groaned for him to do something, anything.

“What’s my name?” He asked, innocently. His big eyes waiting for your answer. Jimin ruined you before he actually touched you. You were like pudding in his arms and his sensual expressions killed you.

You licked your lips, and barely made out, “Jimin.” 

He pulled your skin taunt toward your waist and you shuddered a little. “The music’s too loud, I don’t think I heard you. Come again?” He teased. Jimin saw how desperate you wanted him. Your cheeks were flushed and your mouth was slightly gaped open. You stared down at him with hooded eyes and your hand had to grip onto the door handle.

You looked so hot and bothered, it took a lot of self control for him not to shove his face into you. “Jimin.” You said louder.

“What a good girl.” He mocked you, but you didn’t have enough strength to argue back. His tongue licked your clit once. Your body shook and he had to use his free hand to push your waist into the door. He repeated his motion, licking and sucking at your sensitive bud. 

The sensations drove you insane. Your clit was more exposed due to the fact that Jimin was pulling your skin taunt --- a tighter feeling. Your hips fought against the pressure of his hand and slowly grind more into his face.

He was watching you unfold right under his tongue. He moaned at the feeling of your hips greedy for more of him. He started to insert two of his fingers, curling up into you instantly.

“Jimin!” You gasped, the feeling at the pit of your stomach building. You pushed his head up into you more and his fingers quicken, pounding and curling inside of you. 

The more he continued, the closer you were to your high. Your eyes were shut at this point, ready to release yourself. However, Jimin wasn’t going to let you cum that easily. 

He removed his fingers and got up. His chin was covered in your lubrication and he shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. “Don’t you taste good, babygirl? Much better than that fruit punch downstairs.”

Jimin pushed you onto the full sized bed that sat in the middle of the room. He forced your legs open with his knee and settled between your legs again.

“Please, Jimin. Just let me cum.” You whined. A spark shined in his dark eyes and he kissed your inner thighs.

“Maybe. I mean you were being very difficult with me earlier. I don’t know if you deserve it.” He pouted and he held your legs further apart. You whimpered at his actions. “I love your little sounds, baby. Why don’t you call my name louder, so Jungkook can hear you downstairs.”

His tongue slipped into your dripping hole. “Fuck! Jimin!” You moaned and arched your back into the mattress. Jimin knew how to catch you off guard. His warm tongue drove you hysterical, causing your nails to dig into the sheets.

He savagely ate you out, as if he was starving. Jimin was excellent with his tongue, he knew how to work it. The thing pushing you to your edge were his stares though. He never broke eye contact when his face was bury into your pussy.

His orbs were dark and sexy, silently observing how he got you all worked up. His groans mixed with your airy gasps and the room grew hotter with every passing minute. He licked you up and down, flicking quickly at your throbbing clit. 

Jimin’s fit his fingertips into your hole, only allowing you to feel just enough. He pulled them all the way out, then aggressively back in. He repeated this motion, along with his rapid licks. “Uh, shit. Babygirl, you’re so wet for me.”

“I’m so-- close.” You exhaled sharply, your body shuddering at your approaching climax. At your warning, Jimin’s arms hook under your thighs and pulled you closer to his face. His nose was pressed up against your skin as you felt every hard, desperate lick. His hooded eyes watched your crumbling figure in front of him --- a new scene he couldn’t get enough of. 

“Cum, baby, ride my face. Let me taste how good you are.” Jimin chanted on and your hips shamelessly grind against his warm muscle. 

“I’m cumming, Jimin! Oh my--!” A beam of white blurred your mind as the intense pleasure began to rip through you. 

Your eyes were beginning to flutter shut, but he wasn’t going to allow that. “Look at me when you cum.” 

“Oh fuck.” You looked down at him, his face being squeezed between your shaking thighs. The sensations of his moving tongue rippled up your system and his brown eyes made you cum hard. 

You pulsated against him, your heat unraveling from a tight ball in your abdomen. The feeling of ecstasy and release exploded throughout your body, making it practically unbearable. You’ve never felt an orgasm that intense.

Jimin helped you ride out your high, until you absolutely couldn’t take the sensitivity anymore. He grabbed a napkin and wiped you up gently, an act that fluttered your heart a bit.

“That was fucking hot, I’ll admit.” He chuckled beautifully as he handed you your panties. Your eyes landed on the obvious tent in his pants and you cleared your throat.

“I guess I’ll get going now. I’ve got a lot of studying to do, right?” You taunted and pulled down your dress. Jimin let out another chuckle at your ridiculous attempt to mock him. 

However, you wanted to see him again and hoped that this ploy will get him to want to see you again as well. The dominance shifted, the tables have turned. 

“You owe me big time, Dorm J.” He groaned, a little mixture of sexual frustration and confusion. You seductively waved goodbye before joining the rowdy party again, leaving a rather flustered, yet aroused Jimin untouched. 

[a/n]: ok but forreal tho that gif is just so fitting w this im dying i love that gif || 

next part --> power trip

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 2X3 Bloodlust

Look I know Sam gets addicted to blood somewhere, is it here? or is that set up here?

I have said it every episode thus now, but the licensed fmv’s they’re making the previously ons are giving me such a good experience

FUN TIMES YALL OK LET’S GET ONTO THE ANGST OF THE DEAD DAD OR SOMETHING

ah lovely a Woman you know that means she's dead

OH MOTHERFUCKER SHE JUST GOT DECAPITATED

FUCKING YEAH BACK IN BLACK

O H M Y GOD THE SEROTONIN FROM HEARING THIS SONG

I’M LITERALLY FUCKING TEARING UP

NOPE I’M REWINDING IT I WANNA HEAR IT AGAIN

I do not much care for the zoom in on the car because I don’t care about cars but HOLY FUCK DO I LOVE THE SONG 

at least the impala’s back

Listen...Dean breaks the speed limit to AC/DC’s back in black....I break the speed limit to AC/DC’s back in black

look I’m not saying I kin him necessarily but it’s nice to feel seen

listen...Dean is...quite terrible...with people actually when he’s supposed to lie

I feel like he’s not as fine as he’s pretending to be, I feel like that’s the point

I saw this post where it’s like Dean’s bad with people, I feel like it’s more Dean can’t lie to save his life. He’s plenty charismatic when he wants to be

oho ho ho Fangs time

MORE VAMPIRE LORE FUCK YEAH

ah so they’re both acting a little bit off regardless of what they’re saying

the “lying to themselves” energy is on point

wait who’s the guy following them, I know that guy

I just realize they call their vampire related episodes a blood-related title(bloodlust, dead man’s blood), which is so funny

I KNOW THAT ACTOR HE WAS IN MAISEL?? THE AGENT?? I THINK

why does this man know so much about their dad

WHY DOES E V E R Y O N E Know about their dad, grow PAST him goddammit

STERLING K BROWN that’s his name

hey he’s a hunter too? that’s pretty cool

“Guys get out” Yes I’m sure they’ll do that

I do love how he just has a fucking sword

ok so attack the vampire, vampire fights back, Sam and Dean show up, showing they were Totally Justified to be the protagonists

well that’s a gruesome way to kill someone Dean what the fuck

AND he’s covered in blood great good job guys

I LOVE how this man talks, it’s very Smooth

pfft and Sam is gonna be a N E R D and be weird

to be fair, seeing your big bro decapitate someone like that is uh...well it’s a Lot

JOHN WAS TAKING HIM ON HUNTS AT 16 WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM

I do love the swap of stories, and I love how this guy has a WAY different backstory(couldn’t save sister, went on quest for revenge and left home, learned stuff on his own)

“took some terrible beatings” ??? J O H N ?? 

I hate John so much what the fuck

“Game face on” :( :( :(

“hole inside you, gets bigger”

this guy always gets these monologues doesn’t he

I mean he’s good at them but still

I love Ellen’s mom energy

...this guy....threatening vibes

the “no moral gray” is...scary

A H FUCK THEY JUMPED SAM IN HIS ROOM

that’s a cool shot with the dying sun+car

the teeth coming in was just...so animated

like it wasn’t scary it was just funny

look I know teasing them about their budget isn’t fair, but it’s fun

Sam please stop antagonizing the vampires, you’re currently being held captive

OH these vampires are morally grey, that’s the idea

why is the vampire’s name Eli

this Not Like Other Vampires is SENDING me

ah the “what is a hunter” debate

kill the non-humans

FINALLY some moral gray? like idk if I like how that works, but...something?

substitute for Dad... great they’re doing this now

OPE and DEAN PUNCHED SAM

LITErALLY ONE NORMAL WAY OF EMOTING

and Dean has to hotwire his precious car pfft

of course they’re both good at this dumbassery, their dad made sure of that at least

That’s about the least he did

All I can think about is Dean’s Demon Bf during this Sad Conversation

good for him(them?)

the music vaguely reminds me of Avengers

THAT FUCKIGN MUSIC STING WHEN HE SHOWS UP

IT’S THE DUMBEST MUSIC CHOICE EVER

...great a gratuitous torture scene...this is So Fun whee....

....ah and the morally complex character went and killed his sister

WHAT THE F U C K COME ON GUYS

THERE’S A WAY TO WRITE MORALLY GREY BUT NOT THIS

well taunting her like this is...super cruel...on so many levels

DAMN Dean changed his tune quick

AH “you’re a killer” I knew that brutal way to kill was gonna come back

and ending on a punch, I wish I could say I was surprised

“we can go” was so airy...boi

Sam vs Dean are actively wearing different types of clothes, that’s Nice Characterization

DAMN did Dean do a quick 180

“Dad wasn’t perfect” OH THANK GOD FINALLY

aw Dean sounds choked up

Aw and Sam says he’ll stay

aight wrap up: 

1. Did not like how complex characters got overwritten for Dean and Sam(but really Dean) to learn a lesson. That just...that was wasted potential my guy

2. And there are ways to do the moral grayness, but this felt just....shoehorned and done so quickly. I get that low budget, no time, etc but still, :/

3. I did like the addition to the world, until it got fucked up, and I do appreciate a lil moral complexity

4. plus good sibling shit at the end :)

yeah that’s all i got this time. this is certainly a show to exist

[porkchop-ao3]

Cop Rick is such a sweetie! I want to ruin him and leave him a stuttering mess. Making Miami jealous would be icing in the cake!

Yep… This is what I was hoping for. Enjoy :)

-

The Rick below me writhed, bucking up into my palm like a needy teenager, his breath hitching with each desperate grind of his hips. His usually neat and proper uniform now ruffled and disheveled as we ferociously made out on the sofa. He’d lost his vest, strewn somewhere near the front door of my apartment, and the top few buttons of his shirt were popped open; I was taking the opportunity to stroke my hand over his chest, my other hand was fondling the steadily growing bulge in his pants.

“Fuck, J-Jesus Christ. Th-this is not how I pictured my day going.” he said, short of breath once I broke away from the kiss. I looked him up and down, watching the brisk rise and fall of chest, the stuttered thrusts of his hips as I squeezed gently around his erection, and I licked my lips.

“No? You don’t look like you’re regretting anything, though.” I smiled wickedly, dragging my other hand down from his chest to the fasten of his pants; deftly unbuttoning them and tugging down the zip. I slipped my hand inside. Rick groaned and rolled his head back against the arm of the sofa.

“N-no. No regrets. B-but this is highly unprofessional. I-I-I hope it goes without saying, this has to stay between us. I could get into a lot of tr-trouble for this.” He told me, peeking up at me with a worried look. I rolled my eyes and began jacking him off slowly over his briefs. He made a strangled noise, swallowing hard.

“My lips are sealed.” I assured him. “Though I do wonder, how often do you accept sexual favors from people you catch smuggling illegal portal fluid?”

“N-never. I might as well jack myself off; I rarely have to deal with anyone other than a R-Rick.” He chuckled, staring down at my hand as I worked him. A wet spot formed on his briefs, and I decided to rid him of them. He lifted his hips for me as I removed his pants and briefs, and I smirked at what I saw. He was pretty thick, though I’d yet to meet a Rick who was in any way small. I’d been with a fair few Rick’s in my time, having lived on the Citadel, on and off, for a while with my own Rick.

Officer Sanchez was a rare one; rather kind and reasonable, a lot more tolerable, I could say. He’d been respectful even when he was cuffing me up and driving me to the station; though of course, I’d intervened before we’d had the chance to get there.

“Good point.” I smirked. “Anyway, as unprofessional as this may be; at least you won’t have any pesky paperwork to do. We can just let this whole thing slide, yeah?” I wrapped my hand around his length, keeping it still as I waited for a response. He seemed hesitant, a look of dilemma on his face.

“Yeah.” He finally said, nodding. “W-we can let it slide this once. But con-consider this a formal warning, portal fluid is strictly contr- unngh, shit!” He grunted, caught out by my sudden quick strokes.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” I sighed, scooting closer to him, sitting between his spread legs. I ran my free hand up and down his front, stroking over the folds in his uniform shirt. “You look good in this. I’ll hold my hand up and admit that I’m one of the many, many women out there that like a man in uniform.” I told him, watching his expression as it morphed into one of pleasure. He huffed out quick little pants, licking his lips and clutching the sofa beneath him.

“Y-yeah? Tell me, who-who’s your Rick? Is he an officer too?” He asked, glancing up at me. I snorted.

“You wanna talk about my Rick while I jack you off? Okay, whatever floats your boat.” I shrugged, and before he could protest, I continued. “No. My Rick is most definitely not an officer.” I laughed at the thought. I changed up my technique, twisting my hand around his shaft with each pump, applying more pressure on the tip. Rick cursed, his hips twitching.

“Fuck, y-you’re good at this. Re-really good.” He breathed out, matching my rhythm with the motion of his hips.

“I’ve had practice.” I divulged, leaning forward to press kisses over his chest, up to his neck. I noticed his iron grip on the sofa cushions, and chuckled. “You can touch me, you know.”

“Ok-kay.” He mumbled, hesitantly moving his hands up to my body, tracing them over my hips and waist. They eventually found their way to my breasts, and he squeezed them; surprisingly gentle for a Rick. I hummed in approval, letting go of him momentarily to lift my hands above my head. He looked at me questioningly for a moment before catching on, and lifting my top over my head. I unhooked my bra, baring myself to him. “You’re gorgeous.” He commented, and I smiled.

“Thank you.” I giggled, turning into a teenager all of a sudden. His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs rubbing circles around my nipples. I sighed appreciatively, bringing my hand back to his arousal. I jerked him off quickly, using my other hand to play with his balls; something I knew Rick’s were generally fans of. He moaned and squeezed harder at my chest, giving a particularly harsh thrust into my palm. I kissed him, pushing my tongue into his mouth and tasting him, every Rick had a slightly different flavor. At this point, I was quite the connoisseur.

