#I can usually manage a few sentences about the basics and that's it

[running-in-the-dark]

just realised I've got a week left to finish my thesis. a week. one. fucking. week.

and it's still not enough. I'm not getting the last minute panic adrenaline that I'd need to get it done. I just do not care.

I try. I do try! it just doesn't work. doesn't matter how long I sit there. I've tried the 'just write anything! you can edit later!' advice but there is.. nothing.. in my head. I can't absorb any of the shit I read because I just do not care I don't want to think about this anymore I don't care I just don't care I just want to go away and never think about this again

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐔𝐏

summary: when you forget to bring your jacket, an unlikely hero comes to your rescue; is there more to his chivalrous action than meets the eye?

pairing: kaiser x gn! reader

warnings: fluff, kaiser being kaiser; i’m still on hiatus but i have to free this idea from my mind or it won’t let me go, also i thought it was super fun when they spoke german in the manga so here we are

blue lock masterlist

“Is it me or is it chillier than normal in here?” You asked, rubbing your palms over your goosebump-ridden arms. As an assistant manager, you’d been next to the pitch more often than you could count, but on this day it seemed like someone turned up the AC.

“Hm, dunno. Seems normal to me,” Kurona said after contemplating for a few seconds. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”

“I don’t feel like it, no,” you wondered aloud as you watched the Bastard München and FC Barcha players walk onto the court. As much as you’d hate to miss the beginning of the Neo Egoist League, perhaps you should make the track back to your room. “I think I’ll go grab my jacket—“

Your sentence was cut off by fabric covering your head, making you flinch in the sudden darkness.

“Hier, nimm meine. (Here, take mine.)” A voice that had quickly become familiar since the foreign teams were introduced passed by and when you lifted the front of the jacket, you found none other than Michael Kaiser in your field of view. As usual, he was looking rather smug for no reason whatsoever.

Still, he was one of the last people you’d expect to help you out, so the raise of your eyebrow was somewhat inevitable.

“Versteh mich nicht falsch, (Don’t get me wrong,)” he continued, cerulean eyes trained on you, “ich mach das nur, dass du von Anfang an zusehen kannst, wie ich Blue Lock vernichte. (I’m only doing this so you can watch from the beginning as I crush Blue Lock.)

“Und da ich sowieso nicht auf die Bank gehöre, macht’s mir nichts aus, wenn jemand meine Jacke aufwärmt. (Also, since I won't be benched anyway, I don’t mind having someone warm up my jacket for me.)” And with that, he sauntered off towards the centre of the field, the self-satisfied grin still tugging on his lips.

“He’s such a jackass,” Raichi scoffed, his jaw locked and a vein protruding from his neck. “Now I wanna play even more, just so I can teach him a lesson.”

“Now now, let’s not get hasty,” you chuckled, holding the Bastard München jacket in your hands. “As much as I understand where you’re coming from, I don’t think it’s a good idea to pick a fight with our guests on the first match day.”

The fact that you knew about the auction system and livestream you’d keep hidden for now.

“While I really don’t like the guy,” Kurona cut in before Raichi could add anything else, “I still think you should wear the jacket. It won’t do anyone any good if you really get sick. You can still go get yours after the match.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I agree,” Isagi sighed next to him. “It is probably for the best.”

“Fine, fine,” you mumbled, sliding your arms through the comfortable sleeves of Kaiser’s jacket, bunching it up at your wrists so it wouldn’t cover your fingers.

And with that, the whistle signalled the start of the match.

To no one’s surprise, the match was shaping up to be a great one from the start, the quality and speed of the plays upped significantly with the inclusion of the top league players. Though, for some reason or another, you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from München’s number 10, the same number currently decorating your back.

You knew Kaiser was good, considering he was hailed as a prodigy for the New Generation World XI. And yet, seeing him play was a whole different experience from watching the tapes. From his superb ball control to his efficient movements and precise awareness of the field, all culminating in a lightning fast Kaiser Impact, he basically demanded your attention to be on him.

So when his gaze crossed yours after scoring a goal, you felt like you were getting caught red handed by the amused crease of his eyes. With the way heat shot up your body in embarrassment, you might not have needed his jacket anymore.

By the end of the match, your brain felt as tired as if you had played yourself, trying to keep up with the new level to which football at Blue Lock had been raised. Subsequently, you zoned out for most of Ego’s explanation of the auction system, only to zone back in as Kaiser’s 300 million Yen bid was displayed for everyone to see. And while you swallowed hard at that number, the striker in question seemed rather unfazed.

Instead, he sauntered over to where you were standing, still wearing his jacket. You were halfway out of the garment already when he came to a halt in front of you, his long fingers tangling in the fabric to keep it wrapped around your shoulders.

“Hast du nicht gesagt, dir ist kalt? (Didn’t you say you were cold?)” He asked, blue eyes sparkling down at you with an unreadable expression. “Behalt sie an. Zumindest bis du deine eigene holst. (Keep it on. At least until you get your own.)”

“What? No!” You protested, further trying to shrug off the jacket. Despite shoving it back down to where it came from, a small part of you agreed with him, not wanting to give it back quite yet. “You need it more than I do!”

“Hm? Es ist süß, dass du dich um mich sorgst, (It’s cute that you’re worried about me),” he teased, amusement written all over his face, “aber es ist wirklich unnötig. (but, really, it’s unnecessary.)”

“Absolutely not! If you get sick because of me, I’ll never hear the end of it,” you groaned, finally wrestling yourself out of his jacket and shoving it in his arms. “So just take the damn jacket, Kaiser.”

“Nenn mich einfach Michael, okay?) Just call me Michael, alright?)” One finger tilted up your chin, so you wouldn’t avoid meeting his gaze any longer. “Immerhin kennen wir uns gut genug, dass du dir meine Jacke leihst. (After all, we’re close enough for you to borrow my jacket.)”

“Whatever you’re trying to play here, cut it out!” Before he could have a chance to feel the heat rising to your cheeks, you whirled around to make a swift exit and get your thoughts in order again. 

In that moment, you were so distracted by the blond, you’d forgotten the whole world could see you wearing his name on your back. You’d later be reminded of it when seeing comments flooding social media, cooing about the gesture or speculating about your relationship with one another. But that was still far from your mind at present, which was still trying to figure out his reasons for behaving like he did.

Meanwhile Kaiser, who watched you retreat into Blue Lock’s hallways, couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at his lips. Perhaps someone here was worthy of devoting his time to after all.

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

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[httpvomitello]

hey so how do you think the bayverse boys would deal with having a s/o where on the news, it says that the apartment above their’s, someone got murdered. And then suddenly with weird timing, they just hear something rolling behind them and someone huff and sit on their couch. They look over and see their s/o with a suitcase and saying “I’m gonna live here now”. They’re staying here for the next month or two cuz you know, murderers might still be in the building and s/o doesn’t wanna be next. Also if the boys want to deal with it, s/o basically knows what went down and can tell them?

Hello, hello! I hope you like it ♡♡♡♡

Leonardo

When you walk in with a suitcase and tell him someone got murdered in your building, Leo’s calm on the outside but inside, he's panicking

His first thought?

I should’ve been there to protect you

He won’t let you leave the lair for anything

"You’re staying here. No arguments.”

His tone leaves no room for negotiation

The thought of you being anywhere near that danger makes him feel sick

The longer you stay with him, the more on edge Leo gets

He’s constantly worrying about whether the murderer will come after you next

Leo wants to protect you but struggles with not being able to solve everything

He hates that you had to come to him in fear

"I should've stopped it before it even happened," he mutters one night

You remind him it’s not his fault, but he doesn’t seem convinced

Despite everything, you know Leo won't stop until he finds the killer

But one night, you ended up giving him a little earful, making him calm down a little.

Raphael

When you tell him what happened, Raph’s first reaction is pure rage

“Wait, you’re tellin’ me there was a murder right above you? And you’re just NOW telling me?”

He’s angry, at the situation, not you, but you can tell he’s freaked out inside

He won’t show it at first, but Raph feels guilty

The fact that you were that close to danger eats at him.

He’s punching the training dummy harder than usual, throwing himself into workouts as a way to blow off steam

“I shoulda been there.”

You staying with him makes him feel more protective, but also more on edge

He tries to act like it’s no big deal, but deep down, he’s scared of losing you

"If anything happens to you…"

He doesn't finish the sentence, but you know what he means

One night, you catch him snapping at his brothers and pacing the lair like a caged animal

"I hate this. You being in danger, and me not being able to do a damn thing about it!"

He doesn’t want to admit how scared he is, but you can see it in his eyes

He only managed to calm down when you dragged him to the bedroom and lay down together

For the rest of the night, you were the one calming Raph down and reassuring him that everything was going to be okay.

Donatello

The moment you tell Donnie about the murder, he’s already thinking about how to secure your old apartment

“Did they catch the guy? No? Okay, you’re staying here. No question.”

Donnie tries to play it cool, but his anxiety is through the roof

He spends hours obsessively monitoring your building through hacked security feeds and checking news reports

He doesn't mind spending a few more days awake just to catch the killer who can hurt you too

He can’t relax until he knows the threat is gone, and even then, he’s still tense

You wake up a few nights to find Donnie hunched over his computers, working on something

"Donnie, it’s 3 AM," you say, rubbing your eyes

He barely looks up. "I need to make sure everything’s secure before you even think about going back."

There’s a tremble in his voice, he’s scared to let you go

The stress finally gets to him

One night, after days of little sleep and constant worry, Donnie breaks down

"I-I can’t lose you. What if they come after you next? What if I’m not fast enough to stop it?"

You have to remind him that he’s already done everything he can to keep you safe

You had to ask Master Splinter for help to get Donnie into bed, but when he finally did, it didn't take long for him to close his eyes and fall asleep

And as you lay down next to him, your worry eased a little

The following afternoon, the killer was arrested.

Michelangelo

Mikey’s first reaction is shock

"Whoa, wait—someone got murdered?!"

He’s usually the carefree one, but the idea that something so dangerous happened near you?

It freaks him out more than he lets on

He tries to keep things light when you move in

“Guess you’re moving in with me then, huh? Roomies!”

But deep down, Mikey’s scared. He doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened to you

One night, after everyone else is asleep, Mikey quietly admits how scared he is

"I know I act like it’s all cool, but... I’m terrified, y'know? What if that guy comes after you next? What if I’m not fast enough to help you?"

Hearing him confess his fears hits hard

Mikey sticks close to you, always wanting to be near

He’s always checking in

“Need anything? Another pizza? Some nunchucks?”

He’ll distract you with his usual antics, but his hugs linger a little longer, and you can see the fear behind his smile

So, to calm him down, you proposed an all-night video game marathon

And it worked...

Until Master Splinter shows up and tells you off for being up so late at night

But it was worth it, because in the end, Mikey seemed to be calmer than he had been on other days.

[sexilene]

Hi angel! thoughts on 80s!slasher!jj ?? I loveee ur work btw! sending hugs and kisses! 💗

ofccc!! this is fun lol - 80s!slasher!jj

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, violence, jealous!jj, death, slight breeding kink, threats, obsessed!jj, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

you and jj would have never become friends if you both hadn't met while working together at the little fast-food diner inside the mall. he was usually working in the back, preparing the food, and you were usually on server duty. with your short white tennis skirt and the diner polo shirt uniform you could usually draw attention from guys who wanna take you out and possibly eat you, you were so sweet. but there were days when you and jj would both be on cashier duty, those were his and your favorite days, it was basically like hanging out all day side by side.

as the day dragged on it was getting closer to closing time, thank goodness you thought, already super exhausted. after a few minutes a group of preppy jerk jocks come in, one of the guys walking up to your register with a stupid smirk on his face, danny. "hey babygirl, can i get uh, the number 5 with a milkshake anduh- your number? " he tilts his head up, proud of his little pickup line. you shake your head with a small smile and silently scoff at his stupidity. jj who is currently helping another customer, listens in and watches the interaction by side eyeing you both every few seconds. jj's jaw ticks as he tries to let you handle it. 

"a number 5 will that be all?" you continue to try and be professional with a sweet smile. 

"uh no actually, how about- you let me take you to the prom," he smirks again.

"i'm actually out of town that day so-" you tilt your head and act uninterested. 

"oh cuhmon- it'll be fun, you know you want to. i even booked a hotel room for that night and we'll-" danny persists further until he's interrupted by jj who snaps his head toward us. 

"she said no man." jj warns, danny's mouth agape as he turns over to look at jj. 

"was i talking to you maybank? cuz uh- i don't think i was." danny snickers almost trying to size jj up. 

"i don't give a shit, she's clearly not interested." jj squints his eyes and nods to himself. 

"oh woah! you've got yourself a little protector huh? no way this guy is your boyfriend right?" the guy turns to you and then back to jj. "i mean look at you! she's a total betty and you...you and your deadbeat dad aren't even good enough to scrape the dirt off our shoes." the boy scoffs and the rest of his friends snicker on cue.

jj tongues his cheek and grins in faux amusement, the guy turns around to walk off like a winner when jj reaches his arm out and taps the guy's shoulder. "hey man you forgot your-" jj grabs one of the milkshakes ready on the counter and throws it in the asshole's face, 'ruining' danny's gelled hair and expensive polo shirt. the diner fills with gasps, 'ooohs' and snickers.

"milkshake." jj finishes his sentence, and laughes through his nose. you stand there eyes wide as danny wipes the melted pink milk off his eyelids. "quit fuckin' around and get outta here" jj shoos the guy away with the motion of his hand as the humiliated boy walks away shouting back loudly "you are so dead maybank!" 

"whata piece of shit." jj mumbles and slams his hand on the counter and turns to see the manager shaking his head, disappointed. jj goes into the kitchen leaving you there to process what just happened. 

as the restaurant was about to close, you and jj were the only ones left, since you would have been closing together that night. the manager did fire him but somehow managed to stick around without him seeing jj.

you decided to let him do this thing inside the kitchen while you did the final table wipe-downs and setting up everything for tomorrow morning, time after time playing in the background. you hear some concerning noises coming from the kitchen area, knowing only jj was in there makes you stop and wonder why all the banging?, when another loud scary sound can be heard throughout the diner. you run behind the counter and around the corner to see what was making that noise, your eyes land on danny, dead, laying flat on his back on the floor with his face all burnt, bubbling, and bloody. you let out a horrified scream and cover your mouth immediately afterward, stumbling backward a bit and feeling nauseous. 'how did danny even end up back here?' you thought.

you feel your back bump into something, and you let out another spooked yelp, you feel two strong hands spin you around and when you look up, you realize it's only jj. 

"jj, danny...he must have- the deep fryer-" you stutter, and he shushes you "i know, i know."

"we have to call the police! i-is he dead? oh god, i'm gonna be sick..." tears start to fall down your cheeks, terrified and confused by how jj isn't freaking out or doing anything about it. you squirm out of his grip and back away from him.

"jj? did you hurt danny? oh my god, did you burn his face off?" you ask with wide eyes, chest heaving. 

jj nods but he doesn't look remorseful. you start to burst out in tears, unsure of what to do, you look over at the door and back over at jj who gives you a look of warning. he's all sweaty and dirty, his white shirt stained with grease and blood. 

the jukebox continues to play music, where otherwise silence would fill the diner. you decide to make a run for the door, but he beats you to that. jj manages to stand in front of you, clenching his jaw and squinting his eyes. 

"i did that for you, i did it to protect you." he spits, looking down at you in disappointment. 

"you're scaring me jj" you whine.

"why? i think you're being ungrateful." he whispers, looking down at you.

"you murdered him! jj you'll get in so much trouble, they'll know you did it!"

"no, manager man thought i left already..and i'll get him outta here so" he shrugs.

you whine again, eyes moving towards where danny was lying on the ground. jj snaps his fingers in front of your face to get you to pay attention to him again. 

"what you want him? you liked that guy? huh?" he spits out frustratedly. you shake your head no, now too afraid to even speak "what so now im the bad guy? cause i got rid of him for YOU!" he shouts and you flinch, unsure of what to do now. 

"you know what, fine, i think i deserve a little thank you don't you think?" he clenches his jaw again and yanks at your top pulling you to the other side of the counter, overlooking danny's corpse. 

he bends you over and yanks your skirt down, you begin to cry when you realize what he's going to do. "no, jj no, i'm scared please" you sob too frozen in fear to move. 

"you should see what i did with the rest of the bodies" he laughs quietly and reaches his hand around your waist to meanly grab your poor cunt, then pulling your panties to the side. you look down at the bloody dead body again and shut your eyes tight, then you feel jj's fat tip teasing your hole, sliding in your stickiness. "no, you are supposed to be my friend jj! friends don't do this!" you mewl.

he wraps his arm around your neck, trapping you in a headlock when he starts to push in to keep you from thrashing around. "shush, s'fine see? s'fine drama queen." he grunts in your ear, starting to slowly thrust in and out. 

part of you wishes you had the strength to kick him off of you, but the other half is in heaven. "look at danny, you want him? wanna go to the prom with that? hmm?" he taunts, squeezing you tighter in the headlock with his beefy arms when you don't respond which makes you let out a whimpery moan. 

"no! no, i don't wanna keep looking at him! it's making me sick!" you cry.

"i know, i know...grossing you out kinda turns me on though," he grunts again and laughs. he spits in his hand and uses that to sloppily rub your clit. the feeling of his spit mixed with your wetness makes you whine.

he keeps on pounding your pussy, letting you out of the headlock, and pushing your tits to press against the countertop. he smiles at all the little 'uh-uh's' you let out with each thrust. 

"you feel better? yeah? you calm now?" he hums and brings his hand down to smack your ass causing you to squeal and push your ass out almost asking for more. 

"yeah, i know mama, nobody's ever gonna touch you again kay?" his voice soft, making you nod slowly and dazed. 

"say thank you and i'll let you cum." he pressures you, so close to spilling all over him. 

"mmnnm jay-"

"use your manners c'mon" he cuts you off and brings his hand down again to start to rub your clit faster.

"thank you jayjay, thank you-" your cunt pulsing around his dick as you cum hard.

"atta girl, atta girl" he praises, then pushes into you harder than before, filling you up, and pulling out. he tucks himself away and moves your panties back to cover your cunt and to keep his cum and yours pooled in them. he pats your covered pussy and lets out a satisfied hum. 

"go wait by the mall entrance n i'll take you home, jus' gonna get ridda this guy." he pats your ass and walks over to get rid of the bloody body.  ᥫ᭡

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (03)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

←Previous Chapter (02) | Next Chapter (04) →

****

Eight Years Ago; 2015

There was a small food cart on the outskirts of Incheon where two best friends frequent.

“Oi, shithead. You’ve been fucking staring at your food for twenty-two minutes already. What the fuck is wrong with you? ”

Jungkook whined, complaining about how creepy it was that his best friend knew how long he looked at his food and how you spit out three profanities in one sentence.

“Shut up.” your face turned red, embarrassed that your habit of knowing the exact time was showing. You developed this meticulousness back when you were writing your thesis paper. Time was precious. Thanks fuck you were done with it.

You graduated today. You and Jungkook were currently eating noodles to celebrate. Your best friend initially demanded that you cook his favorite crab spring roll, but your hands were tied. The graduation ceremony took forever to finish; your professors and friends even pulled you to celebrate after.

You were not a killjoy, but you didn’t want to end this day without seeing your best friend, so you quietly ditched the party and sought Jungkook’s company instead.

“You really came to see me. What a good girl you are.” Jungkook cooed when he saw you waiting at his doorstep. “ Here, your graduation gift.”

“HA!?” You were dumbfounded upon seeing his present. “You got me a choker?!”

“Of course! You are so busy these days. I got you a collar so you wouldn’t forget who you belong to.” Jungkook said in jest to conceal his selfishness. He wished you could spend more time with him, not just fleeting moments like eating spicy noodles in a small food cart, which he didn’t even like.

“Why the fuck did you order it if you don’t like spicy noodles!?” A vein popped into your head.

Jungkook groaned, “You know how much I hate upsetting a pretty lady.”

The ‘pretty lady’ Jungkook was referring to was an old lady called Louisa, the owner of the ADA--the food cart. This place was near your high school alma mater. You and Jungkook still went here despite graduating high school many years ago.

Jungkook usually ordered the shop’s best-seller crab spring rolls, which inspired you to make your version of said food. You remembered begging Louisa to teach you how to make it, but the lady couldn’t just give away her family’s recipe. She taught you the basics, and that was where you started until you got Jungkook’s approval.

Content with your version, Jungkook no longer ordered spring rolls whenever you two ate at ADA. He preferred their crab noodles, but only spicy foods were left now since you arrived late. Jungkook refused to change stalls because he adored Louisa.

“You’re really something.” You bought a can of milk for Jungkook to counter the spiciness of his noodles.

Jungkook pinched your cheeks in appreciation. He was happy that he managed to take a few bites and ignore the old man across the street who was singing out of tune.

Natsume was what the old man called himself. He had been doing his business across ADA for a long time. The only reason he wasn’t shooed away was that his performance wasn’t a song at all. He was making up random tunes while expressing what the ‘future’ of some people would be like.

In short, he was a fortune teller, and all his ‘predictions’ apparently came true.

Jungkook didn’t dare believe him. He got particularly annoyed at Natsume when he predicted his future and yours. He sang, “Fall out, fall out, you two will have a fallout. One so nasty it will break your hearts, with no hopes of returning ~.”

Jungkook still cringed every time he remembered that. He looked at you, ready to ridicule the fortune teller in front of you.

Who would have thought this was the start of the fortune teller’s prediction coming true? You shouldn’t have opened your mouth, but you did, saying, “Jungkook, what are your plans for the future?”

You were influenced by the main topic at the graduation party earlier. Everyone you knew was planning their future. You feared Jungkook wasn’t doing the same—that he wouldn’t belong.

“Haven’t I told you already? Jimin-hyung and I are committed to our business.”

Your jaw automatically ticked upon hearing Jimin’s name. You never really hated anyone, but Jimin might be the exception. Jimin was why Jungkook dropped out of university. He coaxed Jungkook into emptying his bank account for Bighit, their Business Process Outsourcing venture.

Now Jungkook was broke, only relying on his small interest in Port Mafia.

“How about school? Don’t you plan on going—”

“No.” Jungkook ruthlessly cut you off. The move didn’t deter you from speaking your mind, though.

“Why not? You only need to finish two semesters to graduate. It’s a pity you’re settling with just this.”

“Just what?” Jungkook raised his brow, irritation flaring up. He had a hunch of what you were implying.

Sure enough, you swallowed hard to cover your nervousness. “With this…I mean…dropouts are…” You struggled to find the right words to say.

Jungkook huffed, supplying the words for you. “…are what? Stupid? Lazy? Unambitious? Or a waste of time?”

“Oi, don’t put words into my mouth.” You hissed, getting pissed off too.

“But that’s what you wanted to say, right? You think lowly of me. You’re just like the rest of them.”

Jungkook heard all kinds of snide remarks when he dropped out of university. His adviser even called him a lost cause— that he would never be successful if he didn’t finish school.

  Bullshit.

Jungkook felt acid crawling up to his throat. “People like you think you’re above everyone just cause you have a degree, right? Arrogant.”

You lost your composure because of how hurtful he was being.

“So what if I’m arrogant!?” You dropped your chopsticks, no longer in the mood to eat. “I’ve earned a degree. I’m finished with my commitment, unlike you, who quit and only settled with faking smiles and licking the butt holes of people richer than you!”

“You--!” Jungkook clenched his fist. He always knew his best friend had a sharp mouth. You said things that made sense, but damn, they hurt. This wasn’t the first time you said something biting, but it was the first time you had hurt Jungkook’s feelings.

It was too late when you realized what you had said. Jungkook’s eyes were already red. You knew Jungkook hated fake pleasantries and wooing greedy businessmen, yet you used those things as a weapon to hurt him.

Truly a low blow.

“Screw you.” Jungkook spat before storming off.

Feeling defeated, you didn’t run after him, deciding to just go home alone and leave Jungkook to cool off.

But the following day, you found yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment. The thing about you was you couldn’t bear fighting for real with your best friend. Bickering with him was fine, but you’d rather die than really hurt Jungkook.

You rang the doorbell. It was early in the morning. 4am. Every second that passed knowing you and Jungkook were not okay was like a stab in your heart.

Surely, Jungkook had calmed down. If he hadn’t, you would accept any kind of punishment. You just wanted to see him.

“Come on.” You pressed the doorbell once again. It never took Jungkook two rings to open the door for you, so you seriously considered breaking in.

But to your delight, the door swung open before you could do something stupid.

“What is it?” Stone cold voice hit you on the face.

A lot. You wanted to convey many things, such as apologizing and saying Jungkook had misunderstood your point. However, looking at your best friend’s still angry face left you no choice but to lower your eyes. Your heart felt like it was pricked by thousands of needles.

You knew you were in the wrong. You could only raise the paper bag you were holding.

“I made crab spring rolls. Do you want them?”

“What makes you think I want them?” Jungkook crossed his arms, which caused you to swallow hard.