I heard movements behind me, followed by a heavy sigh. I broke the kiss and spun around suddenly, heart hammering with surprise as my Rick wandered in from the other room. He was meant to be out.

“Je-jesus, I thought I heard- on the couch? Really? I-I sit there. Listen, sweetie, I have no issues with you having your fun, but you have a bedroom f-for a reason.” He grumbled, leaning up against the door frame, flask in hand. I gaped at him, hands stilling. Cop Rick jumped violently at the interruption, scrambling to cover his junk with both hands.

“Miami?” He spat, eyes widening. Miami chuckled.

“Oh, it’s you.” He said, strolling into the room and stopping just a few feet away from us. Cop Rick squirmed uncomfortably, flushing deep red. “Let me guess, you caught her smuggling my portal fluid?”

“I should have known you’d have something to do with this, I’ve never seen this chick before. Sh-she doesn’t strike me as a criminal mastermind; you, however…” he trailed off.

“He tell you he doesn’t usually accept sexual favours?” My Rick looked at me, and I nodded my head. He laughed heartily. “Oh, sweetie. He says that to all the smuggler’s.” He closed the gap between us, reaching a hand out to trail over cop Rick’s chest. I simply stared on in awe, wondering what the fuck I was witnessing.

“Get your hands off of me.” Cop Rick flinched, backing away from the unwanted touch.

“Funny. You didn’t s-say that last time I saw you.” Miami produced a wicked smirk, straightening up. He backed away, dropping down onto the armchair opposite us. I raised a brow at him. “As you were.” He shrugged.

“What, you’re just gonna watch?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t be the w-ugh-eirdest thing we’ve done. Come on, baby.” He encouraged, taking a swig from his flask. I looked at Cop Rick, and to my surprise I didn’t find a hint of reluctance in his eyes. I decided to take things up a notch, sliding back on the sofa and laying on my stomach between his legs. I gripped the base of his shaft, staring up at him as I boldly took him into my mouth. No teasing, no playing around. He grunted, cursing loudly as his hand flew down to my head. He stroked my hair, and I groaned at the attention. Having my hair played with always felt so good.

“Ohh fuck, th-that’s it.” He sighed as I began moving the tight ring of my lips up and down his shaft, slowly at first. I heard an appreciative groan from the other side of the room, and I just knew Miami was getting a kick out of this. The godamn cuck.

“Hey, y-you only ever do that to me when I ask- no, beg you. What gives?” I heard him say, and I pulled off of the officer long enough to answer.

“'cause you always try to fuck my throat too hard.” I deadpanned, getting back to work, running my tongue along the underside before rolling it over the tip, staring up at the man above me who gritted his teeth and bit back a groan.

“Nah, you love having my cock ram-rammed down your neck. D-don’t pretend.” He quipped back, voice low and seductive. I rolled my eyes and didn’t dignify it with a reply. “Tell me. You love it.” He added, more ferocity to his tone. I turned to look at him with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sort of busy here, Rick. You wanna watch, go ahead. But don’t keep interrupting.” I snapped, glaring at him. He was jacking himself quickly, and despite my irritation I couldn’t help but enjoy the sight. I turned back to cop Rick. “I’m sorry about him, baby.” I cooed, stroking my hands up and down his bare thighs as I mouthed him again, pressing soft kisses up and down his shaft. I heard a ‘tut’.

“God, look at you. Y-y-you’re fucking worshipping it.” Miami said in distaste, and the officer gave satisfied chuckle.

“What’s up, M-Miami? You aren’t getting j-jealous are you?” Cop Rick said, glancing over at the man in question. I saw his eyes scroll up and down over his body, and wondered just how much he’d seen of it before. I took his cock to the back of my throat, holding it there and humming around it, reducing him to a quivering mess above me. He let out a loud shaky breath. “Ohh yes, that’s g-good. You’re s-so good baby.” He told me, petting my hair, his fingers combing through the strands.

“Jealous? Wh-why would I be? She might be suck- sucking you off right now but she’s still my girl.” Miami replied, his voice audibly strained. I picked up the pace, moving up and down the shaft in my mouth and sucking rhythmically. Rick half groaned-half laughed almost deliriously, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling. If I could have smiled, I would. The man looked completely wrecked.

“Y-yes an-and she’s doing a fine job of it too. My g-god.” He chuckled, his hips jumping occasionally. I slid my hand up his body, caressing his torso while I wrapped my other hand around the base of his cock, moving it in tandem with my mouth. “Mm, g-good girl. You’re gon-gonna ma-make me cum.” He told me, his voice trembling and his stutter surfacing. It spurred me on, and I moved quicker, took him in deeper.

“That fast? Hah- fuck… you’re a real st-stallion.” Miami said breathlessly, but I could tell my the tone of his voice that he was close too; the hypocrite.

“Oh fuck. P-please.” The Rick above me groaned. I didn’t know exactly what he was pleading for, but it seemed to coincide with my hand brushing over his nipple. I gave a tentative stroke over one of the nubs, rolling it under my middle finger. The contact sent a shiver through him. “Yes! Y-yeah, k-keep- don’t st-stop. Gonna cum.” He nearly shouted, his hips raising up from the couch, not thrusting; just following the contact.

“Yeah, f-fill her up. D-do it, rookie.” Miami chuckled darkly behind me, and with that, I felt the cock in my mouth twitch and pulse, and I swallowed down the thick load he gave to me. All the while the man above me was reeling out broken, incoherent sentences and breathless moans, and I gotta say; I might have been the hottest orgasm reaction I’d had from a Rick. I worked him down slowly, pulling every last drop of his climax onto my tongue with extreme satisfaction. When I finally let his softening length drop from my mouth, the guy looked absolutely spent. I gave him a cheeky grin, to which he responded with a dopey, post-orgasmic smile.

I glanced over at Miami, who at some point had painted white stripes up the front of his shirt. He stared at me intently, a lingering look of lust in his eyes. After a moment, he rose to his feet and approached me, grabbing me by my arm and pulling me up from the sofa. He leaned in close.

“You-you’re gonna suck my dick till I get hard again, then I’m gonna fuck you in your tight little snatch. S-sound about right to you?” he said, voice deep and possessive. I nodded my head obediently, and he smiled. “Great. Y-you can fuck off, you can find your own way out, r-right?” He said passively to the cop as he dragged me off towards his bedroom.

“S-sure.” He replied, still looking as if he were on another planet. I giggled at my handwork, gaining a rough pull from my Rick in response.

[moonm0chi]

Life Imitates Art

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut / Fluff / Angst (?)// Sub(ish)!Jungkook/ Art Student!Jungkook

Warnings:  graphic language/dirty talk, oral, cum play (if that’s what you’ll call it), masturbation, SLIGHT sub/dom dynamic

Word Count: 10.3K (bc I don’t know what pwp is)

Summary: A friendly favor for your crush develops into something truly sinful when you figure out his muse for his exhibition. 

a/n: only lightly edited b/c it’s 1:30 AM HAHA....this wasn’t supposed to be sub!(ish)JK but idk it just worked; still feel like I’m struggling w/ writing steamy dialogue but oh well. Enjoy! More work to hopefully come, slowly but surely. Please send feedback it’d be greatly appreciated!!! 

You grumbled all the way to the art gallery, adamant in your opposition to being dragged there by your roommate.

“Shut up, we’re already here. Are you going to brood the whole time?” Liz glared at you before pushing the glass doors open.

You’d pouted, clearly having lost the battle a long time ago. You settled on folding your arms defensively and letting out one last exasperated sigh. “Fine, but I still don’t know why you brought me here to begin with.”

Liz’s eyebrows shot up at the absurdity of the question, “You haven’t left the house for anything besides work and the occasional run. You’re starting to get boring, where’s fun Y/N?”

Her words only made you pout further because she was completely right-like most of the time despite your inability to admit it to her.

“Plus,” She continued, “this art show is actually showcasing some of the students pieces.”  

Now it was your turn to raise your eyebrows, “Liz...are you saying that you’re being showcased tonight?! Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked shocked your roommate and closest friend hadn’t told you the good news sooner.

“Well I had wanted it to be a surprise. But it’s only one of my pieces- you know that one of the piggy bank and cut up body pieces being put into it to sho-”

“Yea I know the one.” You’d quickly cut her off before she went on a rant about politics and the economy that you really couldn’t have cared less about.

She rolled her eyes and just dragged you further into the gallery. But somehow in between rooms you’d lost her to the other art students that flocked to congratulate her showcase- a small victory for any struggling art student.

Your rounds through the various rooms brought you to stand in front of one particularly plain portrait. It was a boy clearly standing in front of a mirror but everything that reflected back was dissimilar to what lay beyond the reflection. You scratched your head absentmindedly, racking your brain for what someone could possibly mean to convey with this.

“Alternate realities.” You mumbled, coming to an absurd conclusion. Your imagination ran too far with the image, ignoring the symbolism behind each brush stroke.

“You’d be surprised at how many people have actually said that.” A voice chirped behind you.

You jumped at the intrusion of another voice in the otherwise fairly empty room before turning around. What you’d describe as the typical art student was looking back at you, an amused look written on their face.

You cleared your throat, “So what does it actually mean?”

You folded your arms waiting for an answer. While he formulated a response you took the time to give him a once over. His brown mop of hair was tousled, with hints of pink highlights that had began to fade. He wore circular glasses, and simple white t-shirt with tight black jeans. You tried not to gawk in surprise at the muscularity of his thighs.

He pursed his lips before finally responding, “Life isn’t always as it seems.”

You looked on at him with a doubtful stare, “It took you that long to figure that out?”

He chuckled, “That’s the summarized version….in my opinion.”

You continued to stare in disbelief, “But doesn’t life imitate art?

“At first, art imitates life. Then, art becomes so beautiful life imitates it. But you’ll have to speak with the painter himself if you want any real answers.”  He smirked, his answer made your head spin.

You turned back to the painting and studied it harder believing that if you stared long enough it might reveal its secrets to you.

“The guy must be a cynic, always seeing the worst.” You mumbled while you squinted harder at the painting.

The loud laugh made you watch out of the corner of your eye as Pink Highlights stood next to you now, a wide smile on his face but it irked you, seeming insincere. You studied his side profile, his sharp jawline, long eyelashes, a scar on his cheek. You internally agreed that he was pretty cute for a snobby art student.

His laugh ended with a sigh, “Yea, I guess you’re right. 

And before you could ask further, Liz ran to your side pulling you from your debate. You turned to her, she was buzzing and a huge smile engulfed her face. 

“Y/N you won’t believe it...someone actually wants to buy my painting!”

She’s gripped your shoulders tightly and you smiled back at her good news, “Liz, oh my god..I- that’s so amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

You brought her in for a tight hug. You both giggled, bubbly with excitement.

“We’re going out to celebrate!” She exclaimed and for once you didn’t protest.

Pink Highlights is congratulating her too with a gentle hand on her shoulder. She smiled back warmly with a polite ‘thank you’ and he quickly exited the room.

“Who was that?” You asked.

“Who? Oh, Jungkook?” Liz replied, “He’s a student here...actually...that’s his self-portrait.” She pointed to the piece that’d you been standing in front of with said artist not too long ago.

Your insides buzzed with the new found information. “He didn’t tell me he painted this though.” You said furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

She smiled sheepishly, a sad tint washing over her face, “It might be because he hasn’t painted anything new for a several months. Apparently he’s so uninspired he’s just been re-painting old pieces.”

You nod, biting your lip feeling only slightly guilty for the way you argued with him about the meaning behind the painting. But you had little time to dwell on the thought of the cute and troubled artist before Liz dragged you out into the night air and to the nearest bar for celebratory drinks.

 You’re at the bar, 3 vodka sours deep having a grand old time watching Liz try and flirt with a grad student in her department when your eyes catch a flash of pink. They traveled to a baby pink bomber jacket. You scrunched your eyes in the dimly lit bar before an excited smile flashes across your face.

You jumped off the barstool and shuffled over to Pink Highlights.

“Hey Pinky.” You gently poked him to grab his attention.

He turned his head toward you and a look of amusement washed over his face.

“I highly doubt that you still don’t know my name. 

You rolled our eyes, “J-Jing...no...kook was somewhere in there.” You said making a last ditch effort to remember his name.

His amused face is replaced with a quirked eyebrow as he watched you decipher his name.

“Okay, please stop butchering my name.” He pleaded at your futile attempts.

“Can I call you Kookie?” You asked jokingly but he just shrugged his shoulders, indifferent to the nickname.

You settled into the chair next to him, “Not that you asked, by I’m Y/N.”

You had your head leaning on your palm while you studied his face. The three vodka sours making you a little more comfortable with passing your eyes indiscreetly over his features.

“You’re staring Y/N.” He stated, turning his head towards you again.

“You look nice in pink...but, that’s not why I’m over here despite what you might think.” You quipped.

He rolled his eyes but the smile tugging at the corners of his lips told a different story. He looked at you, waiting for you to speak.

“That painting...that painting was yours. Why didn’t you say anything? And what does it really mean?” You asked eagerly leaning towards him.

He furrowed his brow and his jaw tensed, “It’s a shitty painting, I don’t want people to know me for something like that.” The disgust was evident in his voice as he spoke about his work.

He paused, watching you watch him before he continued, “And the meaning I gave you back at the gallery still stands -  everything isn’t as it seems, it’s usually a lot more fucked up than you think.” He chuckled darkly reminiscing over memories that you didn’t have the luxury of knowing.

“Man...you’re so bitter. What did the world ever do to you, you’re only 21.” You proposed the rhetorical question, and wondered to yourself before you posed your next question, a glint of suspicion on your eye.

“Who did this to you?”

The look on his face, a flash of surprise, anger, and then melancholy told you that you had hit the nail right on the head. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and folded his arms defensively 

“M-my girlfriend...ex-girlfriend.” He started and the look you gave him told him you were expecting more details before you left the topic alone, “we were together for 3 years...and she- she uh- cheated on me for over a year we were together with my best friend.”

You softened when you saw his eyes dim with sadness. You hadn’t expected sadness, you thought he’d be angry at the world or someone not...heartbroken.

You shifted uncomfortably, “So you painted that?”

He nodded, still looking sadly down at the table, “About 6 months ago, the one in the gallery is a duplicate.”

You huffed, feeling angry that he wasn’t, “So why hasn’t your rage and hate fueled some more paintings...I don’t get it.”