You bit your lip too, looking at Jungkook despite your guilt. “You’re right, you might not want them anymore, but I can only bring this hoping you’d accept my apology and also...also to—”

You weren’t planning to bring this up while still outside Jungkook’s home, but you couldn’t bear to look at his angry face anymore.

You voiced out your trump card. Your last resort. “—to ask you if you’re willing to guide me on investing at Bighit?”

As expected, Jungkook was shocked. His lips parted wide. “Why? You don’t mind licking butt holes with me?”

“Oh, for Fuck’s sake!” You pushed the paper bag into Jungkook’s chest. “I was wrong, okay? I’m an arrogant devil. ”

You craned your neck, purposely showing off the choker adorning your neck.

Fire danced in Jungkook’s eyes. He lowered the paper bag to cover the bulge in his sweatpants.

Fucking hell, you’re so hot. Jungkook scolded himself, forced to contour his expression to neutral.

“Then what are you waiting for? Come in.”

Needless to say, you left Jungkook’s apartment feeling grateful that you had a choker to cover some obvious bite marks.

Present, 2023:

“Pwetty lady! Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want!” A certain someone was banging the top of ADA’s table, almost as if he couldn’t wait for even one more second.

“Hey, kiddo. You already ate seven pieces.” You folded your arms across your chest, your brows furrowing at the small child sitting before you.

The said the child pouted his lips, his eyes losing their sparks.

Jungkook’s sparkling eyes were still vivid in your mind, probably because you had just finished reminiscing about what had happened five years ago. As a result, you couldn’t help but associate this kid with your former best friend.

You always thought that Jungkook’s eyes could replace the stars. It was your weakness. Those eyes made you want to dig your heart out and give it to Jungkook for free. The universe knew about this, so why must you suffer it the second time?

Why did Soobin, the kid in front of you, have to have the same sparkly eyes as Jungkook?

“Spring roll! Want!” They even had the same favorite food.

You scoffed. Like father like son, huh?

“A brat dares to make demands when he can’t pronounce the words right? Spring yoll, my ass.” You mocked the kid.

Soobin ignored you. He continued banging on the table.

“Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want! Spring yoll!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll buy you more. Just you wait, young master.” You playfully rolled your eyes, giving in to the request of your adoptive son.

“Is it that good?” You took one piece of spring roll. It had been many years since you last tasted this. Back then, you’d rather have Jungkook eat them all.

“Good! Very good!” Soobin stuffed another piece inside his mouth, clearly enjoying it.

The kid was right. The crab spring roll was delicious. It tasted the same way it did five years ago. You unconsciously gripped your phone, fixing your gaze on the screen as if waiting for a New Year’s miracle.

But it never came.

Last night, you met up with Jungkook, hoping to talk to him. Unexpectedly, Jungkook was drunk.

Now that he was sober, you thought he would call.

What wishful thinking.

“But nothing’s changed.” You thought to yourself as you looked around the place. ADA was still open for business; its famous spring rolls were still loved by many. Even Natsume was still singing across the street. The only difference was that you couldn’t hear the old man singing.

ADA expanded its business. They now had alfresco dining. You chose to eat inside the restaurant, afraid Soobin would catch a cold.

Everything stayed the same except for people. Back then, you went to ADA with your best friend. Years later, you went to ADA with your former best friend’s kid.

You could only swallow the bitterness down your stomach.

“Full! Wanna go home! Sleep!” Soobin said after eating the last piece of spring roll.

You hummed, “We’ll go home in a while. Count one to one hundred first.”

Soobin threw dirty looks at you as if to say, “This young master doesn’t know how to count!” You laughed a little. Of course, he couldn’t count up to a hundred yet. He was still so young.

So young.

But someone had already missed a few years of Soobin’s life.

You looked at your phone again.

Still no call.

“Alright, Bin-bin. Let’s go home.”

At last, you and your son left the food shop. As you two walked out, the horrible singing voice of the fortune teller reached your ears.

His lyrics were as nasty as before. Soobin covered his ears in annoyance, asking you to walk faster as he didn’t want to hear Natsume sing:

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

the boy saw black

and the girl saw red

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

how cruel it is

to have you waiting

for someone who can’t

 even

breathe.

****

←Previous Chapter (02) | Next Chapter (04) →

A/N: comments motivate me to write. leave some if you can ~~ ❤️

[st4rymoon]

can i request a smut!!!

so basically steven is a porn star and he’s roommates with the fem!reader and she didn’t know what his job was because he always was cooped up in his room but he always pays rent on time and when the reader was feeling needy she finds one his videos and he catches her and the once so shy steven disappeared

if not feel free to ignore 😭

This has me giggling and kicking my feet up…

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 • 𝘙𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

- 18+, prn star Steven!, sex toys, masterbation, unprotected sex, mean Steven, choking, degrading, p in v, slight fingering, arguing, horny Steven & reader, teasing, language, porn, reader gets caught watching Steven’s porn! Vids, bratty reader, pet names, pussy job!, belly bulge, big dick! Steven

You were delighted knowing you had such a pleasant roommate. After dozens of roommate horror stories told to you by your friends, you were more than happy to find that your roommate was always locked up in his room.

Steven, a British, brown haired gentleman was one of the first people to call for the open room. He was timid to say the least, quiet, and polite.

Even though your interactions were limited, they were always enjoyable. Both of you willingly making dinner for each other every now and then. He loved to talk about Egyptian history, he seemed to be your own personal google when it came to it.

You never questioned the fair amount of packages this man managed to get. Never questioning it due to the fact that he was a nerd, probably some books or figures of Egyptian gods

“Steven another one of your packages arrived” you yelled out as you shut the door behind you, the packages seemed to be never-ending for him.

“Ah- thank you!” He blurted out as he came running out and pulled it out of your hands “so many packages huh!” You joked. He chuckled softly with a smile and went back into his room.

You always wondered what he got up to in his room. Always buried in his room, random music playing at night and muffled noises coming from his bedroom.

Anyone in their right mind would guess he had someone over by the way he’d always keep his door closed but you’d never seen anyone come in or out other than Steven.

“Want anything love? I’m heading out for some food” Steven asked as he walked past the couch. He gave you a flirty wink as he tucked his wallet into his pocket.

“I- I I’m fine thank you” you muttered taken by surprise by the added love in his sentence. “No worries, I’ll be back in a few” he nodded as he shut the door behind him.

You sat in your thoughts for a few moments. Love?

You could tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while by the way that little show of affection had you heated. You’d always thought Steven was attractive but it was always platonic.

You had no clue that Steven would fuck himself in front of his camera as he thought about his hand being yours. You wouldn’t suspect the amount of flesh lights and silicon pussy’s he had locked up in his room.

You rushed into your room, he usually took a few hours whenever he’d go out for some food so you didn’t hesitate to pull out your laptop and look for something to entertain you with.

Looking for porn was difficult to say the least, everything was so boring now and days. You’d go on Twitter in hopes of finding something more your taste.

You clicked and swiped through dozens of pages, none of them catching your attention. You were about to give up until you noticed a familiar bedding, your eyes went wide as you watched.

There was no way.

You noticed your roommates bedding. It’s a coincidence. The person on screen moaned, cock in hand as he jerked himself off. You gasped as the camera shook a bit, allowing you to catch a glimpse of Steven’s distinguishable posters. His pretty face being cut half way off screen with only his mouth in view. You knew it was Steven, how couldn’t it be?

Sure you couldn’t see him completely but it was him. No doubt. The caption reading can’t help but close my eyes and fuck myself to the thought of you as he began to shake. His thick white ropes of cum painting his hand and stomach as he whined and panted out in a shaky tone.

Then you scrolled deeper and were met with the visual of his cock sliding in and out of a fake silicon pussy with a thick white ring of his pre cum forming at the base of his cock.

Just like that yea- oh fuck he cried out. You were completely dumbfounded. You could feel the slick pooling into your panties as you watched hypnotized.

He was fucking huge. The silicon stretched as it adjusted with each of his thrusts, the lewd sounds of the lube and skin slapping together was sinful.

You were laying on your tummy with your laptop in front of you as Steven came in with a handful of cake for you, your favorite midnight snack.

You didn’t notice the sound of the door as you watched in a trance, Steven freezing as he saw himself on your screen. He smiled to himself, finally you’ve found it.

He placed the plate on your drawer as he stood with his arms crossed “having fun?” He cooed. You slammed your laptop closed as you shuffled up onto your bed “I-someone sent me that I was ju-“

“Uh huh uh huh” he nodded “you aren’t a good liar love” he laughed. “So those were all the packages” you awkwardly joked as he smiled down at you “do you do that a lot?” He asked.

“Do what?”

“Do you watch porn a lot” he asked nonchalantly “I- I mean just when I feel like it” you muttered with your face down.

“And what’s got you feeling like it”

You watched Steven closely and noticed he seemed much more confident compared to his usual self. He was leaning on your drawer with his arms wrapped on his chest with a cocky smile on his face.

“You gonna answer?”

“Gosh Steven I watch it when I’m horny! Is that what you wanted to hear! Yes girls watch porn” you semi screamed. “Such an attitude when im just asking a question” he cooed.

“It’s not an attitude. I get horny just the way you do, the only difference being I don’t find it satisfying to fuck a toy.“ you hissed.

“Ouch” he pouted “are you jealous of a toy now?” He smiled “I’m not one to go around and slut myself out, it’s alright if you do”

You looked at him in shock, no fucking way he just called you a slut?

“I’m a slut? I don’t go sleeping around either you piece of shit! And if I did it wouldn’t be any of your business. I don’t like dildos big fucking deal. Now I understand why you have to fuck a damn toy” you scoffed.

Steven had a cheeky smile on his face, it looked almost as if he was enjoying getting on your nerves. “Are you mad I’m not fucking you instead?” He grinned.

“I noticed the way your pretty little eyes lit up as you watched the video, not to mention the way you walk around the flat with flimsy panties on and a tee. I notice it just like you notice me in my sweats”

You squeezed your legs together as the look in his eyes made your stomach turn. You really hope he makes a move.

He walked over to the side of your bed and plotted down besides you “I can see it in your eyes, the way you want me to make a move” he hummed.

“Tell me you don’t me too. Tell me to get out” he cooed “I want it, don’t go please” you moaned. “I know you do” he smiled, a gasp escaped your lips as he pressed his lips onto your neck.

He sloppily kissed up your neck, hand moving behind your head for a better grip “Steven” you purred. He chuckled as you pushed him onto your pillows. You straddled his hips as he pulled his shirt off with no trouble.

“Ah ah let me do it for you” he cooed as he swatted your hands away from your shirt. Steven pulled your top off in a slow, sensual manner. His hands roaming your body as he took in all your beauty.

His hands snaked onto your hips, allowing him to flip you over so he could cage you in. He couldn’t resist running his hands down your tummy knowing he’d be able to see himself bulging through you.

He’d always pretend he was holding you like this while filming, he’d buck his hips into his fist pretending it was your tight cunt hugging around him.

You giggled as he spread your legs wide. He was getting you in the position he always wanted to take you, just the way he fucked his pathetic flesh light. “Such pretty panties love, such a shame they’ll be all messy by the time I’m done” he chuckled.

There was something hypnotizing about the sight in front of you. Steven pulling his sweats off as his stomach curled with his movements had you squirming under him.

“You’re just so desperate to be used aren’t you? Look at you” Steven purred as he moved your panties to the side. He held a tight fist around the thin cloth as he scooted towards you “look at the that”

Steven’s eyes were blown out at the sight of your tight cunt gushing slick. He couldn’t help but push two fingers deep inside you and pull them out for a taste.

“Steven please” you whined. “I know sweetheart, you just want me to make you feel good” he coyly replied. “I’ll make you my new personal toy yeah? Give my fans something real to look at” he hummed as he rubbed himself between your folds.

You mewled at the sensation of Steven fucking himself between your folds with a harsh grip on one thigh as his other held your panties to the side. “I don’t even need to lube you up doll, you’re all wet and ready”

Both of you let out a heavy sigh as Steven sunk into you. The stretch of you cunt making his vision go blurry as he noticed himself bulge through your tummy with half his length in you.

The man you once knew was no where to be found as you dumbly stared into Steven’s eyes. He had your legs spread wide, cock pounding you onto the sheets as he ruined your panties.

He payed no mind to your yelp as you heard the rip of the flimsy panties. He sighed as he finally got them out of the way “are you sure you don’t go sleeping around? You seem to be good at this” he cooed. “F- fuck you!” You whined as his hands wrapped around your waist with his thumbs right above your belly button.

He held onto you like you were too precious to lose and fucked you like he hated you, there was no going back for neither of you. “Sss- stevennn oh my fucking godddd” you cried as his hands snaked up around your neck.

He had you at an angled position, hips slightly off the bed as he used the extra grip as leverage. His hips rammed onto the back of your thighs as his moans grew louder with every thrust.

“You’ll be perfect as a porn star, the sounds you make will make everyone wish they were the ones getting them out of you” he hummed. Your orgasm tingled up your body as you cried out Steven’s name, cunt fluttering around him as you gasped.

“That’s it” he seethed, hips fucking into you harder as he grew closer to the edge “a- fuck lov- better than anything I could wish fo- ah!” Steven hissed as his hips came to a halt.

He was buried so deep you were clawing at his back, your hands pulling him in as you hugged onto him. Steven panted into the crook of your neck and held onto you for dear life. Steven’s sweet moans filled your ears as he spilled his loads in you.

Last night was definitely the last time he’d be posting himself fucking his stupid toys, he’s got something better than silicon now.

[belovedcloud]

I saw one of your latest fics (PERFECT HONEY🤍) and I just thought you were a great writer and it was like so cute and soft AAARGH

and then I also saw that you were accepting requests and I couldn't help but get excited, because I had an idea the other day - BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE 😭 so...

I was thinking about a short story fluff like with re2r Leon, where he still works at the police station but kind of without those traumatizing events YOU KNOW (or idk, you decide) so,,, he already knows Claire, who works in a cozy café near the police station where Leon usually goes on his break,buttt,, a new employee arrived (reader) and became friends with Claire (and kind of attracted Leon's attention 🥀) and idk, she (you decide if you want to use a feminine or neutral pronoun;) could work as a barista or waitress and was kind to Leon, until Leon started going to the cafe more often just to see her (or babbling about how pretty she is with Claire) until he found the courage to ask for her number or talk properly with her and, I don't know, this could end in a date or just Leon being a fool in love with a kind barista or waitress :)

IDK I AM DELULU BUT I KIND OF THOUGHT OF SOMETHING LIKE THAT

so...feel free to ignore this if you found it boring hun ^^ Thank you in advance for reading this thought and if you want to accept the idea ;)🩷🩷

Sweet Treats | Leon Kennedy x Barista! Fem! Reader

Notes: My first request! I hope you like this, I honestly found this concept so cute, and I love writing for RE2R Leon.

WC: 1.7K

CW: Fluffy Leon, no outbreak, Leon just being a clutz sometimes. Claire being your wingwoman basically and getting you both together. Mention of Y/N like once.

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After his first week in the RPD, Leon managed to get himself to work early enough to not get a lecture from Lieutenant Branagh. Soon enough, he met Chris Redfield who worked for S.T.A.R.S. Which quickly led to Chris taking him to a nearby café where his sister worked. Claire was a sweet girl, Leon and her slowly opened up to each other after a few days. Promptly, he became a regular customer. Getting the same raspberry and white chocolate muffin alongside a vanilla latte. Today was no different, Leon entering the café - however, he didn't see Claire at the counter. But you.

Leon couldn't help but think you were the prettiest girl he had seen. Trying to avert his eyes from your face he felt his legs subconsciously walk over to where Claire was sweeping the floor. "Morning Claire... New employee?" He mumbled as he nodded his head over to your direction. "Yeah! She came in yesterday. Super sweet." She laughed, taking out the tea towel as she wiped down the coffee table. "You don't have to be scared Leon." Claire couldn't help but snicker as she stared at Leon mentally psyching himself up to not fuck up his order. "I'm not scared.." He yipped back, before walking up to the counter.

Your hands slowly wrapped around the mug handle as you polished the inside of it, oblivious to the man in front of you. A quiet tap of the bell seized your attention, looking up to see a dark blonde haired man staring at your movements. "Oh! Sorry, hold on I'll only be a minute." You frantically rush back to the mug stack, gently placed it on top before returning to the stranger. "Sorry about that, what can I get you?" A bright smile is plastered on your face as you tap onto the half broken machine, trying to input your worker code. "Uh.. please could I get the raspberry white chocolate muffin and a vanilla latte?" Leon asked, fumbling with his thumbs below the counter. Thank fuck he didn't mess up his sentence. His hands slowly travelled to his face as he swept the hair out of his eyes, maybe he really should get a trim...

"Yeah of course! That'll be $6.24 please." Leon fumbled with his wallet after taking out $10. "You can keep the change." Leon uttered as the cash register opened, the till jittering out. You couldn't help but smile sweetly as he offered the change to you. "Are you sure?" He nodded as he saw you put the tip in your pocket. "Thanks... I'll get that for you straight away." Your body shifted towards the coffee machine. Leon couldn't help but admire the way you performed your job, it was somehow so different to how Claire would do it. You were angelic in your movements - his thoughts soon interrupted as he felt someone tap his shoulder. "In love?" Claire teased, earning a nudge from Leon's elbow into her side. "Ouch! Okay.. okay." She laughed as she went behind the counter, packaging Leon's muffin. You couldn't help but glance at Leon's smile. He was cute, super cute.

A few minutes later, a warm takeaway coffee cup and muffin stuffed into a brown paper bag laid neatly in front of Leon. "Thanks." Leon took both items into his hand and waved off to Claire, showing you a small smile as the bell chimed, indicating he had left the store. "Who was that?" You rushed over to Claire, her eyes looking at you with playful eyes. "That's Leon, he's my brother's friend or I guess co-worker sort of? He works for the RPD." Claire responded to you with a funny tone. "Why are you looking at me like that?" You laughed out, slowly wiping down the coffee stains on the counter. Your eyes wondering over to the door, missing the stranger you just encountered. "Oh it's nothing, I'm sure you and him will get along well y'know?" She giggled, shoving the tea towel in her pocket. "What the fuck is that suppos-" Your sentence quickly cut off as Claire shouted "I'm going on my break!"

Days passed, time and time again Leon soon became a person you got used to seeing. Smiling whenever you would see that navy blue uniform. A small crush blossomed in your heart - you couldn't tell him that though. Nor could you tell Claire, but she saw it in the way you stared at him as he ordered the same thing. Soon enough, you prepared it beforehand for him to have immediately. 8:30 AM, that's when Leon would come in. With that same uniform and same hairstyle, oh and of course he was handsome every time. Today was no different, except for the fact you weren't in. Leon's day was 100 times better when he saw you, entering the café he expects to see you. Seeing Claire at the front instead of cleaning caught him off guard. "Where's Y/N?" Leon closed the door behind him, leaving the cold and rubbing his hands together as the cozy environment felt different.

"She called in sick, why? Are you lovestruck?" She poked fun at him, getting his order ready. "Oh shut up.." He chuckled, sitting down at a nearby table. Thinking about Claire's words, he knew she was right. He was lovestruck by you. Leon couldn't help but find you so attractive, the way you were so attentive to him. That small talk wasn't awkward with you. He had a crush. "Honestly, yeah." His eyes diverted to the muffin and latte ahead of him. Claire's ears perked hearing his mini confession? "Oh?" She smacked his shoulder lightly. "She's beautiful and super sweet, don't get me started on how.." Leon soon rambled on about you, from your personality to your looks, the way you carried yourself. Losing himself in time as he subconsciously sipped on the latte, finishing the muffin. Claire had to sit down for this, it was cute seeing him chatter about you. "Fuck, sorry about that." He chuckled, checking his wrist-watch, seeing the time flicker to 9:00 AM. "Shit, I gotta go. Thank you for the treat Claire." Leon hastily got up and dashed out the door. Oh how Claire couldn't wait to tell you all about this tomorrow.

"You're shitting me right?" You mumbled, polishing the mugs as you looked over to the wall clock. 8:25 AM. Leon's order by your side as you heard Claire laugh. "Why would I lie about him basically confessing his love about you?" She nudged your arm, snickering as your eyes rolled back playfully. As if Leon could have a crush on you. I mean, you were just a barista who served him his raspberry white chocolate muffin and vanilla latte. What could've been so special about your actions? "Get out of your trance, it's 8:28." You heard Claire from one ear to another as she moved to dust the corners of the room. Oh how cruel could she be to leave you with this new information? The chime of the door caught you off-guard, seeing that same man in that RPD uniform.

"Good morning Leon." A shaky voice elicited from your throat. For Christs sake, pull yourself together. "Morning.. I see my order there." He chuckled, pulling out his wallet, taking out a $20 bill. "Keep the rest." A small grin crept on his face as he passed it to you. You couldn't accept this, not for basically doing something that took you three minutes at most. "Oh Leon, I can't accept this." A breathy laugh pursued out your lips. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Please, it's on me. You've been nothing but sweet to me. And this place must be a pain in the ass to clean up at the end of the day." Leon laughed as he took his muffin and latte, sitting down at a table. That was unusual. He usually left to enjoy his snack, but today seemed different. Your friendship seemed different. Leon was right, the sticky sugared tables and coffee splatters were annoying to clean - knowing he would refuse the money if given back to him, you stuffed the change in your pocket. "Thanks Leon.. but you really don't have to tip me each day. Makes me feel guilty, like I owe you." You muttered as you came out from behind the counter. Leon's eyes wondered over you, a small smile corrupting his lips as he thought of something.

"Well.. if you think you owe me, come sit down with me for a bit?" A teasing tone was laced with his words, but who were you to deny him. Even if the blush on your face was evident. "Alright, but why are you sat down? Don't you have to get to the station quick?" Your question rang in his head, your voice melodic in his ears. "Not really, if it comes to it I'll run." He chuckled, sipping on the latte. Burning just the tip of this tongue - warming up the rest of his body. Nothing warmed him up like you though, those pretty lips that rested peacefully on your face. Your giggles enticing him as he looked at your hands slowly fiddle, it was clear you were nervous. Fuck. So was he, but to him this was now or never.

"I uh... can I have your number?" Leon hastily said, averting his eyes from you and staring into the little leaf shape carved by the frothed milk in his hot drink. Did he mess up? Troubled thoughts rushed over Leon's head until he heard you speak. "My number, sure." You couldn't help but smile, Leon just asked for your number. This was practically a dream come true. A quick exchange of each others phone numbers soon lead to a conversation. Getting to know each other was time consuming which soon lead to Leon's face dropping as he checked his wristwatch. "Shit it's 9:15." He laughed, putting his leftovers in the bin. "I'll text you later yeah?" His hand waved off to you, feeling content in yourself.

Throwing your bag to the side of your room, your back aching from the constant horrible posture you had as you bent over tables to wipe them. Your phone buzzed. It was from Leon.

Leon: Can I take you out for dinner this weekend?

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

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[csilla-nocturne]

This is another older idea I love, that turned into more of a long summary.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have been happily married for a few decades at this point. One chilly afternoon as they are walking Xie Lian reaches for his husband's hand and notices it's already warm. Usually Hua Cheng has to use spiritual energy to warm himself, or Xie Lian's body heat will warm him. He asks Hua Cheng about it, and finds out Hua Cheng didn't even realize it was happening. Thinking back Xie Lian remembers several times over the past few months that this has happened. After discussing it they chalk it up to "frequent spiritual energy exchanging." and don't really think about it any more. It's a few weeks later Mu Qing and Feng Xin are visiting while Hualian are at Mount Taicang. The pair feel something is different about Hua Cheng, but they don't know what it is, and Xie Lian is suffering no ill effects so they don't comment.

Things continue on for a few more years, others noticing Hua Cheng almost seems more "alive" while Hua Cheng and Xie Lian mostly remain oblivious until someone points something out. They even develop that annoying couple thing where they seem to know what each other is thinking to the point of finishing each other's sentences at times. One thing they do notice immediately however is that if one is hurt the other is able to feel it. Putting things together they realize this is more than the side effects of make out sessions, ect.. Xie Lian goes to Ling Wen for help while he and Hua Cheng start doing their own research into what might be going on. Later that night they also find out the shared sensation thing also works for pleasure, and of course waste no time taking full advantage of that.

A few weeks later Hua Cheng is visiting He Xuan, purely to discuss his debt, totally not because they actually might kinda actually be friends. It's totally just business, and Hua Cheng is absolutely not giving He Xuan advice on how he can stealth help out Shi Qingxuan, and even if he just happens to do that it was Xie Lian's idea. Hua Cheng doesn't even think about the weirdness going on with him and Xie Lian until He Xuan irritated asks him why the hell he's wasting spiritual energy to fake a heartbeat he doesn't need. Hua Cheng is shocked by this, and admits he didn't even notice it was happening. He explains what's been going on with himself and Xie Lian.