He shot his eyes up to yours and looked at you, a mixture of frustration and confusion stared back at you, “Because…I can’t hate them...I loved them both..I just- I can’t hate them alright. And besides I don’t have to explain myself to you!” He defended himself.

Your curiosity peaked but his defensive stature told you that he wasn’t going to be so loose with his personal life with you. You were tired, physically, mentally, and of this conversation that you clearly saw wasn’t going to go anywhere 

You got up and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, “You should start painting again soon, it was a good painting. See you around Pinky. 

Liz laughed while you told her about your chat, reprimanding you for being so bad with names. In your defense, Pinky was much more memorable.

But as fate would have it, you’d be learning and remembering his name a lot sooner. Your best friend’s car had broken down and it was now your job to pick her up from the shared studio she rented with other students on the other side of campus.

You parked the car and walked up the 2 flights of stairs to the open studio. Tarp lay haphazardly over the linoleum floor and tapestries hung as separators for each artists space. You carefully walked through looking for your friend, trying your best to leave the other students undisturbed.

“Y/N, that you? I’m over here.” You heard Liz yell from the farthest corner of the studio.

You walked toward her when a familiar mop of hair catches your attention. You smiled mischievously and pulled back the tapestry 

“Pinky!” You exclaimed and watched his head just barely poke from the top of the easel. He sighed exasperatedly when he saw you 

“It’s Jungkook.” Was all he said before he dipped his head back to his easel.

You studied the partially painted canvases all around him, all dark blues, reds, blacks- it looked like someone spat melancholy straight onto the canvas. You refrained from mentioning the paintings, sensing that he’d be sensitive to any teasing about his works.

“I didn’t know you painted here.” You said

“I usually don’t but the smaller studio I use downstairs is being used for a photography project, there are weird props everywhere and it creeps me out.” He grunted not even sparing you a second glance.

You nodded silently, continuing your snooping until Liz told you she was ready to go. 

“See you around Pi-Jungkook.” You smiled, satisfied with your remembrance of his name. Out of the corner of your eye you swore he smirked.

With project deadlines creeping closer, you found yourself picking Liz up almost 5 days a week, which to you meant more time to bother Jungkook who had finally started to warm up to you. And you’d be lying if you said that staring at him was a boring pastime. You’d most certainly developed a small crush on him but chalked it up to the frequency you were seeing him.

And it’s one day when you’re casually talking, splayed out on the crumpled tarp that he brings up how he’s finally come up with his end of term project proposal.

“Kookie that’s great!” Genuinely happy that he’s fought through some of the painters-block that’s been hanging heavily over his shoulders. You propped yourself on your elbows and looked towards the easel he sat behind.

He poked his head to the side, a half hearted smile on his face.

“But since it’s so close to the deadline, I can’t get a model, let alone pay them.” He huffed, explaining his road block.

You smiled and bit your lip, “I mean I could help you, I’m always around anyway. Might as well help out if I’m going to be in your space.”

And you swore that your heart stopped the second he looked at you. It’d been the first time a genuine smile lit up his face, the first time you’d gotten a look at his bunny teeth and to watch the light in his eyes flicker on. Your head buzzed and heart sped up at the way heat flooded your body. You smiled back even bigger, happy you were the reason for that look.

“You really wouldn’t mind? I just need you to pose for me with some props so I can get some rough sketches.” He explained enthusiastically trying to convince you.

But you’d been sold the second he had said he needed help.

“Seriously Kookie it’s not a big deal, all my finals are presentations and group projects so I’ve got time to spare.” You chuckled at the excited look on his face.

“So is there like a certain look or something you’re going for?” You asked laying your head back down on the tarp.

“The seven deadly sins.” He replied and your imagination ran wild at what he’d make you do. A blush settling across your face when you realized Lust was one of the sins. You had opened your mouth to start discussing with him but Liz interrupted, a smirk and a knowing look on her face.

“Bye Kookie.” You stood up and gathered your bag, taking out your car keys 

“Oh wait, can I have your number, I want to text you if I need you to bring something and what time to meet me.” He quickly scrambled to his feet.

You exchanged numbers, heart swelling with the thought. So maybe your crush was a little bigger than you let on but no harm if that’s all it was.

Liz eyed you while you both walked to the car, “Falling for the broken artist....I’m shocked.” She said, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

You jabbed her with your elbow, hoping the blush creeping up your face wouldn’t be a telltale sign that she was right.

“Shut up, I’m just helping with his project. Because that’s what friends do.” You retorted and just got an eye roll back.

“Mmmhmm, and I pose for all my friends when they ask too. You’ve never even posed for me.” She said matter-of-factly to which you mumble a “you’ve never asked…” but you knew she had and that you’d rejected multiple offers.

And despite how boring posing seemed to you in the past, you couldn’t help but feel excited when you knew you’d get to spend more time with Jungkook.

It was going well, even though his eyes on you had heat flaring to your cheeks like a hormonal teenager. You’d gotten through three sins (Greed, Sloth and Gluttony) and he’d told you to meet him in the studio so you could start on Pride 

You’d realized how different Jungkook was when he actually was focusing on something. He pinched his lips together and furrowed his brow deeply.

He didn’t like to talk when he was fully immersed in something so you usually sat in silence, and sometimes studied his mannerisms. He seemed to sigh a lot, he was very hard on himself and you were sure there were more crumpled up sketches that littered the floor than “good” ones after the end of one session. But you liked how passionate he was. The way his hair fell while he bent over his sketch book. The way he mumbled words to himself or absentmindedly scolded you when you moved from being tired. It was a side you felt lucky to see. It was his own kind of vulnerability.

But while you waited in the dimly lit studio another student you sort of recognized, Namjoon you think his name was, pulled the tapestry back and looked at you curiously 

“Oh, didn’t think anyone was still up here.” He stated and you quickly got up from where you sat. You’d been waiting about 45 minutes by now and it was unusual. Jungkook would text you if he was going to be late or if the session would have to be postponed.

“Uh..do you know where Jungkook is?” You asked

He pondered on your questions before he answered, “I think he’s in his studio downstairs. If you’re going down there can you tell him to lock the building up.” He threw you a pair of keys before turning to leave 

You gripped the keys tightly before exiting the studio and walked the flight of steps down. The hallway was dark except for the window at the end that gave off eerie light from the street lamps and the neon sign from a Chinese restaurant. You silently shuffled through the hall, unaware of which was Jungkook’s. You tried each knob until one finally twisted open. 

He must’ve heard the door open because it was mere seconds after you’d stepped through the doorway that a sketchbook was being thrown your way, and not in a warm fashion. It hit the wall right by your head and you jumped, scanning the room for the body that projected it towards you. You walked further into the room only pausing to listen for any sign of life.

“Go away.” You heard Jungkook say grimly.

“Ju-Jungkook? Are you okay?” You asked cautiously.

He chuckled darkly, “Do I seem okay...I doubt it.”

You finally saw him, slumped in the far corner of the room hidden behind a multitude of different sized canvases. Under your feet you saw crumpled pieces of papers, either with holes in them or huge X’s drawn through the sketch.

You swallowed nervously, “What-what’s wrong.”

A sigh and a groan before he answered,  “I hate it all.” The shrill sound of paper ripping sent a shiver down your spine 

You felt your stomach drop, was he saying you weren’t a good enough model. You averted your gaze from his figure and scanned the room. You could see a plethora of paintings with the same girl- different poses, background, and facial expressions but nevertheless it was always the same girl. A pang of jealousy fired through your body. And then anger.

How could he still have so many paintings of his ex when she had cheated on him. You were angry that her face was good enough to produce painting after painting but you could barely help him get through one good sketch before he tore it to shreds.  

You stood there angry at him for no plausible reason which made you even angrier. You huffed and folded your arms. His eyes finally found yours and he quirked his head to the side 

“Why do you look mad?” He asked before his eyes widened like he was coming out of a haze and he checked his phone. Guilt washed over his face, “Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t text you, I just got so angry that I forgot….”

You nodded and turned on your heal. Jealously still pulsed through you and your heart quickened when he grabbed your wrist.

“Wait,” He started looking at the floor before back up at you and biting his lip. You bit your own lip and looked at him expectantly. Hoping he’s say something to ease the heaviness that had started to form in your stomach.

“Can I text you tomorrow about when to meet up?” He asked giving you a small smile and your wrist a reassuring squeeze.

You rolled your eyes, scolding yourself for hoping for the impossible. You rolled your eyes, a small, curt smile plastered to your face accompanied by a nod before you ripped your hand from his grasp and walked out. He stared in confusion and perked up when you came back into the room, hopeful you’d explain your irritated mood. But his face dropped when you just chucked him the set of keys Namjoon had handed you.

And you didn’t even wait for him like you usually did.

After that you tried your best to keep the sessions as professional as possible, saying a polite “hello” and “where do you need me?”, not even attempting at your usual small talk that ended in Jungkook grunting in annoyance before either completely ignoring you or mumbling a “shut up I need to concentrate.”

You’d sit still, mostly mulling over your own thoughts, trying to distract yourself from his intense gaze and the bubbling annoyance at your own stupidity for liking this guys. As soon as he’d relax from his hunched position and place his sketch book on the floor, indicating he was done for the day, you’d be quickly gathering your belongings and making a beeline towards the exit.

The pattern repeated itself until you got a text from Jungkook:

Hey, instead of the studio come to my house to model.

 and bring lingerie if you have any

Your cheeks flared up at the text but you knew it was only because today he’d be sketching you for Lust but it didn’t keep your thoughts from wandering.

And when you arrived at his house, punctual to the second, his eyes lite up in surprise before smiling fondly at you. It always seemed he was genuinely shocked whenever you showed up. You relaxed under his smile just a little at the welcoming look in his eyes. You followed him to a spare room 

He began to explain the look he was going for and so you followed his instructions until he mumbled, “Did you bring lingerie?”

You turned 10 different shades of red as you nodded shyly. He turned around even though he was about to see you in your bra and underwear in a matter of seconds anyway- your heart nonetheless swelled at the kind gesture. But it was also pounding so hard I’m sure once he started to draw you he’d notice 

You stripped, wearing a red lacey bra and panty combo that’d you bought on a whim once during the Victoria’s Secret semi-annual sale but never had the opportunity to show off. And you admit, you jumped at the chance to use it.

You laid back down on the blanket that Jungkook had previously put on the floor.

“J-Jungkook..you can turn around now.” You stared at the ceiling way too embarrassed to look at him. If he was feeling any type of emotion towards your exposed body you felt blessed you didn’t have to see it, afraid his eyes would pass over you in harsh scrutiny.

“Okay, lift your arms above your head...good. And arch your back slightly.” You followed the requests. You stayed perfectly still except for your hammering heart. And it may have been 30 minutes before he cleared his throat and sounded his next request, shy for the first time since you’d started posing for him.

He sighed, pausing to choose his words carefully but then choosing the blunt route nonetheless, “Do you think you could pose naked?”

You look at him for the first time since you’d stripped to your undergarments, a look of disbelief at the questions he had just posed. You swallow thickly, biting you lip as you debate with yourself 

“Look, if you’re uncomfortable with it I could just use old sketches for ref-”

“No, I-uh..I’ll do it.” You hastily replied a wave of jealousy washing over you at the thought of him using his ex's “nudes” to help with his project when he had a perfectly viable girl in front of him 

He nodded and got up, “I need to go get something...uh take your time.” He smiled awkwardly before exiting the room.

You wrung your hands together anxiously, still horrified at the situation you’d just put yourself in. You don’t know how long you’d been lost in your own thoughts of doubt and worry when Jungkook came back to the room.

“Oh..” He said ready to leave again to give you privacy to undress. But you held your hand up stopping him, what was the point he was about to see you naked no matter if he was in the room or not 

You gulped, conscious of his eyes on your figure. You turned your back to him in an attempt to feel less shy. You unhooked your bra and threw it towards the rest of your clothes that sat in a pile by your feet. You squeezed your eyes shut as you quickly took your panties off next and threw them into the same pile. Hugging your arms over your exposed chest you kept your eyes on the floor as you laid back down 

Staring at the ceiling, with your arms still over your chest, legs clenched together tightly in the hopes it’d make you feel less naked you said, “How do you want me?”

It took a few seconds before Jungkook answered sluggishly, clearing his throat, “Same as before.”

You shyly lifted your arms up to the positing before and arched your back again. 

“So...I’m going for a post-sex sort of look...I’m going to spray you with this water…you know to look like sweat. I want to make sure I can draw the sheen of sweat correctly” He said to which you quickly nodded, past the point of embarrassment, completely lost in the shock at what you were doing. The shit you did for this kid, he was lucky you’d become so smitten with him.

You gasped at the feeling of the cold mist over your body from where Jungkook sat. You heard the chair scrape and suddenly Jungkook was standing over you with the spray bottle, wetting your chest liberally.

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry it’s so cold, I should’ve waited for the water to warm up a little.”

You try your best to feign indifference but a small hiss as the cold water hits your warm skin gives you away. You made eye contact for the first time and fought back your embarrassment to smile at him. If you weren’t so delirious with the overall heightened sensitivity you were feeling would’ve notice the slight flush across his face for sure when he smiled back.

Once he was satisfied that you looked like you had enough post sex “sweat” covering you he began sketching. This time you snuck glances at him, his stare was getting you heated in all the wrong places and your legs began to tremble ever so lightly from clenching them together so tightly.

You glance back at Jungkook and see his brow furrowed, a tell-tale sign of his concentration before he’s pausing to look back at you, you flush at the sudden eye contact. He tugs his lower lip in between his teeth before giving you a look that you weren’t familiar with.

“This is going to sound weird but could you look like you’re..feeling good or something.” You realize the face in a mix of bashfulness and worry that you’ll deny his request.

You stiffen, not exactly sure how to comply with the request. Shyly, overwhelmingly self conscious of his eyes on you, you toss your head back and your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you try to feign a look of pleasure.

“You look like you’re in pain.” He stated matter of factly

You sighed in frustration, lowering your stiff arms from their previous position above your head, “Well it’s hard to actually do when I’m not actually feeling anything. It’s kind of a heat of the moment feeling” You mumbled 

You relaxed your body and propped yourself up on your elbows, the initial awkwardness of being naked slowly fading the longer you laid there. Despite the lack of pleasure you were currently feeling, you were feeling aroused. The beads of water slowly rolling down your chest, the cool air flowing through the room making your nipples hard. You were certainly feeling like Lust.

He pondered on your statement before he answered like it was the most obvious remedy to the predicament, “Why don’t you just touch yourself then?”

Your eyes widened to the side of golf-balls, “What?!” shocked he even had suggested you do something so intimate in front of another person. But deep down, in the back of your mind, you secretly hoped he’d keep asking knowing that you’d eventually bend to his pleads.