He Xuan after listening says he may know what's happening, having stumbled on something while planing his revenge on Shi Wudu. He's not certain however, as what it sounds like is something he's only ever heard happening between two living people, never one who was living and one who was already dead. He explains a very difficult technique some cultivation partners try where they attempt to give one another parts of their own souls without damaging themselves, so that even if they die they are bound to the point that they will be able to find each other even if they reincarnate and have no memories of their past life. Basically they try to ensure they become soulmates. He Xuan tells him this is a very difficult and dangerous thing to attempt, and many have died, and ripped apart their own souls trying it.

He also says if this is indeed what has happened he's really not surprised that Hua Cheng, and Xie Lian have managed to do this on accident.

It also means that Hua Cheng's anchor to the world is no longer his ashes but Xie Lian himself, explaining why Hua cheng while still a ghost has been seeming less dead lately. The heartbeat he's feeling isn't one he made, but Xie Lian's coming through the bond they have.

Hua Cheng kinda short circuits from the info, and a very annoyed He Xuan contacts Xie Lian partly to explain his theory, but mostly to get Hua Cheng out of his house, because he's now ruining the gloomy vibe.

After taking a few days to digest this information, they decide to keep it quiet, except for the few they can't avoid telling like Feng Xin and Mu Qing who worried about Xie Lian demand to know what's going on. They don't want anyone getting any bright ideas about testing the theory, after all even if the ring is no longer Hua Cheng's anchor to the world it's still very precious to Xie Lian who doesn't want any thing to happen to it.

Is He Xuan right? Who knows. 😉

[hwanchaesong]

☞🍹Seventh Drink: Beyond the journey of espresso to dry martini, the only thing that he manages to remember is his baby. 🍸

🎧: The Weeknd - Blinding Lights

wc: 651

genre & warnings: angst, fluff, comfort, singer!jisung, bar setting, drinking, implied friends to lovers, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The After Hours Bar series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Don't you think you're overstaying your visit?"

Jisung tilted his head to look for the source of the voice, spotting you beside him, sitting in the bar while you motioned the barista to give you a drink as well.

"I work here." he chuckles, answering your question and relaxing in his seat more, "What brings you here?"

Interrogation is necessary for you, considering that you are not one to go to bars. You usually stay at your house, enjoying ramyeon and rewatching your favorite movie.

You hummed, sipping on the alcoholic drink that the barista concocted before cringing at the bitter taste, "I am here for you."

He points at himself, "Me? Why is that? And why are you being weird?"

You gave your friend a side eye, slightly offended by his words, "First, I am not weird. I am completely normal. Second, you are the one being weird because see, your gig just finished but here you are..."

Your sentence trailed off, not wanting to continue it but he understands.

He'd usually go back to his own flat after a performance at the bar, but this time, he stayed for a drink. Which for you, his neighbor slash friend, is unusual.

So you went on a journey, despite clubs not being your thing, to check up on him.

It was safe to say that you were worried about him. You are well aware that you might have overstepped his boundaries but you really couldn't care, his welfare comes first.

"Can't I loosen up a bit?" he smirks at you, then his mood suddenly turns gloomy, "It's blurry."

He admits and you listen intently as he attempts to open up to you.

"I don't understand what is happening, actually." his eyes are downcast, slowly swirling the glass of tequila on the wooden table, "You know how much I love performing, right?"

"Yes, why?"

He laughs without any humor, and your concern rises when he blurts out his next words.

"I feel like I can't do it anymore. Like.. I am slowly losing my passion for it and I don't know what to do."

Your eyes widened, not expecting his confession because this man loves singing. Maybe he's confused? Or what he said a few minutes ago, he's tired and he needs to rest?

Surely, he must be mistaken because this, this city that he chose is his lifeline.

The way he talked about it made you realize that achieving your dreams in life is possible if you worked hard for it, just like he did.

He basically fought his parents for this, going against their wishes for him to become a doctor— and if you're going to be honest, his zeal for singing made you love him the way he is.

"Jisung I-" you stopped yourself, is it really worth it?

You urged yourself to do it, if no one else will push him, then you will take it upon yourself to do it.

You left your seat in lieu of extending your hand in front of him to take, and you gulped your nervousness.

"Listen, Jisung. I am not well versed when it comes to things like this but," you bit your lower lip, bashfully meeting his curious gaze, "let's go back to my apartment and think of ways on how to motivate you."

He raised an eyebrow, not moving an inch until you groaned in exasperation, grasping his hand in yours.

"Come on! If you lose interest in this then.. I'd miss those moments where you sing to me the new songs that you're composing."

It is now Jisung's turn to be surprised.

Amidst the neon lighting of the bar, illuminating the place and promptly blinding the eyes of people who dare to look straight into it, Jisung thinks that he's already seen the brightest glow of all.

But strangely enough, he can clearly see how gorgeous she is.

taglist:

@sunghoonsgfreal @yeosayang @mystverse @shakalakaboomboo

[the-moon-files]

Linked Universe / GN!Reader - Random Headcanons abt the Chain! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (ur here!) / Part 3

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Hyrule, Time, Fierce Deity, Twilight, Warriors

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: light cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

☆

Hyrule (The Legend of Zelda - OG game, Zelda II: Adventures of Link):

Lost easily, obviously, you know this

What you didnt know was that its very easy to get lost with him

Bc he's so excited/curious for new sights he doesnt give any fucks abt where he is, so it devolves into that "wait, I thought YOU were leading us there?? Then where tf are we??!!" very quickly

Does feel bad he stressed u out smtimes but he somehow manages to get into such wild shit that Hyrule's kinda preoccupied being confused/amazed/finding his way out, or any combo of these situations (once again, usually with you unfortunately)

Is the luckiest when it comes to getting lost or anything to do with "natural" things

Like he heard u rlly like this one fruit? Accidentally gets lost all day and panics all the Links + You until he shows up at midnight with a shirtful of them

("I found a few fruit trees/plants in the woods while wandering! I tried to grab a few for you and before I knew it, it was dark, sorry...")

Likes learning little skills from other people, like learning how to do makeup from Legend, or how to spot collections of rupees the Minish have left somewhere from Four, or how walk on any terrain from Wind (good at walking on a ship, on land, climbing etc)

More of a "sunset" hiker than a "sunrise" one

Likes to do your hair! Whether that be braiding, putting accessories (he handmade shhh) thruout it, or helping with hair maintenance, likes how strangely intimate but domestic it feels together with you (u return the favor ofc)

(All the other heroes are looking at you both like kicked puppies jfcccc🙄)

Time (Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask):

Gets anxious if he's late to things, likes being fashionably early (or ungodly, when u let him get away with it)

Has absolutely been that meme from Parks and Recreation where he's like "Alright. I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Who broke it?"

(Abt the coffee pot for the camp)

Knowing full and well-

"I broke it. It burnt my coffee for the 3rd morning in a row, so I punched it. I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with war paint on their faces and a moblin head on a stick. ...good. It was getting a little chummy around here."

MF LOVES GOSSIP (wouldn't admit this even at swordpoint)

Wars has absolutely been the person in the meme of:

Wars: "...why would you tell me this??"

Time: "Bc no one will ever believe you."

Wars: ...😦

Has a resting bitch face and knows it, actively cultivates it, scary dog privileges for you,

Type to take ur side in whatever situation ur in, even when Time has no idea whats going on, always, without question <3

The same height as First, (Twi's a close 2nd), and feels most secure when the 3 of you are at the front of the group, but First/Time are slightly in front of you

Like ur literally the person walking their 2 huge scary doobermans/mastiffs one leash in each hand basically 💀

(Once again, Link is deeply comforted by ur voice just over his shoulder/just hearing u even without seeing you)

Very subtly sarcastic, u dont even know he made a dig at you until 3-5 business days later

Likes ur sarcasm more than anyone else's in the group, or even his own lol

Fierce Deity (Majora's Mask):

Likes music, any music (amused at drunk karaoke)

Casually cradles ur arms or back whenever ur falling asleep/tripping/being clumsy near him

Very warm and smoothed calloused hands

Thinks abt what he's about to say so hard/long, that the conversation's moved on by like, 3 rounds/subject changes by the time he's actually ready to talk

Scolds ppl (in like a sentence) who neglect their needs, like sleeping/eating/hygiene

Finds peace in nature, if hes ever upset, u can bet he's already taking a walk by a stream

Likes teaching u/other Links little skills he has, its nice to feel appreciated/needed for something other than fighting or big moments

He falls in love with small moments, like the first time u made them all a dessert recipe from ur world, or repaired First's scarf (for the millioneth time) and bc everyone had gotten their clothes scratched up, everyone needed repairs so most Links were sewing smth lol

Enjoys watching ppl experience smth for the first time, or even himself exp smth for first time

Fierce smiled fully for the first time when you got into the mountain hot springs in Wild's Hyrule for the first time and were super excited

Also the type to hold ur hand while stepping in to make sure u dont fall, or just subtly boost a Link that was abt to fall from climbing smth

Like for being the tallest, he's surprisingly sneaky, the energy of the biggest cat in the house yet somehow also the quietest

Does that thing where someone takes ur hand and like massages ur fingers, palm, wrist and shakes them out kinda for you <3

Twilight (Twilight Princess):

Trips UP the stairs.

Cold start LMAO

ok ill be nice to him,, sike

Easy to bully?? U mean that kindly, he's just such a golden retriever sometimes u cant help urself (tho u make sure to reign it in and not take advantage of it so as not to genuninely hurt him)

Lol likes to "herd" his favorite people, like those dogs livestock farmers have u kno that they say end up herding their owners/their family lol

Like making subtle circles around the Chain, wrapping an arm around Hyrule and teasing him to quietly bring him back into the group before he gets lost,

Tugs on Time's armor to slow him down, mf may be in armor head to toe but he'll outpace all of u 💀

Likes to put his hand on ur lower back to guide u back into the group from whatever scenic thing u got distracted by

(so sue you, ur literally in The Legend of Zelda's Hyrule, surrounded by pretty blondes, why tf wouldnt you be distracted all the time??)

The only time he doesnt herd actively is in Ordon, just subconciously lol <3

Terrible sleep schedule, but sleeps like the dead when he does, has collapsed with a limb on top of you and u couldnt escape

Hard time waking up in the morning despite being country boy, who usually have to do chores first thing in morning on a farm

hates/envious of Wild (up at 5am even on days off?? Foul.)

Runs warm, but complains abt a slight breeze?

Would sleep with no covers if it werent for morning dew

Wishes cats liked him more (its the wolf smell)

Twi has the constant energy of a tall person carefully maneuvering around cluttered/low doorways while someone a head shorter runs by him and bounces off of him

U get onto/scold the Links and he's immediately the first to just sit on the ground, or put down whatever he's holding no matter what he's doing LMAO 😭😭

Keeps his eyes on u too the whole time lol

Warriors (Hyrule Warriors):

Cries over romance novels/dramas

A virgo in all stereotypes of the word tbh

Invented the red-string conspiracy theory board before the red-string conspiracy board existed in Hyrule

Also likes to take care of your hair! (What?? He and 'Rulie don't fight over ur hair, that'd be childish, he's not a foolish boy- Hyrule, hand over the brush.👹)

Remembers the little things abt u type of person, like ur favorite drink, ur favorite stories like tv shows/books even if theyre from ur world, ur favorite clothing pieces like shorts vs. pants, etc.

The only Link who can single handedly claim he could take your closet and dress you in something you'd actually wear.

Honestly once he got the hang of it, would get better at dressing you, than you

(Another domestic thing he adores, picking outfits for u/finding that perfect piece of clothing you've been needing lately)

Born to night-owl, forced to morning-bird 😔

Wars wakes up stiff sometimes bc soldier training is sleeping on ur back, hands to ur sides, laying straight in ur bed, so as to fit into bunks/bedrolls close together

It got better as he was promoted to Captain, so he could have his own quarters but its still a hard habit to shake

One of the few Links who works up the courage to genuinely pitfully ask if you'd mind massaging his shoulders again? He slept badly last night, please?? 🥺👉👈

(Ur so weak for pathetic hurting pretty blonde twinks lol)

The most lowkey abt taking care of Chain, but u make sure to take care of him as a gift back, and you've definitely caught him tearing up abt it 💖

☆

Debated writing smth else first but figured this was easy and short and i started it first so youll have to wait like one more post before more Masc Reader stuff guys 😔

Dw its coming, i havent abandoned u my homies out there 🫂

Let me know what u think in the comments of my slight characterizations here!

Im struggling to conceptualize their personalities so thats acc part of why i started to write smaller stuff like this first! :)

Peace out,

🌙

[heavyhitterheaux]

One sentence

"Do you have to be so loud?"