He quirked his eyebrow looking completely serious at the suggestion and your own resolve is starting to crumble under his gaze. You really didn’t think you could feel anymore exposed to Jungkook but he had completely shattered that assumption.

You licked your incredibly dry lips and darted your eyes around the room at a loss for words, wanting to say yes but your pride keeping you from doing something so shameful in front of another.

“If you want,” Jungkook began shifting in his seat, the long white button down pulling at his torso, “I could turn around until you’re comfortable, you know...until you get into a rhythm or something?”

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, and you sighed knowing you’d take the bait. You nodded timidly watching as he spun around. You bit your lip as your hand traveled down to your core, not surprisingly you were already wet from both the stimulus from the water bottle and Jungkook’s intense gaze.

You closed your eyes and tried to relax as you began to fondle your breast in one hand and slowly circle your clit with the other. You imagined Jungkook’s’ broad back that was mere feet from your body, and the provocative vulnerability you felt under his gaze.

It was a slow pleasurable build and you weren’t sure when he’d finally turned around but when your hooded gaze swept up to his figure, he was gazing at you just as you dipped one finger into your wet heat. You ministrations stuttered and he gently goaded you on, “Keep going, just like that. 

He sporadically would praise you, the edge of your orgasm too close to even think of stopping now. You’d let out a breathy moan every once in a while or a whimper when you dipped a second finger in an curled it against your g-spot. You were sure to bite your lip if you felt you were going to moan his name, sparing you some shame.

“Just a little longer.” Jungkook could be heard distantly as your head swam in pleasure.

“Ju..ah..kook...go-gonna…” You managed to choke out.

You were so close you could taste it. Your head flung back, your eyes squeezed shut and real sweat began to coat your chest, back and face. You could feel a flush spread across your face and an intense heat build in your abdomen.

He breathed a sigh of relief, clearly having finished whatever he’d been manically sketching 

“Okay, go ahead.” He assured you and you didn’t know you’d been waiting for his approval until those words were spilling from his lips. Those words were music to your ears as you eagerly felt your orgasm wash over you. You chased the high for as long as you could before you relaxed back into the blanket 

He left the room while you recuperated from the intense orgasm coming back with a warm washcloth that you took with a small smile before wiping your sweaty forehead, hands and slick thighs. Shakily, you stood up and began re-dressing. Feeling the tangible awkwardness in the room you still managed to make small talk.

“So, when’s the exhibition?” You asked pulling your jeans up.

“Uuh 2 weeks.” He answered. You saw how antsy he was and you frowned inwardly at how fast he was leading you out the front door once you were fully clothed 

“Okay, I’ll see you-” But the door was already closed having heard Jungkook mumble a lackluster “Goodbye.”

“Around”.” You finished to the closed door.

The next two weeks passed painfully slow. And despite Jungkook had never texted you outside asking for times that would work for modeling sessions, you’d hoped he text you and ask your opinion on some of the pieces he’d been making for the exhibition considering you were the model.

But your hopes were doused when not a single text came your way from anyone besides your mother and Liz. She’d told you that she had met someone and that she’d be getting rides from him to the studio. You were happy she’d finally been successful with the grad student but now all you did was sulk around your apartment. All your friends were slowly being paired off and you were becoming more and more lonely not realizing how much time Jungkook had taken up these past months.

And after his curt attitude the last time you’d met you were positive that your crush was nothing but one-sided. Honestly you weren’t even sure he’d use your poses as reference for the project he’d been working on after his temper tantrum in his studio. The thought made a pit form in your stomach and the uncalled for jealousy flash through you whenever you thought about it.

By the time the exhibition for the students had come around you were actually dreading it, not wanting your desires to be shattered. You didn’t want to know that he’d decided to use past references for all his paintings. Or to see him ignoring you. You missed his smile, his cute bunny teeth, that scar on his cheek, his stupid hipster pink highlights.

“You’re kidding me! You posed stark naked for this kid and you’re not even gonna go see his paintings?” Liz reprimanded you.

You winced at the memory, only slightly regretting telling her that you’d posed naked for him. To which she laughed saying, “Damn you got it bad, didn’t even ask you on a date and you’re already getting naked for the kid.”

You’d blushed at her teasing words and although you didn’t disclose it to her, that’d probably been one of the hottest orgasms of your life. It made your little goody-two shoes self feel dirty in the best way. You often found yourself daydreaming about his gaze on you resulting in a throb between your thighs.

“What if he doesn’t even use me for his paintings?” You addressed your doubts to her out loud.

She sighed, used to your self doubt by now. “Hun, I doubt he’d have made you keep coming back to pose for the last 2 months if he wasn’t going to use them.”

Her matter of fact tone instilled some confidence in you. But you couldn’t deny that there were butterflies in your stomach from the idea of coming face to face with him again 

You bit your lip, weighing the pros and cons of going to the exhibition and in the end, you were being placed in a familiar position- being dragged to the gallery but this time less grumbling and more nervous babbling.

You fidgeted with your fingers behind your back as you walked through the gallery, on high alert for Jungkook’s tousled hair, pink highlights, and circular glasses.

You’re walking aimlessly from room to room casually admiring the artwork of the students.

You stop in your tracks.

Your face heats up before a swell of pride makes you feel like you’re going to burst.

You’re stared, eyes widening, at a painting- it’s called ‘Wrath’.

You’re staring at a canvas of a young woman, hunched over, a knife poised in her hand with blood dripping down in. Two familiar eyes reflected in the knife.

You studied the rest, soon realizing the young woman was never alone, a set of hands, a flash of hair or eyes of another somewhere in the painting.

You came to stand in front of the last image you’d posed for, ‘Lust’ and felt yourself blush, feeling just as naked while you looked at the painting 

The young woman arched in pleasure, naked, a fine sheen of sweat glistening off her skin. But what caught your eye was the set of hands that were roaming her body greedily. You tilted your head confused, unsure of the point of the other character in each portrait 

You studied the painting longer, tilting your head at every angle trying to figure it out. An old man had crept beside you.

“Perplexing set of portraits aren’t they?” The old man said.

You glanced sideways at the man, he held a stack of papers and a knowing smirk on his face. You blushed and averted your gaze to the floor.

“Do you know the concept behind them?” He asked looking at you before shuffling through the papers.

“The seven deadly sins.” You answered.

He chuckled and cleared his throat, “These set of portraits are the story of a cynical man who inadvertently causes the woman he loves to commit the seven deadly sins.”

He hands you the paper which you take hesitantly before he studies you, a wise shine in his eyes, “You must be the lady behind these portraits am I correct?” He quirked his eyebrow and you timidly nod your head.

“I’m Jungkook’s professor for studio art, it’s nice to meet his muse.” He smiled shaking your hand.

You scoff, “I’m not his muse, that’d be his ex-girlfriend.” You stated bitterly, folding your arms.

“I’d advise you to look through his sketches that are required with the project proposal. He didn’t draw all of those in one night. I’ve been teaching him for 3 years now, and it’s so difficult for Jungkook to find anything worth making because once he finds it he can’t stop thinking about it. You’ve been his muse far before he asked you to be his model.”

Your eyes widened at the statement and you found yourself flipping through the pages of his paper, all sketches of you. Different poses, background, and facial expressions but nevertheless it was always the same girl- you.

You found yourself biting back a smile.

You looked back at the man, “Is Jungkook here?”

“I’m sad to say that he is not, he had said that today was the deadline to clear out the studio space he rented.”

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment. But your inner-Liz gave you a small pep talk and you took matters into your own hands.

You found your friend quickly who was leaning against her new boyfriend, Namjoon.

“Hey,” You said breathlessly, heart pounding with excitement, “I’m gonna go I have to go do something.”

She glanced down at the paper in your hands, sketches on display and a smirk played across her face. She clasped your shoulder and squeezed giving you a small nod to go pursue your man 

The small gesture gave you enough strength to continue on your quest, getting into your car hurriedly and zooming well over the speed limit to the studio.

You ran to the building, your whole body buzzing as you prayed that a) the building was unlocked and b) that Jungkook was still in fact here. You sighed in relief as the door easily pulled open and you shoes pounded against the steps loudly as you made your way up the two flights.

Your chest burned as you sped towards the plain white door to the studio that Jungkook rented. You stilled in front of it, heart pounding and butterflies forming in your stomach. You gripped the doorknob. It turned- a sign that it was unlocked 

The room was a lot emptier than when you’d seen it the first time. You glanced at the corner where he’d been slumped, and your lips tightened bitterly at the memory. You rounded into the second part of the room and your eyes landed on his turned back, feelings of shame and embarrassment bubbled in you as you remembered your last encounter 

Not that it wasn’t really hot that he watched you get yourself off, and that he’d made you his muse but there were certainly more conventional ways to let you know he could possibly like you. You rolled your eyes- typical art student theatrics.

He turned around, struggling to hold the various sized canvases in his grip and froze when his eyes landed on you. They expanded to the size of saucers in shock.

You smiled smugly, no reason to be coy in such a situation. You held the paper that his professor had given to you up so he could see that you knew his dirty little secret.

His gulp was audible, or maybe it was so obvious that you swore you could hear it.

You hadn’t really thought ahead of time in the frantic rush to get here what exactly you were going to say to him and so you blurted out the first thought that creeped into your mind, “I thought you still loved you ex.” You weren't quite sure if it was a question or a statement.

His eyes widened even more in shock, clearly not understanding just how deep your intuition went.

He set the canvases up against the wall any chance of peaking at what they were foiled when he made sure the actual image was facing the walls. He cleared his throat and for the first time you didn’t see a stereotypical, hipster, art student. He wasn’t wearing a mask of half annoyance and half amusement like he could care less what happened like he usually did. He opened his mouth and a worried expression quickly settled over his features as he desperately struggled to find the words 

“I….I was.” He stated, emphasis on the ‘was’.  He scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly and you took the moment to admire his outfit- all black. God did he make it look good.

He looked back at you sheepishly and quirked his head as if to say here goes nothing, “I was struggling so hard to draw, couldn’t find anything worth drawing and then I started drawing you..I could remember your features so easily….and then I only wanted to draw you. That’s when I told you about my project. If you hadn’t offered to be my model I would’ve asked.”

You nod, slowly processing everything, “What about all those sketches you ripped up, you said you ‘hated them all’.”

He hummed in remembrance before a light chuckle left his lips. He bit his lip unsure before he answered, “I hated how I couldn’t draw you perfectly.” His gaze slowly dragged back to your eyes. A sincere smile on his face that made your heart beat just a little faster than it was already was.

“You’re still quite the cynic.” You commented with a snicker, referring to his paper and the topic of his showcase, “I saw that one, your hands all over me.” You quirked an eyebrow.

He laughed uncomfortably and you watched his face blush. “I...I’m s-”

“Sorry? Hmm...should’ve told me that sooner. Were you even going to contact me? Even after you watched me touch myself...for your benefit might I add?”

You walked closer, you wanted to tease him. You liked seeing him flustered, the opposite of his usual stoic mask. And you were frustrated, a little hurt also to say the least. There were some true questions that lie under your taunts.

“I...I was going to come to the show...talk to you then.” He swallowed and licked his chapped lips and he watched you stalk closer to him. He shut his eyes, seeming to hone in on any courage he had and said as confidently as he could, “Your body, is the best inspiration I’ve ever had. I stayed up for hours painting after you’d left that day.”

You hummed as you placed a hand firmly against his chest and pushed, backing him into the wall.

“Is that really all you did? Is that why you kicked me out so quick, so you could paint?” You asked, tilting your head and feigning innocence. But the air was heavy with tension, ready to crack at the slightest misstep.

His eyes darted around the room, flitting to yours before he hung his head towards the floor. The night outside was coming quickly once the sun started setting but you could still make out the faintest blush across his face. You blushed as well, the unspoken words causing heat to swirl in between your thighs 

“Jungkook.” You whispered, your hand still firmly on his chest felt his heart pounding just as fast as ours, and your other hand cupped his jaw.

He slowly made eye contact with you, his doe eyes showing expectancy as they spared a swift glance to your lips. He inhaled deeply, his mouth parted. Your hands snaked into his hair- something you’ve fantasized about doing since the moment you laid your eyes on those stupid pink highlights. You played aimlessly with it and you felt the hot breath from his satisfied sigh run over your face 

That’s when his arms, that had been hanging limply by his sides, timidly fell to rest gently on your waist. He searched your eyes for a reaction that may have showed your dissatisfaction but you bit your lip instead to hide the smile that would've probably split your face in two.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes and tilt his head for easier access and gently press your lips to his. You feel his hands grip you tighter and pull you closer. You melted into the kiss. It was so satisfying and you just want to keep kissing him, over and over and over. And all you could think about was his warm tongue and the moans he’d let out the closer you pushed into him. You felt his large hands begin to slide down your body, arriving to the curve of your ass. 

Breaking from the kiss, a small whimper sounded from Jungkook and he chased after your lips for more but you stopped him with a firm press to his chest. You licked your lips, feeling how tingly they felt.

You gripped his hands and pulled them off you taking another step back to farther yourselves. You studied him, he was leaned up against the wall for support, his breath was ragged, veins bulging from his forearms at how warm you both were getting 

His disheveled hair, wrinkled shirt, and jeans so tight you’d believe if someone told you they’d been painted on. You smirked and more heat pooled in your groin when you saw the obvious outline of Jungkook’s semi.

“Did you jerk off when I left your house?” You asked outright, sick of beating around the bush and too drunk from the kiss you’d both just shared to care about the lack of discretion.

He sighed, “Yea…” an apologetic tone in his voice.

Your core pulsed as you said the next words, “Show me.”

His hands slowly came to rest on his belt before looking back up at you, ‘are you sure’ written all over his face.

You bit your lip eagerly and nodded to encourage him further, “It’s only fair Kookie.” You pressed 

He nodded in understanding, his hands slowly unbuckling his belt. You rubbed your thighs together, his veiny hands and the seductive picture of him unzipping his jeans enough to start aching for friction between your legs.

He looked up at you through his fringe, when he pulled his pants and boxers down simultaneously. You gulped back a moan. His dick was definitely hard than when you’d first asked him to show you but not yet fully hard 

You raised your eyebrows, “Go ahead.” You pushed on, “Show me what you did after I left. 

A devilish grin met his gaze - a mixture of lust and timidity. He grabbed his shaft and immediately his head was knocking against the wall. After a few pumps he shyly opened his eyes and looking directly at you spat into his hand before stroking his hardening length.