You were currently laying on Jack’s chest in the dark backstage as you had a migraine that had been bothering you since this morning. Jack wasn’t due to be on stage for another 45 minutes and he was currently rubbing small circles along your back and placing small kisses on your forehead in the hopes of trying to get it to go away.

You can recall on one hand how many migraines that you had in your life and you knew when you got them that you were going to be down for the count for at least three days because that’s how long they usually lasted.

“Baby, sit up for a second for me. I need you to drink some water or something.” Jack softly said in your ear and you immediately shook your head no.

“Don’t you remember me throwing up two hours ago? I don’t want anything. I can’t even think about food or drinking anything right now.”

“Not even ginger ale and saltines? That will help your stomach feel better. I can make 2fo go get it for you.”

“No, not if you want me to throw up all over you….. Again.”

“It’s okay, baby girl. You don’t feel good and it wasn’t even that much.” Jack softly said while shrugging. His main concern was trying to get you to eat something, but if not drink something. 

“It was that much, no need to lie. You literally had to change your entire outfit and I got it on your new 550’s. I will definitely get you another pair. I know you love me when you literally clean up my puke.” You whispered back to him before laughing.

“In sickness and in health. I’ll always take care of you. You already know this. But you don’t have to worry about getting me more 550’s. I get them for free, remember? My main priority is making sure my wife is okay.”

“I love you so much you have no idea.” You responded and held onto Jack tighter.

“And I love you. Always and forever.”

Just then you heard a loud commotion because Urban had opened the door and turned on the light while he was loudly talking to Quiiso who was walking past. 

“Urb!” Jack whispered to him and he just looked at him confused.

“What?”

He gestured down towards you and you had now turned into Jack’s chest more to block out the bright light.

“Urby, I love you, but do you have to be so loud?” You quietly said before groaning.

“Oh shit. My bad Lil Bit. I forgot you didn’t feel good. Need me to get you anything?”

“No, I just want cuddles from my husband.” All Jack did was smile and lean down to kiss your forehead. 

“Well, I think you’re covered in that department. But ginger ale, maybe?”

You immediately shook your head no, but Urban wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“When Jack goes on for his set, my mission is to get you to drink something.”

All you did was groan as Urban turned the light back out and was not looking forward to that.

Jack had only been on stage for a total of ten minutes while Urban was trying to make you drink ginger ale.

You admit that your migraine was slightly better and wanted to give it a try.

“Take your time and don’t guzzle it.”

“If it’s not Jack’s cum, I don’t guzzle anything.”

“Ma’am I did NOT need to know that. Here, just drink.”

You took slow sips and you were feeling okay for a few minutes.

“I think I’m okay now, well at least better than before.”

“You just needed best friend cuddles. I mean husband cuddles are okay, but I still remember any time you would get sad about something you would ask for a hug because I gave the best ones.”

“Don’t tell Jack, but you still do.”

“Secret’s safe with me.”

“Well you both do if I’m being honest. I love that you both trap me in bear hugs. It’s comforting.”

“Anything I can do to make my best friend feel better, I’m going to do it. You feel okay enough to watch Jack?”

“I think so.”

“Let me help you up.”

As soon as Urban sat you up, what was to come next was inevitable.

Urban’s eyes went wide as he looked at you and knew there was no turning back.

“Oh shit.”

You managed to miss Urban and turn to your right side. It was basically just ginger ale since you couldn’t keep anything else down.

“This is your fault.” You finally said as you were now trying to clean everything up.

“How?!”

“You turned on the light and were too fucking loud when you came in here. Still love you though and thank you for trying with the ginger ale.”

“Next time I’ll leave your ass to deal with this yourself. But, love you too.”

“Enough to get me another ginger ale?”

“Ehh maybe we’ll try a little later.”

[avocado-writing]

Now I’m not saying ‘sexytime roleplay where aristo princeling Aziraphale has to somehow persuade reader/Crowley/both to help smuggle him across the border’ but…

Basically, Aziraphale in his 1793 outfit, being sensually undressed, and seducing his partner(s) while getting humiliated a little? If you feel like it ofc, your writing gives me life !

notes: once again absolute smut. this outfit drives me insane. costume designers you know what you did. thank you to my friend M who pretty much wrote the lil Crowley monologue at the start of this fic, couldn't have done this without you!

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley

rating: E, minors dni

words: 2.2k

tags: roleplay (humiliation; degradation; dirty talk; dubcon); aftercare; TLTDATSIB-verse

Overall, when you think about this situation, there are two things that you’re quite certain of.

The first one is this: Aziraphale likes to be rescued. It’s why he’s always getting himself in silly little situations. Usually it’s Crowley that has to do the actual rescuing, given that he’s a demon with otherworldly powers and all, but you’ve been known to distract a guard or lift a key. Bust down a wall with a battering ram. Helpful little things like that. 

In the aftermath Aziraphale is always very pleased and finds ways to make it up to you both later, so there’s never any complaining. 

The second thing you know is that after all these years you can still discover things about yourselves and about each other. It’s always lovely to start a sentence with, ‘oh, I didn’t know that…!” You find new little ways to fall in love with them over and over again.

You’ve just made the tea, and put Aziraphale’s down on the desk next to him. He thanks you the usual way but doesn’t look up from the book in his hands, so when he reaches over to pick it up he instead knocks the mug over and spills the hot liquid all over his lap.

“Aziraphale!”

His head snaps up. He’s barely aware of the situation at all. You imagine his corporeal form isn’t hurt by little things like these, but your natural reaction is to worry; get a little bit panicked.

“What are you doing? You need to watch out! You could really hurt yourself if you’re not paying attention, don’t be so silly!”

Aziraphale is looking at you, but he seems to have gone a bit glossy-eyed as you dress him down. Mouth agape a little. You know this look.

This is how he looks when he’s turned on.

“Aziraphale?”

“Hmm? Sorry, yes darling, I’ll be more careful,” he mutters, miracling the spill away. Across the shop floor you lock eyes with Crowley. Yes. He noticed that too. 

The two of you silently agree to address this with him later. So, that night, with a couple of bottles of merlot between you, Crowley turns to your husband and says, as easily as if he’s discussing the weather:

“So, angel, it seems you really enjoyed being told off earlier.”

Aziraphale chokes on his wine. Ah. Got him. 

“It’s alright if it’s true,” you tell him, running a hand up his leg. “You just need to say.”

“I… I…”

“It occurs to me,” Crowley begins, sitting back in his seat as if he’s about to say something very astute, “that when you get captured, it can’t all be for our benefit. Maybe you enjoy it before we even get there to carry out a daring escape. You like being somewhere you’re not supposed to be and being punished for it, don’t you? Do you like being treated a little rough?”

And there’s that look again: eyes glassed over, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“Go on Aziraphale, you can tell us. We can be very accommodating.”

“Yes,” he manages, pupils blown wide as you walk your fingers up his chest. 

You and Crowley exchange a grin. 

The three of you don’t roleplay a lot. You’re happy enough with each other as it is, there’s not usually a need to bring the fantasy element into it - but variety is the spice of life and after floating a few scenarios this is the one you eventually agreed to. It really happened, actually. You can still remember the guard you knocked over the head to clear the way for your lovers’ escape. Ahh, fond memories.

You have some clothes still kicking around from then too, so a little bit of searching your wardrobe really meant you could get into character. Aziraphale and Crowley get to cheat by just manifesting whatever they fancy wearing. You feel they get off a bit easily.

Well, they will by the time we’re done, a devilish voice in your head pipes up. 

Crowley has really gone the whole nine yards for this, though. Clearly he wants all parties involved to enjoy it to maximum effect, and so when the two of you step into the bedroom it’s no longer a bedroom, in fact it looks exactly like a dungeon where your poor angel has been imprisoned before. His curls sit neatly styled on his head as he wears his pretty little aristocrat outfit, the one that did things to you back in the day and still does things to you now. His wrists are shackled and he looks up at you both with the most pathetic little gaze.

You swallow. You’re going to enjoy this.

“Well, well, well,” Crowley says, wasting no time before getting into character, “look what we’ve got here. Some lost little rich boy who got caught by the wrong people, eh?”

Aziraphale shifts in his seat. Already he’s affected; eyes soft and mouth slack. He tugs uselessly at his restraints and looks very pitiful indeed.

“Please let me go,” he whispers, encapturing the role of a feeble little captive perfectly. You and Crowley exchange a look, lit by a hot undercurrent of lust.

“Why would we do that?”

“I can reward you. Very handsomely. My family –”

“We don’t care about your family,” you laugh, cruelly, and he flinches. You close the gap and take his face in your hand roughly, forcing him to look up at you. “We only care about seeing your pretty little head in a basket. Look at you. Pathetic, aren’t you?”

The ardour in Aziraphale’s eyes is evident: his pupils have blown wide, engulfing the beautiful colour of his irises. You can see his trousers tighten and he has to adjust himself.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” he agrees. You grin down at him.

“And what would you do, hmm? To get us to help you? Smuggle you back on a ship on its way to merry old England, where you’ll be safe?”

“Pay.” His voice is breathy now, strained as he looks up into your eyes. You press your calf more firmly between his legs and, almost without realising, he begins to rut up against you. He’s already fully hard. 

You didn’t realise how much he wanted this. If you had, you and Crowley might have indulged him earlier.

“Pay with what?” Crowley echoes. He sounds stern but you know him well enough to hear the reediness in his words. He’s probably half-mast too.

Aziraphale doesn’t answer, just rubs into your leg a bit more.

“With your body, you pretty pathetic thing?”

He moans, actually moans, and nods.

“Look at you. Fucking up against me like a dog. Is that what you are, hmm? Some piteous little mutt?”

He makes a noise of affirmation. You can see a wet spot appearing at the front of his trousers where his precome floods him.

“Say it.”

“I’m a dog,” he whines. You shoot Crowley a grin. The demon, for what it’s worth, seems to have become a captive audience to the scene of Aziraphale trying to get off using just the pressure he can create. A stamp of your foot stops both Aziraphale in his attempts and brings Crowley back to the moment.

“If you want to be free so badly, show me what you’re willing to do. Suck his cock.”

Aziraphale looks over to Crowley and, without missing a beat, lets his mouth fall open. It’s like a magnet to your husband who closes the gap immediately and, with some fiddling with the buttons on his fly, frees his rock-hard member and presses the blunt head of it against the angel’s tongue, who takes no time in swallowing it down.

You don’t move from your place between Aziraphale’s spread thighs. In fact, you shove your leg between them even harder and he understands what you want, continuing to try and get himself off. His head is twisted at an almost painful angle to be able to fellate Crowley at the same time as desperately humping you, and you can see the tears prick in his eyes.

You consider asking for a moment if he’s alright, but know if he needed to tap out, he’d let you both know. This is about humiliating him after all. And you really want to play your part properly.

Hungrily you watch the sight of Aziraphale swallowing down Crowley’s cock. God, he is magnificent at taking a dick. You can see spit drip over his lips as he tongues at the slit, his eyes rolling back in pleasure at being used. Crowley’s hand come to tangle in his soft curls as he fucks into the angel’s mouth and hits the back of his throat over and over. You’re taken in by it too, and in the heat of the moment find yourself ensnaring Crowley in a delicious kiss. Your husband kisses you back leisurely and lovingly. You know he’s enjoying both of his spouses to the fullest. Aziraphale gags and finally the tears spill, hot streaks staining his pretty roseate cheeks. 

“Pathetic,” you say, lovingly, adoringly. Aziraphale’s thrusts up against your leg are beginning to get a bit sloppy now, you know he’s close to coming; you extract yourself and turn sharply to Crowley.

“Stop. We can get more use out of him. I want to see you fuck him in front of me.”

You make quick work of your clothes. Usually you’d relish undressing for them, put on a show, but tonight is all about satisfaction. Lying on the floor you open your legs, gesturing Aziraphale to between them.

“Come on, you wretched thing. Show me what else you can do.”

Aziraphale moans and falls to his knees before crawling over to you. His mouth leaves Crowley with a very sultry little pop, spit still covering his face, lips fucked open and red. As he gets into position between your thighs Crowley kneels behind him, making short work of his dress breeches and brings them down to his ankles, around his heels. You position yourself propped up on your elbows so you can look over Aziraphale’s back as Crowley presses into him, not giving him the kindness of a warmup but knowing that Aziraphale will be able to take it anyway. His heavenly body can stretch and adjust with more ease than a human’s.

Your blond-haired husband looks up at you with deference and just a tinge of fear which goes right to the pit of your belly. He kisses your thighs sloppily, working his way inwards before he presses his mouth to you properly; attentive and thorough to your sex. 