By this point your panties were sticking to you with arousal and you were itching to be touched. But you kept yourself planted. Kept watching.

He started to moan and you could tell his dick was very hard by this point. The head flushed- the same color as his lips that were being assaulted by his teeth in vain attempts to quiet his voice.

The veins in his neck began to stand out, and you began to move forward. He stopped pumping his length and lifted his head when he heard your footsteps.

You stopped your advance, “Did I say you could stop?”

He immediately started again, no questions asked but kept his gaze turned to you 

You were now close enough to read out and touch him, just before you were chest-to-chest you moved to his side and began to nip and suck at his neck.

A deep groan erupted from his chest. “Y/N.” He choked on the rest of his words and you could tell by the faster movements he was coming to the end.

“Stop.” You whispered.

He whined, only slowing down but not completely stopping.

You grabbed the hand that was wrapped around his shaft, “I said stop.”

He whimpered, having come to a complete halt now. His cock was an angry red color, having been so close to release.

You back up from his once again, staring- his face glistened with the beginning traces of sweat, cock on full display. You began to undo the wrap dress you were wearing watching Jungkook’s lust filled expression follow your every move.

Once the dress you had on was discarded and you were only in your undergarments you ordered Jungkook to strip which he abided by eagerly. You approached him once more, and ghosted your fingers over his toned chest 

You sighed at his warm skin under your fingertips. “You’re so beautiful.” you smiled up at him appreciatively.

He blushed and whispered back, “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

Your fingers snaked but up to his face and brought him in for another kiss, much more fervent than the first. He pulled back and held your foreheads together, “Y/N…” He licked his lips and his voice pleaded for something that wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

You looked up at him, “What?....show me, show me what you want.”

You stepped back and watched as he fell to his knees like a desperate sinner in church and slid his calloused palms along your legs before looking up at you like a puppy begging for food.

You just nodded, letting him spread your thighs further apart and slid your panties off your legs.

He inhaled sharply, “You’re so, so fucking beautiful…” and he finished the statement by attacking his lips against your clit, kneading the flesh of your thighs adoringly.

Your hand fisted into his hair and exhaled a moan your felt you’d been holding in since you stepped into the studio.

He licked harshly, “So good….so beautiful….You’re such a fucking goddess” He’d say in between licks.

His praise and intense licking has your legs shaking. He twirled your body around by your waist so you were leaning on the wall before he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder and sunk a little lower on the floor to get better access to your dripping core.

You moaned and tugged on his locks sending a groan through his body and straight to your clit. You gasped when he slowly put two fingers into your heat, “Jungkook.” You dragged his name out in a moan 

He looked up at you, eyes big as a baby deer, the deepest affection present in them.

He pulled away from your clit for a moment and broke into the biggest smile- the kind you’ve only seen him wear when he spoke about art, “I could do this all day.”

The transparency and sincerity of the sentence had you flushing a deep red. At a loss for words you grabbed his head and pushed him back into your heat.

“Stop talking and make me cum.” You commanded, struggling to bite back a smile that you were sure Jungkook could hear in your voice.

He nodded, re-attaching his lips to your clit and pumping his fingers faster into you. You whined, beginning to rock your hips against his tongue. He curled his fingers brushing against your g-spot and you clenched around his fingers.

“R-right there, keep going Kookie..” You managed to spit out before shoving his face further into you.

It didn’t take long after he found your g-spot and with his mouth on your clit before you came around his fingers. He pumped into you, letting you relish in your high before he slipped them out and began to lap at your release, only stopping when you whimpered and tried to push his head away. He placed feather light kissed to your inner thighs before sitting back.

You shuddered at the pure lust behind his eyes while he cleaned his fingers of your release before you found yourself looking at his very hard length. The vein on the underside prominent and the color even deeper than before. You saw pre-cum oozing out of it and you clenched at the thought of feeling him inside of you .

“Lay down.” You said. He obediently laid on his back propped up on elbows. You straddled his thighs soon after and rid yourself of your bra. He tentatively raised himself farther and ran his tongue over your erect nipple.

You shut your eyes reveling in the feeling of his tongue, a whine coming bubbling in your throat and warmth swirling in your core when his teeth nipped at your sensitive bud. His head traveled to the other nipple, repeating while slowly massaging the other tenderly.

You carded your hands through his sweat hair and slowly pushed him back down by his shoulders. You delicately took his shaft in your hand. Your small hand wrapped around his larger shaft made Jungkook groan loudly, which turned into a drawn out whine as you pumped him a few times and swiped your thumb over his tip before you brought your thumb to your lips.

“Shit, you’re making me go crazy.” His forearm hung over his face as his complains came out more desperate than annoyed.

You slide up his thighs until your heat was grinding back and forth over his shaft spreading your discharge all over his length. Another low rumble sounded from his chest.

“Jungkook, look at me….tell me what you want.” You grabbed at his arm when he didn’t move it 

He looked at you. His eyes were filled with pure lust, hooded, glazed over, and blown out.

His face was serious nonetheless, hair sticking to his face, a few beads starting to gather around his neck and chest.

“I want you to ride my dick until you’re cumming all over it.” He said breathy

With that you sunk down on him, the slide easy from your own arousal. You hissed at the stretch, never having taken any as thick as Jungkook before.

You pressed your hands onto his chest to steady yourself, “Jungkook, you’re so big…” You said through gritted teeth before you elicited a whine.

He just looked at you, your face both pleasure and pain, his eyes wide with your comment. You felt him twitch inside you.

“P-please don’t say that again...I really almost just came in you.” He declared

“I can’t believe this is happening, you’re so beautiful...amazing..I don’t even know how this is ha-” His rambling stopped when you started to swivel your hips in circles. He groaned loudly and laid your hands lightly on your hips.

Then you slowly began to bounce on him, setting the pace. Moans, whimpers and pants were all that could be heard between the both of you. But as you felt your second orgasm start to near your legs tightened in exhaustion.

You whined, “J-Jungkook..” You childishly pounded on his chest playfully while you pouted 

He seemed to get the message as he started to help, meeting your hips halfway. Your jaw when slack at the change in speed, the way he was filling you in a new way.

“So...so good” You groaned

He repeated your statement in agreement. “I’m so close…” He stated

“Don’t come yet.” You commanded despite his protests. You leaned, hovering your chest over his.

“Kookie, where do you wanna come huh? My mouth? Tits? Maybe inside of me?” He shook his head in protest to all your suggestions 

You slowed down and swatted his hands away from your hips so you were in total control, making sure you were slowing down his chase to orgasm, “Then where?”

“I-I don’t...I would never come anywhere on you. I’d never defile you like that.” He looks away, a look of disgust on his face from even thinking about it.

“Jungkook,” You grab his jaw and force him to look at you, and start to ride him agonizingly slow, “Where do you want to come?”

He doesn’t respond, his eyes just flicker to the canvases and it dawns on you.

“You want to come on one of your paintings? Never thought you were such a dirty boy.” You lean down and lick at his lips and he complied by opening his own mouth. The kiss is just as dirty as Jungkook’s fantasies.

“Okay...but I get to choose the painting.” You agree to his dirty desire.

“Wha-” He begins to disagree but then you stop riding him altogether. He whined.

“If you want to come at all, you’ll do whatever I want.” You smile sweetly, grinding on his dick.

He grunts but nods his head and before he can verbally confirm your wishes you’re already bouncing at a faster pace again.

You replace his hands on your hips and let him slam back into you, almost yelping in pain as he brushes against your cervix.

You shut your eyes tightly, “Please, please keep going I’m gonna-”

A soundless scream left your mouth wide open and you felt yourself start to clench around him. You still your hips and clamp around his dick a few times before moving again, trying to ignore the sensitivity 

“You gonna come you dirty boy...hmm...ready to come all over one of your paintings yet. Mmmm so filthy, I can’t believe how filthy you can be.

Who knew something so beautiful was so. Fucking. Filthy. ” The dirty words that filtered into his head was enough because he was roughly lifting you off his dick.

You scrambled to his feet and saw a half-finished piece. It hadn’t even finished drying. You could tell it was a project he’d given up on but you could also decipher that it was a sketch of you. You grabbed it and laid it on the wall.

You motioned him over, standing to the side and began to jerk off.

“N-no, I c-can’t do this to a picture of you. It’s..n-no.” He furrowed his brow in protest but kept still as you pumped his shaft.

“Come on Kookie, you’re gonna make this painting so nice with your pretty cum. It’ll mmix with the colors, it’ll be a masterpiece after that.” You cooed sweetly, peppering kisses along his skin.

He threw his head back and let out a guttural groan before warm spurts of semen were shooting onto the canvas.

His breath was labored, eyes still shut in euphoria. You let go as his cock softened 

You nudge his cheek with your nose affectionately. “Kookie, look...look how pretty.”

He cracked his eyes open and blushed when he saw you swirling his cum with the semi-wet paint. He buried his face into the crook of your neck embarrassed. 

“I can’t believe I let you make me nut on one of my paintings.” He said into your neck.

“I can’t believe you wanted to….but it was really fucking hot in a twisted way.” You laughed soothingly petting his hair. You lifted his head and looked at him seriously, “But next time, please just come on me…” This time you blushed at your confession, “I-I want you to defile me.”

“So I’m not the only dirty one.” He gripped you tightly into his chest before pressing kisses to the crown of your head.

“Jungkook! Stop drawing me and hang out with me.” You complained when you realized he hadn’t heard a word of what you had been saying.

He sighed placing the sketch book down and giving you an apologetic glance, “Just as I was getting in the zone.” 

You pouted, “I’m your muse, do as I say.” You stomped childishly.

He got up and laughed at you, before you circled his arms around your waist. “What do you wanna do Y/N? 

“Liz is being showcased at the gallery again and we should...no, have to, show our face.”

He groaned, “No, don’t wanna. I wanted to paint tonight. Plus some weird and cynical art student might try and hit on you.” You could feel the smirk against your head as he mumbled his protests into your hair.

You huffed in frustration, “No, not gonna happen. Apparently I only like cynical art students who have pink highlights.” You wiggled from his embraced and ruffled his hair, with fresh pink highlights.

Once you’d a grumbly Jungkook to the gallery and exchanged your congratulations with Liz, you began to wander the gallery with Jungkook.

Your gaze fell on a painting that had you biting back a smile. A boy and girl holding hands, in front of a mirror. Their reflections identical, from the stupid pink highlights to the adoration shared between them. You thought you saw Jungkook smirk. 

The painting was called ‘Art imitates Life’.

[sherlockxreader]

Requests Update!!!

A/N: This is the order in which we received these requests. I’m going to try writing them in the order we’ve gotten them so expect this to also be the rough order in which they’re posted. 

Also of yours isn’t here and it was sent in before the requests closed, I’ve probably lost it somewhere. Feel free to resend it (make sure to specify that it was before the close off please!!) and I’ll work out roughly where it’s meant to be in the list. Thanks guys!

- Maddy

REQUESTS IN PROGRESS

1.  Could you do a fic where the reader gets her hair cut short like a boy and Mycroft and Sherlock make fun of her and she starts crying but John thinks she looks beautiful and confesses his feelings for her to cheer her up? And then they kiss or something? Thx! - anonymous

2.  Can u please do a reader x Sherlock where the reader is a Muslim, wears a headscarf and is British Bengali. Sorry that’s super specific but I never see anything like that. Also your writing skills are awesome. Thanks soooo muxh if u can do it and I absolutely understand if u cant. Thnx xx - anonymous

3.  Hey it’s me again Haha so I was hoping if I could request that reader is Tony Stark’s Daughter (or maybe sister would work better for you?) and she manages to drag her boyfriend coughSherlockcough to America during a holiday to meet him(?) that was my idea and I know it’s a really weird and specific niche of fic but if you guys are comfortable with it ik you’re the best ones to pull it off - anonymous

4.  could i get a sherlock x reader with prompts 92, 95, 97? Its a bit of an odd request sorry - anonymous

5.  Can I make a Sherlock x male!reader request and they’re married (that is why Sherlock is so unfazed by other people) anyway, he just shows up one day and people are clueless as to how Sherlock snatched up such a gentlemen and why they’ve never met him before (except mycroft and mrs Hudson ofc) Thanks~🎉 - anonymous

6.  Hey I was wondering if you could please write a mycroftxdaughter!reader where he wakes up in the cell in Sherrinford to find her next to him and how he would help through all the different stages of it. Thanks :) - anonymous

7. Hellooo What do you think about a Sherlockxreader in which the reader is a hacker working for the government and one day Mycroft brings her to Baker Street to help Sherlock and John with a case? And could you make her personality very smart and sassy? Thanks ❤️ - M (asked as anonymous)

8. could you please write a fluff where Sherlock and reader are getting married(small ceremony) and Sherlock is really really nervous, ending with beautiful vows? thank you :) - @narcissistvirgolady

9. a Sherlock x reader where the reader gets really angry at Sherlock for being distant lately with his cases, so he decides to surprise her ( the reader ) with a carefully planned date. Hope it is possible! - @justoneystrdy 

10.  Could u write a oneshot where the reader is Sherlocks daughter and the reader is pregnant and she is pretty far along in her pregnancy so she struggles to do super simple things and Sherlock and john keep offering to help and they try to help her but she is determined to do it herself, but after a long frustrating day she gives in to the help? - anonymous

11.  Hey! I was wondering if I could request a Sherlock x reader where they are married and expecting a baby and Sherlock is all frantic, but the moment he holds his child he knows is the moment that he waited all along. By the way, I love your blog! I wish I had those writing skills😂 - anonymous

12.  Hey! I was wondering if you could do a request (series or oneshot whatever) that takes place after Mary died, but instead of Sherlock receiving the CD Y/N receives it, and Mary tells her she has to save John and Sherlock otherwise they’ll pretty much self-destruct?? And Y/N gets herself kidnapped or something to bring those two back together?? Whatever you want! Also, could Nyla do this one?? If not, I understand. - @anonymous-requests

13.  Sup! Could you guys make a one Shot about Sherlock meeting Mycroft and his new Assistant (Y/N) (cuz Anthea was snitching with Irene i think) and Y/N is late at first. She’s very Young, around 20 and he makes a joke about Mycroft picking high schoolers or so idk haha, and clumsy and sentiment and all lol And when he deducts her he knows she’s having a depression and all and he have to nice and idk sorry ig ITS Long , was a Dream of last Night tbh hahah Btw Love your side 🙏🏻 - anonymous

14.  Hiii this is for Maddy Could u do a request where John, Sherlock and the reader are working on a case and u (reader) ends up getting shot and rushed to the hospital and John and Sherlock go into a rage trying to find shooter to the point where Mycroft is unsure of what either might do once they find the man and he goes to u who is recovering and u (can reader be girl?) have to hunt them down to stop them from doing something theyll both regret but then something shocking happens to u? Angsty plz - anonymous

15.  So there’s these two songs I absolutely love, and I was wondering if someone could do a songfic for one of them (“Oh My Love” by Silver Trees or “Dear Doubt” by Michael Schulte) where Sherlock thinks the reader is dead but receives a note that could only be from her except no one believes him, thinking its a prank, but then she shows asking for his forgiveness and he refuses to forgive her, avoiding her at all cost. Maybe sad, or bittersweet, ending??? Also, I love you all you’re all AMAZING ❤️❤ - anonymous

16. Can you do a request where Sherlock and Y/N are best friends, where she gets to see a side of him where he laughs until he cries and he shows his emotions to her sometimes, but they’re only best friends. She loves to pull pranks on people constantly, especially cruel pranks on Sally and Anderson for everything they say to Sherlock, but she does and it’s all really hilarious to both of them, and Molly of course gets super jealous and a bunch of girls do which makes it funnier to them?? And can you add in prompts “THERE’S SO MUCH BLOOD” and “Huh. And I thought /I/ was dramatic.” (Srry can’t remember the prompt numbers!) thanks!!!! Also, could Maddy write this?? If not that’s okay - @anonymous-requests

17.  Could you do a Mycroft x Reader were the Reader sees him every day but dont know who he is and is absolutly fascinated by the way he is and looks like? And someday he ask her how she could know he is the british government and she is all alike ‘what? No ich dont know anything about you’ - anonymous

18. Hey are the requests still open? :3 Could you do 6 and 25 with sherlock x fem! Reader? If not its alright aswell, i like your writingstyle :3 - @konankami

19.  Are you guys still accepting the numbered requests? I’d so, could you please do 16,20,and 26? I love all of your​ guys’ writing skills!!!! ❤❤❤❤❤ - anonymous

20.  Hey! Could i get a sherlock x reader, where she is an old friend of John’s and she comes to 221b to catch up with him and Sherlock falls in love with her but he thinks she’s dating John and they (her and John) decide to prank Sherlock by pretending to 'get jiggy with it’ and it ends with her dating sherlock? Sorry if it seems weird xx - anonymous

21.  Could you do one with Moriarty? 6,8,19,36,64,117 Sorry if its too much - anonymous

22.  Hey! Could you do a Sherlock x reader where the reader doesn’t have any hair and she’s low key insecure about it and one day Sherlock just kind of deduces it and tries to tell her that she’s ridiculous in his own way ( so like not :“what do you mean, you look great!” Because I, myself have experienced that and it doesn’t actually make you feel any better) Sorry if this was really long…. Thank You❤️❤️❤️(love the acc) - anonymous

23.  Hello love! I have a request for a Sherlock imagine. After ten long years of no meeting with Sherlcok because reader suddenly disappears, she is now a client of Sherlock and brings her daughter with her. Little did he know she was as intelligent as him because he’s the father. Thanks a bunch!!! - anonymous

24.  hello, can i request a sherlockxreader imagine?when he’s “engaged” with janine, the reader didn’t like her and when john wants to tell her about s&j’s relationship, she makes comments abt her (like “she seemed quite arrogant, an opportunist"etc) but then she discovers the thing and is sad bc she likes sherlock, what are the others reactions? sorry i love your blog - anonymous

25.  Hi um I was wondering if you could write me a Sherlock x reader where reader is shy and insecure because of there disability a limp when they walk as she thinks it makes her ugly so she tries to hide it when she meets people by concentrating on her walking but Sherlock analyses her and sees she is insecure and tells her she shouldn’t be because she’s beautiful I know this sounds fluffy and is specific but if you could do it or something similar I would really appreciate it either way thank you x -anonymous

26.  i wanted to request a sherlock x reader where he notices her having trouble breathing etc and he finds out about her binding and he helps her buy a binder and she says her pronouns are they/them? thank you for everything xxx - anonymous

27.  Hi i have an imagine request, a jealous sherlock x reader, where she’s an artist (illustrator or painter or something) and she’s having a lot of activities with her artist peers and he gets jealous and insecure bc they have way more things in common w her than he has (as they are complete opposites in their lifestyles lol). Just fluff and fun, thanksss ily all💙 - anonymous

28.  Could you do a 1,24,31 Mycroft imagine,where the reader gets shot by Moriarty. - anonymous

[inappropriatefangirlneeds]

Gotham s4ep7 “A Day in the Narrows” Review 

 “I need some air” Warning spoilers below

 *  THE WHOLE CITY IS A GOOD COP & BAD COP ROUTINE 1. I appreciate it that they show what justice under Pax Penguina means. It means criminals just doing what they want.   2. I still appreciate that they show the tie ins between criminals / criminal behavior and cops 3. I don´t appreciate that they forget Jim Gordon very much participated in 2.

Pyg kidnapped cops in the Narrows. A place of poverty that does not collaborate with cops. This means for Bullock that they have to make people more afraid of cops than of criminals. Jim Gordon is trying to stop the violence. “Hey! Hey! Get off! Get off of him. They're potential witnesses. They're not perps.” “This is the Narrows, Gordon. You think there's a difference?” It´s hints of S1 Jim yay. This and having them explain that the three cops weren’t there for duty: “Three officers, different precinct, same patrol car they were freelancing. Look, I know how it is down here. A lot of bad stuff happens; half the time it's the cops doing it. They were running some sort of protection racket” paints a grim picture of the GCPD (2) 

Jim tires to ask for help from a local lady but Headhunter interrupts using his own methods. Out in the open those are (for the viewer) put on display against each other.  Empathy vs Violence.   However in the plot context Headhunter talking about how he has never done the “good cop & bad cop” routine ties which that back to the collaboration between GCPD and Criminals (2)  This is highlighted when we see a cop complimenting Headhunter in the background. He seems impressed about the criminals signature. That´s not what Jim wants. J im seeks out collaboration but not in public!  (3) 

Having Headhunter and his crew all loose and doing their thing (1)  makes Jim Gordon telling an Oswald Cobblepot who shows up at the GCPD to help with Pyg “We don´t want your help” look good. But let´s not forget one thing: Jim refuses official collaboration but he went to Oswald for information when the case started. Granted have Penguin´s security consultant work on the case is something different than interrogate Oswald as someone who is involved is something vastly different, and should be treated as such but both is “help.” (3)

 * GOOD COP, BAD COP or HERO, the designated kind? When Jim Gordon talks to the injured cop/Pyg it´s surely not all technique to build trust with him when he says:   “I guess he's just reached a breaking point. There's so much rot in Gotham. All of it, high to low. Sometimes even I feel like breaking, you know?” “I get it. I've done bad stuff myself. For Penguin, even. But you and I can make it right. Now you have a chance to make right what you've done wrong. Help me.” Moreover Oswald Cobblepot calls him out on all he did do that would classify him as bad cop: “Because I'm against dirty cops.” “Except all of the times you are one.”  However the cop/Pyg tells Jim  “You are one of the good ones, Jim.” (It reminds me so much of the scene with Puck) We have both in that episode: Jim being declared good (cop) and Jim being declared bad (cop). But what does matter? When we take a look at what happens we see Penguin celebrating the saved life of the cop but he instantly adds a remark about his own selfish reasons: “Technically I saved that cops life. Such great PR.” Backing that up Penguin´s men refuse to run into the abandoned courthouse to help the people stuck in there:  “Get in there” “Mhmm”  Jim in contrast does. Jim runs in there. Jim is “justice”, Jim is heroic. You can´t buy that. You don´t find that with criminal “justice” (1) Also when Harper thanks Jim and says no one could have done it like he did it implies that you don´t  find that with cop “justice” (2) either, least nothing quite like it.   Jim is the hero, the press is clear about that but he´s not one that should be on a high horse (3). Jim is reflecting on not being a good cop this week but he has no doubt that he can make things right yet refuses to give eg. Harvey the same chance.   Heroes don´t need rules, heroes don´t need to answer to anyone. Heroes do just the right thing no matter what it is (just ask Bruce getting basically thanked for punching someone .. )

* HARVEYs DILEMMA  Harvey is just in between the parties.  Jim: “I'm giving you three seconds.” Headhunter: “ I'm giving you two.” Bullock: “No one is counting!” Jim Gordon does not want to back up Penguin´s system any more:  “Are you out of your frickin' mind?”  “Jim, listen” “You are legitimizing him, Harvey.” “He's been legitimized for years. He was the freaking mayor!” This week it´s all about the PR: Oswald want´s the fame for saving the city. “Thanks Jim for leading the way, we take it from here” Jim does not want him to have it. “And the people need to know they don't need gangsters to keep them safe. I'll tell you what, I'm gonna find Pyg, alive, and I'll bring him to justice.” “Good for you.” Harvey is somewhere in between (okay Jim would say something else) He just wants so save those cops and tries using all help.(You know like when Jim tries to save the city with the help of the mob, but that does not happen in public.) 

 * PYGMALION “Did you know I spell my name with a y”  Pyg is gonna create a new Gotham, a new Jim. “Oh, and those things that you want to get done well they're the same things I want.” “Only if you want to go to prison for the rest of your life.”  It seems they will continue to play on the parallels of Jim Gordon and Pyg. They continue to highlight that they both share the same mission but I´m pretty sure in the end it will be Jim being separated from Pyg because of their methods. Jim will still be the hero despite having flaws himself. They will pull up a pretty rigid distinction between the two I guess.   I do still wonder why Pyg, no even having heard Jim´s confession about having done bad things for Penguin is so keen on stylizing him a s a good "one”. It´s like even the criminal determined to kill all corruption deader than dead falls for Jim.  I guess Pyg can see this as Jim being even closer to him because Jim as well uses questionable methods to reach both their mission but damn it why does only Jim get that privilege?  * “Half the precinct skipped town because they didn't want to wear bacon-flavored death masks. We need the help.” “You are dangerously overreacting.” “I'm overreacting because every cop in this precinct got a death threat. Except, of course, for you.”

 * Oswald has a new security consultant, one Victor recommended. Oswald is at the GCPD without any entrance performance whatsoever. This is disappointing.  What kind of beef does he have with HEADHUNTER?  “ Colorful, isn't he? But effective.“  // “And there's that Headhunter person I was talking about. Kind of a moron, but he is effective.” Does he think he is the one with a monopoly on being a colourful criminal? Is he just pissed about Victor leaving him and taking that out on what Victor left behind? 

* TWO CHILDREN & THEIR ANGER This week it´s BRUCE WAYNE being more a parallel to Oswald Cobblepot than Jim Gordon. Bruce hosts a charity at his place because he does not want to go out. Alfred tried to leave him some air but Bruce is troubled and hurting. “I just I can't stop thinking about when I .. I should feel bad. Guilty. I, I just”  “You're just angry. That anger is concealing what's really going on. Unless you face it full-on, it will consume you. And it will erupt.”    ALFRED PENNYWORTH is out of his depth with that matter and Bruce keeps pushing him away. He “needs air.”  Bruce apologizes to Alfred, he recognized that he´s not behaving the right way, he probably regrets being a jerk to the waiter too but he´s not ready to solve his issues. He walks away from them. This is some child like behaviour we haven´t seen in quite a while from him.  A girl his age that knows him from school takes him away from the charity to a friends place. A friend Bruce punched in the past, but its okay the guy says he deserved that.   Bruce´s anger and use of violence are being justified in this case.  However there is someone else who is an ahole to Bruce and we see him fantasize about punching that guy however Bruce holds back and finds a non violent way to take out his anger.  He is humiliating him by buying the club they couldn´t get into. ( On a side note:  Bruce Buying the place. Well how do you make jerky behaviour look nice you put up a bigger jerk. But given the horrible health care situation we´ve seen with Butch/Grundy as well as Leslie recently, all the talk about the horrible conditions in the Narrows this episode I just want to take that money that went into the club and use it on public services. But Bruce held a charity event at his place so I guess its okay?? Or something. ) >> All while painting anger and violence in a bad light the show still back ups a certain type of violent behavior of Bruce.  >> Bruce can´t have the bad kind of anger and violence but he can have a party. He tries out “a new side” for a while.  >> As long as it´s just for a while I could actually see that as something that could be beneficial for him but the music at the party changes before the cut. Seems they want Bruce to get back on punching guys that deserve it track, or they are just illustrating that it still is not a good method to tackle your issues. 

OSWALD COBBLEPOT Is at Sofia Falcone´s place and surrounded by children (Same Oswald, I cant with them either) He is obviously meant to look like one of them when he cries out for Sofia´s attention and is pissed when he doesn´t get it.  He acts childish. The Pyg case is on TV. “Technically I saved that cops life. Such great PR.”   Oswald is so happy about his success but Sofia is not having the reaction he wants. He asks about her opinion and demands it when she refuses the first time. She says how her father Carmine Falcone would not have sided with the GCPD, they are incompetent, they will fail and drag him with them. Oswald is stressed and eats. He is also childish again showing a now more than ever reaction. He´s going to get more involved, personally even!    Sofia is not having any of it and I love it:  “Don´t ask for my opinion if you don´t want to hear it”  (Okay I´m super suspicious maybe there is a Pyg & Sofia connection but would she be so good at subtle manipulation to set that up, like damn .. playing the situation all emotional to keep Oswald from thinking straight and planning? )   (( Also: SOFIA FALCONE is so fucking clever when asked about her opinion she doesn´t give it, she gives her fathers! She is still playing that she is no threat to Oswald. She is suggesting that she doesn´t have mob leadership plans and skills when she is referring everything back to her father. That and utilizing Oswald´s connection to his mentors is so effing clever!!)) Things go bad. Penguin tries to argue to the press that he doesn´t have control about the GCPD, talk about backpedaling but the press does not care Jim is the hero. Hooray.  >> Oswald is angry and he´s not applying any other strategies like Bruce he stabs Headhunter “Second one´s my signature“  It doesn´t matter that it is his fault for ordering them to go in he lets out his anger on others.