Crowley begins to fuck him, hard and rough without any care for his well-being - exactly how Aziraphale wants it. You hear him moan around you as he uses his tongue to satiate you, every time Crowley thrusts he’s pushed harder against your body. Crowley is essentially fucking you through him. It’s an entirely filthy thought that has you panting as you feel yourself begin to crest. You didn’t realise how taken you were with this scenario until Aziraphale began his ministrations, and now you’re just as caught up in it as your husbands are.

“That’s it… fuck, look at you, splayed out between us like the whore you are… are you going to come on his cock, you pathetic little thing? Debase yourself like that? Are you going to swallow me down too?”

Aziraphale pushes his face even harder into you, his nose brushing against your tight curls there; Crowley’s thrusts begin to get erratic; all three of you are close. You grip the angel’s hair so hard he shrieks in pleasure, and it’s enough to get him to spend all over the floor. Crowley comes inside him with a bitten-off snarl, his hands digging into the softness of Aziraphale’s hips so hard they’d leave bruises were he a human; and you release in the angel’s mouth after a particularly dexterous lick. The combined sound of your orgasms shatters whatever hold Crowley had on the manifestation of the situation, and suddenly you’re all back in the bedroom, sweating and gasping and replete.

“Aziraphale,” you manage as you catch your breath, “are you alright, my darling?”

Aziraphale has collapsed into a giddy pile onto the carpet. He nods and hums, blissed-out, and you bring his head to lay in your lap as you stroke his curls.

“You did so well. Fuck, you’re wonderful.”

Aziraphale turns to look at you and reaches up to caress your face with a shaking hand. You press a kiss into his palm and look over to Crowley who’s gathering himself as well, serpentine eyes full of adoration at the image of the two of you embracing.

“I’m going to go and get some water. Keep him there, will you? I don’t want him discorporating from lack of aftercare.” Normally you’d engage in some light banter, but you’re so tired you let this sentence sit as fact.

“Yes my love,” you tell Crowley, accepting the kiss he offers you, and watching him saunter away. Lord. You could watch that demon for hours.

Heaven might be above, but right now, it’s entirely located in your bedroom in a townhouse in West London.

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul  @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @night-affiliate @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe

[canmom]

more on art production ~under capitalism~

reading Who Owns This Sentence?, a very engaging and fiercely critical history of the concept of copyright, and it's pretty fire. there's all sorts of fascinating intricacies in the way the notion of IP formed around the world (albeit so far the narrative has mainly focused on Europe, and to a limited extent China), and the different ideologies that justified the types of monopolies that it granted. the last chapter i read skewers the idea that the ability to exploit copyright and patents is what motivates the writing of books and research/invention, and I'll try and pull out the shape of the argument tomorrow. so far I'm only up to the 18th century; I'm looking forward to the rest of their story of how copyright grew from the limited forms of that period into the monster it is today.

it's on libgen if you wanna read it! i feel like the authors would be hypocrites to object :p

it is making me think about the differences between the making of books and other media, from (since this has been rattling around my head lately) an economic angle...

writing books, at least in the case of fiction is usually done on a prospective, spec-work kind of basis (you write your novel with no guarantee it will get published unless you're already an established author under contract). admittedly, a lot of us probably read books by authors who managed to 'make it' as professional authors and write full time - but this is not a lucrative thing to do and to make it work you need truly exceptional luck to get a major hit, or to be extremely prolific in things people want to read.

the films and games of the types most of us play are, by contrast, generally made by teams of salaried people - and thus do rarely get made without the belief it will be profitable. if you went on about your 'monetisation model' when writing a book, people would look at you funny and rightly so, but it's one of the first questions that gets asked when pitching a game.

open source software is a notable comparison here. a lot of it is done for its own sake without any expectation of profit, taking untold hours, but large free software projects tend to sprout foundations, which take donations (typically from companies that use the software) to pay for full time developers. mozilla, notably, gets a huge part of its funding from google paying for their search engine to be the default in Firefox; this in turn drives development of not just Firefox itself but also the Rust programming language (as discussed in this very enlightening talk by Evan Czaplicki). Blender is rightly celebrated as one of the best open source projects for its incredibly fast development, but they do have an office in amsterdam and a number of full time devs.

what money buys in regards to creative works is not motivation, but time - time to work on a project, iterate and polish and all that. in societies where you have to buy food etc. to survive, your options for existence are basically:

work at a job

own capital

rely on someone else (e.g. a parent or partner)

rely on state benefits if you can get them

beg

steal

if you're working at a job, this takes up a lot of your time and energy. you can definitely make art anyway, loads of people do, but you're much more limited in how you can work at it compared to someone who doesn't have to work another job.

so again, what money buys in art is the means of subsistence for someone, freeing them to work fully on realising a project.

where does the money come from that lets people work full time on art? a few places.

one is selling copies of the work itself. what's remarkable is that, when nearly everything can be pirated without a great deal of effort, it is still possible to do this to some degree - though in many ways the ease of digital copying (or at least the fear if it) has forced new models for purely digital creations, which either trade on convenience (streaming services) or in the case of games, find some way to enforce scarcity like requiring connection to a central server and including 'in-app purchases', where you pay to have the software display that you are the nebulous owner of an imaginary thing, and display this to other players. anyway, whichever exact model, the idea is that you turn the IP into capital which you then use to manufacture a product like 'legal copies', 'subscriptions' or 'accounts with a rare skin unlocked'.

the second is using the work to promote some other, more profitable thing - merchandising, an original work, etc. this is the main way that something like anime makes money (for the production committee, if not the studio) - the anime is, economics-wise, effectively an ad for its own source manga, figurines, shirts etc. the reason why there is so much pro media chasing the tastes of otaku is partly because otaku spend a lot on merch. (though it's also because the doujin scene kind of feeds into 'pro' production)

the third is some kind of patronage relationship, notably government grants, but also academic funding bodies, or selling commissions, or subscriptions on a streaming platform/patreon etc.

grants are how most European animated films are funded, and they often open with the logos of a huge list of arts organisations in different countries. the more places you can get involved, the more funds you can pull on. now, instead of working out how to sell your creation to customers who might buy a copy, under this model you need to convince funding bodies that it fits their remit. requesting grants involves its own specialised language.

in general the issue with the audience patronage model is that it only really pays enough to live on if you're working on a pretty huge scale. a minority make a fortune; the vast majority get a pittance at most, and if they do 'make it', it takes years of persistence.

the fourth is, for physical media, to sell an original. this only works if you can accumulate enough prestige, and the idea is to operate on extreme scarcity. the brief fad of NFTs attempted to abstract the idea of 'owning' an original from the legal right to control the physical object to something completely nebulous. in practice this largely ended up just being a speculative bubble - but then again, a lot of the reason fine art is bought and sold for such eye watering sums is pretty much the same, it's an arbitrary holder of an investment.

the fifth is artworks which are kind of intrinsically scarce, like live performances. you can only fit so many people in the house. and in many cases people will pay to see something that can be copied in unique circumstances, like seeing a film at a cinema or festival - though this is a special case of selling copies.

the sixth is to sell advertising: turn your audience into the product, and your artwork into the bait on the hook.

the alternative to all of these options is unpaid volunteer work, like a collab project. the participants are limited to the time and energy they have left after taking care of survival. this can still lead to great things, but it tends to be more unstable by its nature. so many of these projects will lose steam or participants will flake and they'll not get finished - and that's fine! still, huge huge amounts of things already get created on this kind of hobby/indie/doujin basis, generally (tho not always) with no expectation of making enough money to sustain someone.

in every single one of these cases, the economic forces shape the types of artwork that will get made. different media are more or less demanding of labour, and that in turn shapes what types of projects are viable.

books can be written solo, and usually are - collaborations are not the norm there. the same goes for illustrations. on the other hand, if you want to make a hefty CRPG or an action game or a feature length movie, and you're trying to fit that project around your day job... i won't say it's impossible, I can think of some exceptional examples, but it won't be easy, and for many people it just won't be possible.

so, that's a survey of possibilities under the current regime. how vital is copyright really to this whole affair?

one thing that is strange to me is that there aren't a lot of open source games. there are some - i have memories of seeing Tux Racer, but a more recent example would be Barotrauma (which is open source but not free, and does not take contributions from outside the company). could it work? could you pay the salaries of, say, 10 devs on a 'pay what you can' model?

it feels like the only solution to all of this in the long run is some kind of UBI type of thing - that or a very generous art grants regime. if people were free to work on what they wanted and didn't need to be paid, you wouldn't have any reason for copyright. the creations could be publicly archived. but then the question i have is, what types of artwork would thrive in that kind of ecosystem?

I've barely talked about the book that inspired this, but i think it was worth the trouble to get the contours of this kind of analysis down outside my head...

[spotaus]

Shout-out to me rotating my goofy ahh New Age ideas in my head to no avail.

Ofc having said that, I'm still going to make a random little ramble post while I'm on the subject.

Right about now seems a banger time to flesh out Horror a bit and add more actual context to why he's even here, because it was like... beginning of everything the first time I mentioned him-

So, Horror. The basics are that he was initially brought back to the castle so he could teach Nightmare more about agricultural techniques from outside the kingdom. Horror's family in particular has very old traditions, and he had cousins and family friends move into the kingdom when they heard the crown had been passed on (times of turmoil leave for open land, usually). While Horror was staying at the castle, there was some sort of moment that led Nightmare to ask Horror to stick around and pick up training as a Knight.

Now, to dissect it a bit. When Dust is freed from his sentences in the dungeon, he's tasked by Nightmare to help him dismantle all the crime rings he knew of. Dust agrees (what's left to lose?) but quickly realizes that Night has no idea why they sprung up and what good they do for his people. So, Dust boldly informs him. Which leads Nightmare to put together the dots that... yeah, no, crops were meant to have weather, got by barely with altered methods for centuries, and now all the crops of the season were ruined. So, he obviously needs to start working on the whole Food Dillman before he can take down the black market for good, lest his people starve.

So, he decides he'll send out a few of his guard on a search. Find any farmers who know how to grow crops traditionally, foreigners, the poor, people who are deeply familiar, and report back to him. And, he gets several, but the most promising lead is a report of a monster colony at the edge of the kingdom. Their matriarch was selling perfectly good, ripe, crops at market for cheap. So, of course, Nightmare sends a messenger ahead of him before packing up Himself, Killer, and Dust (he does NOT trust Dust to be alone at the castle with Ccino and his other, mostly-loyal, followers. So he decides to babysit him.) and trekking out to the kingdom's edge discreetly to talk with these people.

When they arrive, it really is more like a colony. The monsters living in older buildings repaired with unfamiliar methods, farm tools discarded in favor of more natural-seeming ones, etc. But, it was obvious these people were managing alright. Not huge swaths of land, but enough to survive and sell a bit extra. As far as Night can tell, at least.

What it is, is that Horror's specific branch of his family had been struggling to make ends meet since he was young. They couldn't grow crops in their traditional way, the weather was harsh and the market expensive. It wasn't until the power shift when his extended family arrived and helped to revive bits of their field. Horror and his immediate family are very much still afraid it will get to drought territory again, and they'll need to start from step one.

Nightmare, after arriving, is greeted hesitantly. He's a bit paranoid, but overall he seems more focused on keeping an eye on Dust than acting hostile to any of the people. Killer and Dust unnerve them a lot, and Horror's mother and father are hesitant to speak up in any way to the new king. Being close to the border, they had the pleasures of hearing only the worst of the rumors.

I like to think that Nightmare tries to speak and ask for advice, but most everyone is too afraid of screwing up and getting themselves thrown out or killed. Horror is the one who comes back from chopping firewood, axe in-hand (and still pretty scrawny at this point, even though he towers). He stands in the doorway (fearlessly btw???) and hears Night out as well, before asking why he wants to know their crop techniques. Nightmare explains that he wants to be able to teach the farming communities to thrive in these new conditions. Horror shoots back that there's no point in teaching them new ways if the droughts would just turn back. Then Night explains the magic which had held back the storms for so many centuries. That he intended to never cast those rituals again, but that his good intentions left the kingdom floundering for support.

Horror, at that point, looks back to his mom and asks her a question in another language, before she seems more serious than nervous. They talk back and forth for a few minutes, before Horror nods and says that they'll talk to the others, but at the least hid mother wants to help. (Turns out, Nightmare completely missed a language barrier, so there was a huge misunderstanding for a good chunk if tine until Horror (fluent in both languages thanks to scrounging in the nearby town and learning quickly) shows from his chores.