 * A TURN OF TIDES? IS IT THE SEA or THE MOON THAT IS DRUNK?   JIM GORDN & HARVEY BULLOCK Detective HARPER openly thanks Jim: “That's from all of us, even if they're not saying it. Thank you, Detective.” “You'd have done the same.”  “Yeah, but not as well.” Jim inspired change. Another cop rips a license to pieces. For once the GCPD is on the side oft heir hero. HARVEY BULLOCK is looking dark and grim and disappointed while watching this.  I´m not buying what is going on here. Harvey risked his life because of Jim. Rushing into danger without backup just because Jim said so. Harvey was annoyed at the young boyscout who wanted to change things and still had his back every single time.  I can buy that the new commissioner job might take a toll on Harvey, that he might be relieved about things going smoother for him with Penguin´s system but I doubt that this is what he wants.  I believe what he told Jim that it´s better to have him in this position so he can act when it matters. He´s not been keen to have that position he has voiced that but we have seen him in action and he didn´t look miserable. He does now. Why the heck?  Also on JIM GORDON´s side: He knew what Harvey did under Loeb and he helped him to destroy the files and evidence on it. He seemed to have forgiven him and accepted him on his side. That was arguably worse than “just” taking money and wait by.  I would be okay with Jim dropping Harvey when he does not act when it´s about time and okay in some way I guess this was the moment this week when Harvey called Headhunter & Penguin along the GCPD to the abandoned courthouse but it was a reasonable thing to do.  It was focused on the matter and safety not on PR. Jim and Oswald are the parties that are butting heads and want the PR, Harvey is the one who is arguably free of the ulterior motive in this situation.  (Okay unless you are Jim who absolutely thinks this is Harvey supporting Oswald´s system and helping him by giving him a chance to cement his reputation in the public.) But still Jim is painted as being right and Harvey having betrayed him.  Moreover Jim has called crime (Penguin and Falcones) to aid several times (okay he´s tried to keep that secret so it´s a difference in not doing damage to the GCPD reputation but still ..) , now Harvey does it and he´s not accepting it. I´m not buying that years of friendship and Bullock having Jim´s back with every rubbish he pulled would be over like that.  Harvey always trusted Jim, would he be so “petty” to stop that just because Jim is questioning him?  This quite frankly is a mess.

 BARBARA KEAN & SELINA KYLE   Ra´s al Ghul´s money is gone Barbara Kean wants to stop the whole operation. Selina still think they can make the initial plan running. She knows a gang to steal money from and wants to do it on her own to proof Barbara they can do it. She almost gets caught.   Barbara pretends not to care. We owe her TABITHA GALAVAN says but Barbara replies that´s what the money is for. Tabitha comes to Selina´s rescue. She just wants a purpose & a home Tabitha says.   This week it is Barbara who is broadcasting Selina´s  “ care about Number 1, and number one is you” rule: “Well, how about a little parting lesson from big sis. In this life, you're on your own. Always.“ While Selina has changed her mind about this. When Tabitha wants to draw fire on herself to help her escape she says: “Screw that. Whatever we're doing, we're doing together.” Barbara shows up and saves the day with a gun.  She is a Queen and this is a damn great entrance:  “Hello? Excuse me? - Did you guys order Thai? No. Good, 'cause I don't have any.” >> However with everything Selina and Tabitha have done in the past it´s odd that they need Barbara to save them.  We know Ra´s has trained her and she has been great going after Edward when Tabitha got kidnapped so I´m not having issues with her kicking ass but Selina and Tabitha not kicking ass.  >> That being said it already felt odd that Selina got caught in such a situation. With all we have seen her do in the past (eg. sneaking into Arkham) it is so damn hard to believe that she wouldn´t just have walked out of that garage. >> Selina forgot her old rule, it´s nice to see that she wants a home and connects that with connecting to other people but it´s so odd that she would have dropped that self preservation and self preservation is a damn good purpose too, moreover she has followed that rule with keeping friendships and connections before (eg. Bridgit, Ivy .. )  What is going on?! >> One thing I do get is Barbara adapting the “Number 1” credo.  It´s not like she has treated everyone else in a stellar manner but the other way round didn´t happen either. I´m still angry and puzzled over Tabs just letting Butch throw Barbara out when she was vulnerable (No I can´t let that go) That does make sense for me. But hey here she is re-establishing the bond with Tabs and Selina. >> This is the second time Selina took action and a risk and someone else followed suit. She did so when taking Penguins invitation for her and Tabitha alone.  

>  “I guess it´s time to burn rubber.”   Is another Facette of the  JUSTICE vs CRIMINAL JUSTICE play (2). Once the criminals see one of them failed his task they torture him. It´s brutal, Selina winces. On a side note: It´s pretty telling that the show has the trio try steal from criminals and target them. They just can´t cross a certain line. Selina just can´t become a “proper” CriminalTM

 GOTHAM MUSIC  & BRUCE * The party music is The Prodigy: Spitfire   It´s a stretch but maybe the “Cause you know that I can” line is meant to refer back to what Alfred told Bruce about being capable .. * Before getting into the club it´s “Spandau Ballet: Chant No. 1 (I Don't Need This Pressure On)  And those “I don't need this pressure on  Oh I should question not ignore” lyrics are definitely referring to Bruce running away from the issues to a party.

[gcldxnbcy]

before the storm || c x j

TAGGING ; jace wayland herondale & clary fairchild

LOCATION ; the new york institute

Jace felt a little lost from his place behind the inquistor’s former desk - the desk of the head of the new york institute. it felt like it had only bee minutes ago before she’d informed him that he’d been placed in charge temporarily and that she was needed elsewhere. in her absence, and the absence of both aldertree and lydia branwell, he’d been the obvious choice. his insistence that ALEC was the best - and only - man for the job had been met on deaf ears. so now here he stood, paperwork piled up in front of him, and he wondered - not for the first time - what finding out the truth about his parentage would mean for him. before it had felt like a curse, an ALBATROSS looped around his neck, weighing him down, and now the responsibility of being a herondale - while enlightening - was reminiscent of the weights of former. thankfully a knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts and he called out for them to come in, straightening up and then visibly relaxing when he saw that it was just clary. a familiar face was a R E L I E F .

clary a lot had happened while she was gone. simon had found out - and really, that was on her ( she should’ve told him - why didn’t she ? ), and apparently jace was a herondale. a HERONDALE. as in shadowhunter royalty herondale. a fact she’d only found when she’d re-entered the institute, after being called back, fearing the worst. making her way to the office, the mantle held by some many ( 2 of which had betrayed them - pardon her paranoia ), she knocks on the door. opening it and seeing jace - sat a desk. “hey.” she leans against the door briefly, before closing it. not sure if she should address the unspoken, instead opting for the simple - “how are you doing? with everything? news travels fast in the shadow-world.”

Jace knew it was a loaded question. if anyone knew what it was like to have your world turned upside down overnight, it was clary. in typical jace fashion, however, he didn’t let the clouded haze of his thoughts bleed into his facial expressions. “i’m processing.” he replied simply, moving away from the desk and crossing over to her. it felt odd sitting behind the desk ; like he didn’t belong. he was a S O L D I E R , not a politician. everyone with a brain knew than alec was better suited for the job than he was. “i told the inquisitor that it should have been alec. i didn’t ask for the job - i don’t even want it.” and that was the worst part, wasn’t it? alec had killed himself for this job, to earn the respect of the clave, and it had been handed to H I M with nary a thought. he didn’t blame his parabati for being discouraged, even angry. it was understandable. “but we have bigger things to worry about, like two dead shadowhunters.”

clary with her experience of being valentine’s daughter, and then jace’s sister, and then no longer jace’s sister ( and somewhere along the way her father had indirectly murdered her mother ) - she knew what it was like for one’s life to be upheaved. noticing the ring now hanging from his neck, she could only assume she’d missed a lot. and she had no idea how to approach comforting him, considering their fluctuating relationship status. reaching up one hand to his shoulder and letting it rest there. just silent comfort. “i didn’t want to be a shadowhunter at first. but we grow and change and - circumstances change.” she takes a breath, and her eyes go wide. “wait - TWO dead shadowhunters? what happened? is it the circle? i thought the members were disbanding without valentine.”

Jace nodded grimly. while he appreciated clary’s efforts to comfort him, there was a time and place for such things and with shadowhunters getting their runes carved out? This W A S N ‘ T it. everything else would take a back seat. “they just brought them in. stratham and levifold; i trained with them, grew up with them. it wasn’t shadowhunters that did this – it couldn’t be.” It made him sick, thinking of their mutilated bodies with runes removed. no shadowhunter would do something like this, not even a circle member. “they were killed by downworlders.. a vampire bite, and wolf claws.” there was no telling just what – exactly – had spurned these attacks but jace had a feeling they weren’t over. not by a long shot. “..if downworlders are killing shadowhunters, that’s an act or war.”

clary “oh my god. - jace, i’m so sorry.” ever a new tragedy, a new threat. if it wasn’t valentine, it was the clave’s newest audit. if it wasn’t the clave, it was the downworld apocalypse they’d tried so hard to prevent coming to light. and it had happened anyway - despite their many new brushes with death, murderous and otherwise. “but we can’t assume all the downworlders are involved in this. they’re good people - like simon, and luke, and maia.” she crosses her arms over her chest. “do we know anything else?”

Jace crossed his arms loosely over his chest. the inquisitor’s words burned through him and spilled out from between his lips, though he wasn’t E N T I R E L Y sure he believed them. “right now, everyone’s a suspect, clary. shadowhunters are dead, we can’t be too careful. you && I both know that simon, maia, luke, they wouldn’t hurt anyone.” he straightened up. “we’ll get them to submit to dna testing, just to clear them. “ it was the only thing that made sense, wasn’t it? covering their bases, ensuring there was no room for speculation? “luke’s already here, he’s being tested downstairs.”

clary none of this settled with her. not the murdered shadowhunters but - dna testing their friends? “you brought luke in?” there was always a spark of righteous, or what what she believed to be righteous, indignation coursing through her. waiting for an opportunity to be given into once more. crossing her arms a little tighter over her chest. “jace - you’re not serious about this. i know you and simon haven’t always gotten along but - he’s not a killer. and how are you planning to bring all of the downworlders in brooklyn to the institute?”

Jace didn’t back down, only his jaw clenching in the slightest as any sort of a reaction. “luke agreed to come in to clear his name. no one wants another uprising, clary.” it’s true, he knows it’s true, and while the clave might take some extreme precautions, it was a necessary evil. “simon lewis wouldn’t hurt a kitten.” jace responded with a snort, eyes rolling – albeit fondly. while he wasn’t a huge fan of clary’s best friend-turned-boyfriend, of that he was sure. “but it’s not about what I know or what you know.. this is bigger than the two of us.” he withdrew from his pocket the prototype from R&D, extending one of them out to her. as he did so, his pocket vibrated. he didn’t know yet, but another body had been found.. this one slain by the blade of a seelie knight. “this will enable GPS tracking chips. it’s quick, painless, and will exonerate anyone who I S N ‘ Tguilty of any crime. no one will need to come in. look, I get it, you’re new to this… the clave might seem harsh but it’s for their protection as much as it is for ours.”

clary an eyebrow raising as she takes the object that’s extended to her, running her thumb over it in an attempt to deduce what it is. and looking up at jace with wide eyes at the explanation. “tracking chips?” scoffing indignantly as she lays the prototype down on the table. “so we’re herding the downworlders like pets now?” just because the downworlders have more demon blood than us, she wants to quip. prejudice is universally the same - in the mundane world, the shadow-world, the downworld. everyone is just so afraid all the time. “ THIS is how you start an uprising, jace.”

Jace safely tucked the tracking device into his pocket as he shook his head. she didn’t understand – how could she? “it’s accountability. we can be tracked by our runes; it’s the same concept. just trust me, you’ve been a shadowhunter for five minutes. they know what they’re doing.” he reminded her, glancing down at his phone when it buzzed again. his stomach sank when he saw the flashing alert; it was never anything good. “come on.” there was no time to argue with her as he grabbed his seraph blade, quickly leaving the office and heading out into the apex. there were people scattered everywhere huddled around their phones and his eyes scanned the room for his grandmother. spotting her over by another gurney, his stomach flipped. that sick feeling still sunk over him even after when he’d confirmed that it wasn’t alec or izzy – wasn’t his family. someone important to him. “still think this is a bad idea?” he grit out, eyes flashing as he straightened up, back ramrod straight. gaze turned to clary as if to say ’ SEE? ’ - voice low, barely a murmur. “how many people need to die before you get it?”

clary “five minutes -” she starts, before her phone buzzes too. a simple alert. she knows what this means - the institute is going into crisis mode. another body’s been discovered. walking out with him, she grabs her small seraph blade from where she stored it in her belt, walking out with jace. and it was just as she expected - another body. their runes stripped, apparently by the work of a seelie blade. it’s a gruesome sight, and it does command some empathy. but she stands her ground -

the downworlders were innocent apart from a fringe group. mass fearmongering was not the answer. she doesn’t appreciate jace’s pointed glance - matching it with her own. “how many times have shadowhunters said that emotions do nothing for us and still live in fear? downworlders can be peaceful.” she keeps her voice low. “so yes, jace, i still think this is a bad idea.”

Jace the time for conversation was over. the inquisitor had given her orders and arguing wasn’t much of an option. his back was straight and his chest tight, such as it usually was whenever imogen herondale was around. he could still remember the icy look in her eyes and how it had T H A W E D when she’d realized who he was. she was his family. for someone who’d changed last names three times in the span of a summer it was a relief to finally have some answers; to know who he was supposed to be. herondales were resolute and they were firm, and he wanted to prove that he was W O R T H Y of being one – that he was worthy of that pride she was so sure his parents would have had in him. yet that pride took on an acidic taste as simon was locked away in prison, maia accused of murder, and yet another shadowhunter body turning up dead. it was only after imogen had left that he felt like he could breathe again – that the expectations of being a herondale, of proving he was more than the monster valentine had been bound and determined to create, had shifted off of his shoulders. he’d just arrived back at the institute and had slipped into his room as he tugged his shirt off, lobbing it into a laundry basket as he ran his fingers through his hair. prove it, she’d challenged, prove that you’re not in love with clary. && with every bruising kiss against her lips, every roll of his hips and scratch of his nails, he’d done just that. hadn’t he? it hadn’t meant anything, yet he still felt as if she’d come out of things with the upper hand. it was a disconcerting feeling. a sigh dragged out between chapped lips as he moved to leave the room, faltering when he nearly crashed into someone in the hallway. clary. “huh. I figured you’d be with your boyfriend.” while his words are matter of fact, there’s no inflection behind them; it’s simply an observation. he might not like simon all the time but he makes clary happy and that, jace can’t begrudge him. he can’t begrudge any of them a spark of happiness, not with the past few weeks they’ve had.

clary time moved irreconcilably fast in the shadow-world. bodies were dropped, and threats were made, and revelations were every other day. and it was exhausting. not the kind of sweat prickling down her back, physical exhaustion - although it was coupled with that too. the kind of ���sometimes i don’t want to get out of bed’ exhaustion. because some days, despite the pace of the shadow-world, move uncharacteristically slowly. dragged out in suffering and longing and uncertainties until the eventual conclusion of the latest threat - until they can all breathe easy again. perhaps for just a night, or just a few hours, but it’s enough. today had been one of those days. she’d thought that she should stay in the institute tonight, in light of everything, and that simon would be fine without her. and she, in turn, would be fine without simon. ( it was also, selfishly, out of the desire to just be alone for a while. alone with her thoughts in the dark until she fell asleep. ) walking tiredly down the halls of the institute, she finds herself narrowly missing a collision with jace. she was quite literally exhaustion on her legs. “you could say we agreed to be apart tonight. it’s been a really long day. for both of us.” she cracks a tired smile. “how are you doing with everything? i didn’t see you at the showcase.” a stupid question really. especially after their day, and the recent revelations.

Jace wondered if the exhaustion etched onto her features reflected his own. while today might not have been a battle, it hadn’t been a V I C T O R Y either. seven shadowhunters were dead; seven families devastated with no sense of justice or absolution in sight. their murderer was dead and wouldn’t be tried for her crimes. kaelie. a shudder washed over him. he’d always thought that he’d been a good judge of character but he was starting to think otherwise. she was a murder. but then again, so was he. “a bar filled with downworlders all itchingto take a bite out of me?” he raised his eyebrows. “pass.” hands came up to run through his hair, all too aware that he had forgotten to grab his shirt on the way out. the training room wouldn’t have cared; present company, however, he couldn’t speak to. “I’m fine. we’re shadowhunters – it’s business as usual.”

clary hadn’t known kaelie - the murderer, seemingly found hanging over max lightwood with a knife to his angelic rune. she makes a mental note to ask if izzy’s okay later, how she’s handling it, seeing her little brother like that - she knows how the fear of losing someone in your family, someone you love, can immobilise you in it’s permanence. ( especially when the number is dwindling. ) “they’ll realise that it wasn’t your fault, one day. you have maia on your side now.” as she had been there when simon and maia had been released, at her own insistence, she knew that it was impossible for all downworlders to resent jace for an atrocity he didn’t set out to commit. he set out to save them all. it was VALENTINE . valentine was to blame. they had to see that one day - maybe when the dust started to settle. only now noticing jace’s attire, or lack thereof - only assuming that he’d sought out to do what all good shadowhunters did without fail; take refuge in training. push down emotions. “being a shadowhunter doesn’t mean you can’t be a human being, jace.” the age old debate of emotions. strength or weakness? help or hinderance? it was so destructive not to feel - despite how much of a hypocrite that makes her.

Jace had heard the same argument made countless times. it wasn’t your fault. you couldn’t have know. sure, he might not have, but that didn’t change things. it didn’t change how he felt; it couldn’t. “it doesn’t matter whose fault it was. I’m the reason their friends, their family, are dead. it’s not something you just get over.” a shrug accompanies his words. if the situations were reversed, he’d probably feel the same kind of anger. when it comes to the people he loves, logic goes out the window. “we lost a lot of good people today; people I’ve known my whole lif, trained with. just because I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve doesn’t make me inhuman.” he’s tired, maybe more-so than he even realized, and there’s not much else he can say. “i’m a soldier, we’re in the middle of a war. if i let my emotions get the best of me, people would get hurt. I wouldn’t be able to do my job. ” more people. people his job it was to protect. “maybe emotions aren’t a weakness, but they’re not going to bring them back either.”

clary the whole situation is devastating. jace’s innocence, and his guilt, and how he was right in some manner - emotions weren’t going to bring those shadowhunters back. they weren’t going to bring the downworlders back that valentine slaughtered either. ( they weren’t going to bring her mother back. ) and no verbal response quite seems adequate - she’s familiar with this displacement approach to blame. although never as severe as jace’s current situation, sometimes she was blamed for her father’s actions. or treated as an accessory to them simply because she shared his blood. her runes weren’t working - she had to be lying. she went to the iron sisters - she was clearly involved in some evil plot by extension of her father. and so she takes comfort in doing one of these few things that came naturally to her these days. taking careful steps towards jace, until she’s standing close in front of him, and wrapping her arms around him. and maybe he’d push her off, or act as though he was fine. but if this helped - even for a moment, in her eyes, it would be worth it. “i’m sorry.” for everything, in extension. for being the catalyst, for the dead shadowhunters, for the soul-sword - for everything.

Jace only realized after clary’s arms had circled around him that they hadn’t been this close to each other in weeks. not since valentine’s revelations – the first time, not the most recent, not since he’d convinced himself that loving her, W A N T I N G her, made him weak and challenged everything he believed in. even when he’d thought that she was his sister, he’d never seen her in that light. she’d always been something more and he’d hated himself for not being able to look past it. now things had changed; she wasn’t his sister, he didn’t have to feel bad for the way he felt { had felt } about her. yet even in its change, there was hesitancy. his hands clenched into fists at his side, unsure if he’d even remembered to breathe as he caught a whiff of her shampoo. emotions are a weakness. clary is your weakness. his subconscious mocked him as his arms loosened from their rigid state, wrap carefully around her – as if she might turn to ash beneath his fingers like most B E A U T I F U L things he’s ruined. “me too.” he murmured, grip tightening so slightly that it would be hard to notice unless you were paying attention. he was hurting, but so was she; misery always did love its company.

clary when his static, stoic posture remained as she’d hugged him - she feared she’d made a terrible mistake. her nature was tactility - to comfort through touch, like her mother always had when she scraped her knee on the steps leading up to the loft. and kissed her goodnight - told her to have sweet, oh so mundane dreams. but jace’s nature, it had become apparent, was quite different. between valentine and the shadowhunter culture - it didn’t surprise her. but it did upset her. that they felt emotions were something to be fought, to be feared because of the havoc they could bring in their conquer. and with their situation - their always uncertain relationship status, seemingly forced comforts after they’d been so unsure of where they stood ( lovers to siblings to friends ? ) - a hug should be out of bounds. ( but that defied her nature . ) when his arms start to move, and wrap around her, she regards it as the only victory of the day. this was progress. it had to be. standing there quietly, in his hold ( that tightened gradually - another small victory ) , it was like the day could finally come to an end.

[bucketsofsomethingorother]

New story! Reblogs and likes are appreciated!

Life as an assassin was tough and lonely but I knew that when I started this way of life. So, when I suddenly felt the need to interact with people, I was a bit confused to say the least. And now, here I was. Sitting in a packed tavern in the middle of the gritty town of Lisena. And of course, Lisena was in the northern quadrant. Where everyone knew who I was, but can’t turn me in because most of them have arrest warrants on their own names. “Alex? What are you doing back here?” someone next to me asked. I recognized the voice immediately as my younger brother Emil. I turned around to see Emil standing about two feet behind me, red eyes filled with fear. I hoped the fear wasn’t directed towards me. I smiled sweetly. “I wanted to get a drink. Is that all right?” “Emil? Is this lady bothering you?” a black-haired boy with cold facial features asked. What was really interesting though was the red teardrop tattoo under his left eye. It signified the Fuchida clan. Now what was this kid’s name again? It was on the tip of my tongue. “N-no. This is just my older sister Alex. She was just leaving.” Emil looked at me harshly, “Right Alex?” Fuchida looked at me through narrowed black eyes. “Alex Lancaster is your name? Miss Siyad wants to see you in her office.” Emil groaned impatiently. He clearly wanted me to leave though, I didn’t quite understand why. Was something going on that I didn’t know about? Probably. “Jackson Fuchida is your name, right?” I asked. Fuchida nodded, clearly dumbstruck. I put my elbows on my knees and leaned on my knuckles absentmindedly, mostly so Fuchida could hear me over the roar of the crowd. “Then tell me Jackson,” I said in a singsong tone before sharpening my eyes and tone, “What does dear Parvati want with me?” Parvati Siyad was someone I had met when I was working for her father to assassinate a competing casino owner. After I killed the competitor, Mr. Siyad had refused to pay me. The next day he showed up dead and I was blamed for killing him. Which I didn’t do. For once. Fuchida’s face stayed placid. “I don’t know but she didn’t seem happy and insisted that when I see you, the first thing I was to do was to escort you to her office. I don’t even know how she knew you were coming.” I sighed. Great. She was still bitter. “Well, might as well get this stupid summon over with.” I said as I stood up and followed Fuchida to the back of the tavern. People whispered behind cupped hands about Fuchida as we walked by. He looked slightly bothered but said nothing. It made me wonder what happened to this poor kid. Although, he wasn’t necessarily a kid. I decided to have a little fun with the whisperers. I put my hands on my sword hilts and looked around like I was trying to figure out which one of the people in here I was going to kill first. Needless to say, the whispers stopped immediately. Finally, we began to venture down a long, dimly lit hallway. Fuchida opened a large dark wood door at the end of the hallway. Behind the door was an office with a desk in it. Sitting at the desk was the caramel skinned beauty known as Parvati Siyad. Parvati’s hair was immaculate as always in its ponytail, with no loose hairs out of place. Her dark purple eyes never left me when I walked into the room. Fuchida closed the door behind me and I suddenly felt very endangered without his presence. “Hello Alex.” Parvati said, leaning on the desk with a somewhat bitter look on her face, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” I nodded. “You’ve only gotten more beautiful since I’ve last seen you.” Parvati scoffed. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” then a smile crept onto her features, “At least nowhere fast.” Her eyes blazed with unbridled passion. I frowned. “I know your game now Miss Siyad. You’ve been torturing my brother, haven’t you?” The truth seemed to smack me right in the face. The way that Emil seemed to despise my presence here, the way he tried so desperately to get me to leave. It fit together like a puzzle. Parvati smiled in a way that would make the devil scream like a baby. “Why would I do such a thing? I’m a casino owner, not evil.” That didn’t make sense. Although, if I knew anything about the only daughter of the Siyad clan, Parvati didn’t lie. “And besides,” Parvati wrapped her arms around my neck, “I wouldn’t want to hurt my lovely assassin.” Parvati released me just as Fuchida came crashing through the door. “Miss Siyad! I apologize for interrupting your meeting but someone started a huge brawl with weapons. I need assistance.” he said, his voice rushed until the last sentence. Parvati glanced at me. “Alex, my lovely assassin, will you please assist Jackson in calming down the patrons of this fine establishment. You might get a lot more done than he will on his own.” Parvati’s eyes seemed to be pleading with me. Was something wrong with Fuchida that I didn’t realize? Fuchida didn’t seem fazed by the backhanded insult. “We need to hurry. Emil is somewhere in the middle of the fight somewhere. He’s good at dealing with people but not for very long. Someone might take his efforts in the wrong way.” I nodded. “Lead the way. I need to save my brother even though he might not want it.” Fuchida smiled sympathetically before leading me into the tavern. All I could hear were the sounds of screaming and yelling from not only patrons but also the bartenders. I gripped my swords tightly. Even though I was an assassin, I hated fighting. Fuchida looked at me. “I’ll find Emil and you get everyone to shut up. Got it?” His bluntness was refreshing but not exactly appreciated in this situation. Before I could ask any questions, the raven-haired boy had disappeared into the crowd. I sighed. I decided that I would fix this my way, no matter how ill-advised it may have been. So, I got up on the table and smashed an empty ale bottle on the edge of the counter. Of course, in a room this loud, no one heard anything. I groaned audibly, defeated. Then I became aware of something I could use to my advantage. In the corner of the room was a five-foot-tall gong. I didn’t have a mallet but I supposed that the hilt of my sword could work. I leapt across the tiny tables, narrowly avoiding getting hit with anything or tripping over chairs. When I finally made it to the gong, no one had noticed me, which was surprising in itself. I unsheathed my swords and grabbed the blades. I slammed my sword hilt into the gong. It made a loud noise that shook everything in the tavern. My hands stung where the blades cut into my skin but the noise stopped so that was a good thing that came out of it. “All of you! Shut up or get the hell out of here!” I shouted, climbing onto a table, “And if you even dare not picking one option or the other, I will make you leave. Myself.” A couple people groaned and left while others sat down and began to nurse their drinks. I guess it really sucks when you get yelled at by someone who is almost more wanted than you. “Alex! Get over here!” Fuchida yelled from the far side of the room. He was cradling someone in his arms. It looked like… No. It couldn’t be. Why would he be… No. Not possible. No one would want to hurt him. Except anyone in this town who hated my guts. Which could be anybody. Okay. Stop freaking yourself out Alex. Fuchida knows what he’s doing. Emil will be fine.  I thought as I climbed off the table and walked towards Fuchida. What I saw when I got there made my veins turn to ice. Fuchida was sitting on the ground, covered in blood. Against my better judgement, I looked to see who he was holding. In his arms was my baby brother Emil. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. I was suddenly so tired that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. All I knew was that Emil was smiling like there was nothing wrong and he wasn’t dying. “A-Alex. C-Come h-here. P-please. I need you.” Emil stuttered, holding out a shaking hand towards me. Fuchida looked at me with wary eyes. He looked like he was trying not to cry. I pulled Emil into my lap and he groaned. The sound almost brought me to tears. “Ally. I-I don’t want y-you to be m-mad at J-Ja… J-Ja… Oh whatever his name is. I-It’s long a-and hard to r-remember. H-He tried to p-p-protect me a-a-an’… J-Just please.” Emil let out a heaving breath, causing the broadsword in his stomach to move, “I w-w-want you to k-know that h-he tried his best t-to protect me.” I smiled softly, brushing stray pieces of hair from Emil’s face. “You’re rambling again sweetheart.” I looked at Fuchida, who had his head in his hands. “Fu- Jackson. Come here.” Fuchida glanced at me with tear filled eyes. He crawled over and placed his head on my shoulder. This made Emil smile weakly. “P-Please protect e-each other w-while I’m g-g-g-gone. I l-love you b-both so m-much. You’re b-both like b-brothers t-to me.” And with that, my beloved baby brother was gone. Fuchida grabbed something off the ground and almost ripped it to shreds before I managed to convince him to give it to me. It was a note and it said:

Dear Alex, I know this is very sudden but I need you to do something for me. I know you have the dragon mark and I also know that Jackson Fuchida is in your company. I want you to find Olliver Sanders and meet me in my fortress on the top of Cannonball Hill. There, we will drain you of your power and, in return, you will get to see your little brother again. Do we have a deal? Ta ta for now~ Octavian

I resisted the urge to scream. “Hey, Fuchida. Do you think Parvati will mind if I steal you for a couple months?” All Fuchida did was look at me like I was crazy. I got that look a lot.