After that point Horror's family welcomes them and makes dinner, and it's a huge communal situation that Nightmare (and Killer + Dust) are really flustered by tbh. Kids in the community hear their auntie call Nightmare and the other two friends, and they start convincing eachother to run up and tap his tendrils as they flick around nervously. The others who know some of Night's language talk to them quickly about what it's like in their homelands. It's a shockingly quick turn-around, but Nightmare's brought no hostility this whole trip, so they don't let the rumors persist. (Horror suggests to some of them to back off a bit a few tines when Nightmare seems antsy, but Killer is happy to entertain with stories of his missions (which unironically boost morale as Horror translates) and Dust is still in his sleepy era and no one minds when he slumps forwards and puts his head in his arms to nap. It's just a very kind little community.

That night, Horror, his mother, and a few of the other older women take Nightmare aside to tell him about the basics of their techniques. But... to really understand, he should see the whole process. Nightmare expresses that he simply doesn't have the time to stay (Ccino was alone... basically running everything in his wake.). And they cone to a standstill for a while, trying to think of a solution, but Night already knows. He needs someone to come back with him, give him lessons on how it all works. Every detail. Then he can summon prospective farmers to the capital to teach them new methods, reward them for cooperation, get the word spread and show that it works. Without bringing attention to the little paradise these people had built themselves.

It's after some more talking in their language, that Horror offers to go. He's heard the traditions his whole life. He could help. Plus, he could speak their language

After checking all bases (would his family be okay without him? What would they like in return? How often would he want to come back? He knows it's a long-term role, right? Horror agrees to all of the terms) they set out.

Horror can tell Nightmare has a good intention. If he didn't, Horror would've see him. Nightnare would've seemed disgusted ag his little cousins, or refused their meal (though he *did* silently have Killer take a chomp at it in test first), or, most damnibgly, Horror would've returned to Dust and flames. He'd heard of the old king. This one, though frustrated with his family, had mostly just looked distressed and tired at not recieving answers. He didn't order his men to attack, and his men seemed content (although the little guy *did* have a couple shackles (?) on from what Horror could tell). He wanted to help, and his little brother was big enough to pick up the slack he'd be leaving behind anyhow. (His family made him stop doing as much labor after his skull injury, since it still pained him on occasion, so there wasn't much he did nowadays anyways aside going to market for shopping + the occasional axe-work.)

This leads to him comfortably returning with Nightmare to the capital to start teaching him agriculture that can sustain the weather! (Also establishing that they need seeds from outside the kingdom for heartier crops because these ones are all dry and sad-). Horror is the reason there's a thriving little garden in the courtyard, and also the reason the servants treat it like a community garden later on! But at the start it's just Night and Horror figuring things out, while he has Killer and Dust back out dismantling the market.

When he feels more confident in his knowledge (and has seen Horror work wonders) Nightmare finally reaches out to those other candidates his guard had brought up. Those with partially surviving crops, who seemed willing to work to improve and revise after the storms. (Among them is Crop, yes this is where he and Horror first meet.) And he basically hosts a little banquet where he explains his hopes, offers compensation in-case the work were to go wrong and disrupt the land, and asks who'd like to participate. Everyone present says they would (I mean, their livihood went down the drain, they want it back!) And Nightmare has Horror explain what he knows, Nightmare is mainly just there to support him as a credible source of belief.

Skip some time, Nightmare and Horror often check in on the farms, and they seem to be doing well and spreading the word. By now Dust is free of his bands and started Knight training not too long ago. Horror, one day, boldly asks to join them. He expresses to Nightmare that he wants to be able to do his job more efficiently, and believes that it slows work down for Nightmare to have to babysit him. Killer goes off on missions, and he'd like to do the same for his peaceful check-ins. Along with that, he also has an insecurity that he might be broken beyond repair after his wound and starvation, so he wants to grow strong again. Not be just brittle bones.

Night, after careful thought, agrees. Horror has his head on straight and understands the full implications of the training. He would be prepared for knighthood. Horror insists that he appreciates Nightmare's goals and he's an improvement from the old King. A much, much, needed improvement. Night has to learn to prepare more physical training, but he decides that the best choice for that might just be to have Captain Rogers get Horror through the basics (under Nightmare's watch, of course). That way he can get a sense of Horror's strengths and weaknesses as they develop. But Horror is a quick learner, and once he gains enough mass back, Nightmare places Killer in charge of both new knight recruits and carefully supervises their training. Horror fits in no problem <3

[mrs-monaghan]

He wanted to stay at Jimin's house like he used to before all this.

I've been hearing it from lot of Jkkrs. But are you sure 😭 he was living with JM. Yes we have few similar car moments but other than that ? There is no info

Why would there be in4? Do you know what being in the closet means? You sound stupid

Okay, it has been a very eventful day. But I'll tackle one Jikook ask for the road coz I got 1AM on my end.

Anon, Jikookers have something called common sense. Thats how we came to the conclusion that Jikook were living together and even though it might just be occasionally rn for their safety, I will be using present tense.

When members first moved out, Jimin was the only one who purchased a dilapidated house and anyone could tell he sure as hell wasn't living there. So all 6 others were accounted for except him. So where was he living? Then him and JK were sharing cars all the time. For years. Not "a few moments". And when Hopekook became neighbours, we saw Jhope, Jimin and JK share cars a few times. Again, super sus. Why was it always Jikook at the crime scene?

Anyway, let's look at a few moments in no particular order.

Exhibit a) Spotted outside JK's apartment multiple times.

Exhibit b) Namkook on that one live and RM talked about the cafe infront of their house.

Why is he using our and why is JK nodding in agreement? Last I checked Minimoni are the ones who live in 9/1 not JK.

Moving on

Exhibit c) JK says he will make pizza while looking straight at Jimin which is what prompted Jimin to think he was talking about their home.

Tweet

But then JK clarified that no, he meant at work.

Exhibit d)

When they go home, JK will let Jimin rest. Right. Not sus at all.

Exhibit e) I feel like this sentence went over people's heads.

Jimin doesn't wake up and go look for Jungkook. He wakes up and the first thing he sees, is JK. Thats literally everything right there. Honestly. But sure, I got more.

Exhibit f) My memory is hazy on the context. But RM asked JK why he had watched something. I don't remember what. But JK replied that he watched it because he was at home with him. Him in this case being Jimin.

Exhibit g) Jimin was project manager for BE. So as they were winding up RM told everyone to send their shit to Jimin once they were done.

This part conveniently doesn't get translated but Karmy were kind enough to let us know, when JK taps Jimin's thigh he says; I'll just show it to you.

To recap, anon. Jimin will be at home so everyone else needs to send him their work but JK doesn't need to because he can just show it to him. Because he will already be there with him.

Exhibit h) A favourite of mine. So basically their favorite chef comes over for this episode and brings with him 7 knives including for Suga in absentia. So just so we understand, 7 members, 7 knives.

Basically, members are trying to one up each other and JK is like "we got 2 knives so we win" 👀 Are y'all getting that? Every member left with 1 knife each, but the Park Jeons are way ahead of them because they have 2 knives. Why is JK counting Jimin's knife??

(Side bar: Jimin's face is everything. He knows bae is slipping but he can't do anything without calling attention to it 😂😂)

Exhibit i) Last one since I'm out of image space. This one came from our president. Jimin tells us he hangs about at home naked and Jhope added that JK is usually in charge of music. Jimin's face was e👏🏾very👏🏾thing!👏🏾

Tweet

There you have it. Jikook live together. Jikook boyfriends. Jikook real.

[garf-lover96]

Vesuvia Weekly; How to Cry (Rowan and Julian)

so this is basically just a bunch of rambles about their crying mannerisms, in a form of two short fics. Julian's section is a little heavy and Rowan's is lighthearted, to make it balanced i guess...... i think i barely breached 1k words on this one!!

———

Julian

Julian makes an effort not to cry too often. Save for some circumstances when it's something he knows is easily fixable or he will be able to get over it quickly. A few tears shed here or there, it's not that big of a deal. Unless it's something more serious.

Even though he's learning that it's fine to ask for help when he needs it, it still doesn't feel entirely right for him to just let himself cry and let Rowan see it. So he'll bottle it up, go about his day, try to distract himself, until he cracks and melts into a sad little puddle of tears and choked up sobs. There's no hiding it then. Unfortunately Rowan is terribly inexperienced with comforting crying people...

The first time those abilities are put to test is when Julian returns home with an off looking strained smile. The greeting kiss on Rowan's forehead seems a little shorter and he doesn't even start talking about his day right after crossing the doorway. Rowan tries to ask if something happened a few times but ultimately decides not to pry. He trusts Julian to talk about it when he's ready. So he lets it go for a longer while, until it's time to sit down for dinner.

"I'm really not that hungry, dear." Julian says with a small, awkward smile, sitting down at the table anyway.

"Why? Did you eat at work?" Rowan asks curiously, not turning his eyes away from the stove, still needing to make some finishing touches to the food.

"No, Rowan, I..."

He doesn't even manage to finish his sentence before tears start flowing out of his eyes. He trembles and covers his eyes with his hands. Rowan whips his head around, freezing for a short moment, even though he had a hunch it was coming. After a quick deep breath, he approaches the crying doctor, who's already mumbling small apologies about breaking down like that in front of Rowan. He gently pulls his hands away from his face.

"Hey, hey, talk to me, please. What happened, Julian?"

Able to give only a barely comprehensive answer, Julian starts muttering something about how he lost a patient, which makes Rowan's heart sink. He pulls a chair over so he can sit next to him and pulls him into an embrace, not sure if he should even say anything. Julian melts into the hug, continuing to rant softly about his horrible day, getting Rowan's shoulder soaking wet with his tears. Rowan just listens as best as he can while running his fingers through Julian's hair slowly, in an attempt to provide any comfort.

By the time he manages to calm down, the food goes cold and Malak gets back from his evening freeflying time with Bluebell so Julian gets a whole entourage fussing over him. After a longer moment Rowan convinces him to at least have a little snack before they all haul him to bed. Wanting to make up for all the awkward silence earlier, Rowan cuddles up to Julian and asks him if he needs anything until they manage to fall asleep, while both birds preen Julian's hair until they can't feel their beaks anymore...

Rowan

Rowan gets the need to cry a lot more often than he'd like to. Whether he's especially frustrated, tired, angry, happy or just plain sad, chance is he'll end up having to just curl up into a ball and weep it out. He doesn't find it embarrassing per say, just a bit inconvenient.

Having Bluebell around him most of the time helps. She's the best at regulating his emotions in an efficient way. So when he's having a moment, he usually hides away in the backroom of the shop or his bedroom and lets Bluebell fuss over him and calm him down.

But even though cheering him up is not difficult at all, it's unfortunately pretty easy to screw up. It's all about the details! And Julian had to find out eventually (not necessarily the hard way but the mildly confusing one)...

One day, after closing the shop after serving a particularly rude customer, Rowan goes to the backroom to angry cry at the injustice he had to suffer. He knows it's not a big deal and that he should be fine in a few minutes but then Julian arrives and finds Rowan curled up in the corner of the room, weeping into his hands with Bluebell on his shoulder.

"God, Rowan, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Julian drops to his knees beside him, already frantically searching for any injuries.

"I'm fine!", Rowan catches Julian's hands into his own "Just had a bad day..." he doesn't even get the chance to elaborate before Julian gets to his feet again.

"Do you want me to get you a snack? Or I could make you tea..." and before Rowan has the chance to stop him, Julian already walks off while muttering to himself about other possible solutions to the "problem" he was presented with.

Rowan can only sigh and let himself cry for a while longer before Julian returns with a cup of tea and a bunch of cut up fruit in a bowl. This time he actually sits down next to Rowan.

"So do you wanna talk about it? Because I'm all ears, love."

"In a moment..." Rowan sniffs and takes a small sip of the tea.

Then he pauses and furrows his eyebrows slightly.

"You put honey in it...?" he asks while staring into the cup.

"Well- Of course I did. You like it that way, right?"

"But this is fruit tea... Why would you put honey in it? It makes it too sweet..." Rowan sobs out softly which makes Julian become concerned again and start apologizing.

"I'm sorry, I really had no idea- I'll make you a new cup, okay? Please don't be sad-" his reassurances get cut off when Rowan just wipes his eyes and gets to his feet, pulling Julian up with him. In just a few seconds, what seemed like another small breakdown of Rowan's, turns into a lecture, full of strongly worded tea opinions.

"...you can't put honey in herbal tea either, you know? It completely destroys the taste of it! Seriously, I thought this was common sense..." he grumbles as he pulls the very confused Julian along with him to the kitchen, to remake the tea together.

Bluebell, noticing that she's not needed anymore, stays behind and munches on the bowl of discarded fruit...