#I know this is true because if it wasn’t I would be dead lmao

[angelnumber27]

No matter how bad things get I can handle it 100%. I can get through anything and everything

[palajae]

episode three. | park sunghoon

PAIRING ▸ host!sunghoon x reader

GENRE ▸ ouran high school host club!au, high school! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WC ▸ 3.1k

SUMMARY ▸ host park sunghoon: the strong and silent type. with his cold, tsundere personality and killer good looks, it’s hard not to fall for sunghoon. his connection to sunoo is of utmost importance; however, you could be the one to change that. (but be warned, he’s a man of few words.)

AKA episode three of the kiss, kiss, fall in love! series

AN/NOTES ▸ social awkwardness, not proofread

sorry okay it’s been a fat minute since i posted but FINALLY JAE has gotten the next part out ‼️ i really channeled the engene in me for this one lmao.

EPISODE THREE. Beware the Ice Prince!

seriously, you only started attending the en-host club because your friends did and you really had nothing else to do.   

you had heard several of the boys in your grade were in the infamous club, but besides that, you had no interest in “club” affairs. 

natty and lily wouldn’t stop talking about how “chivalry wasn’t dead” and how “god had favorites.” you figured by going, you could kill some time and meet some new people.

mainly due to the fact that you were attached to the hip to your… well, sketchbook. what better to utilize the people around you for your passion? 

and the most pretty ones were—obviously—found at the en-host club! 

by going there, you could observe and hopefully see some good art. 

while your friends had their favorite designated hosts and activities, your first entrance to the club involved a lot of awkward silence and muttering. 

“you mean, you don’t want to hang out with any of us?” sunoo—you think—frowns. 

you shake your head, stammering. “n-no! i just, prefer to be alone. i can just-like-sit in the corner or something.”

he brightens up and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“i see. you just like the company?” 

you nod and the host smiles again. “that’s fine. you don’t have to be entertained by one of us. you’re welcome as much as you like! you could even sit by sunghoon!”

your eyebrows furrow as you follow sunoo’s line of sight to-

oh dear. 

probably the finest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

a true work of art. 

your heart pounds uncomfortably in your chest as you glance back at sunoo.

“he doesn’t like to talk much either, so i think you two will get along well!” 

you look uncertainly at the controlled chaos happening all around the room, before back at sunoo. 

he nods encouragingly at you. “don’t worry. even though sunghoon looks like it, he doesn’t bite. in fact, it’s probably the opposite.”

holding your breath, you clutch your sketchbook tighter in your hands before approaching the table sunghoon was quietly sitting at. 

he didn’t even do anything, yet you felt so intimidated. 

wow, it was really stifling to be in his presence. awkwardly, you take a seat. and although he doesn’t move, you feel his eyes land on you. 

biting your lip, you hesitantly wave. 

that was it. no words exchanged. 

after a while, you finally began to relax. still, neither of you said anything. you even felt alright enough to open your sketchbook. 

your eyes would travel across the room, although they always landed on the same person. the one sitting in front of you, silently sipping his tea.

so you sketched. and you enjoyed it. so much to the point you returned the day after, and the day after. 

eventually, the hosts came to know you as a regular. they knew your exact order and your routine. the same every time you came—even without your friends. 

they understood that you simply appreciated sitting and observing. with all the things going on at the club, you enjoyed staying off to the side the most. 

like sunghoon. 

after the first day, you couldn’t work up the courage to approach and sit next to him when he wasn’t with sunoo hosting. 

that was fine. you had eyes. you could sketch him as long as you could see him. pages, filled with a variety of sketches, began to fill up your notebook. 

and most of them were of sunghoon. 

who were you kidding—all of them were of him. every outfit in every season, every expression of his (and he rarely showed emotion). you basically memorized sunghoon’s face. 

and in your time observing at the en-host club, you realized you had only heard him speak a total of six phrases: welcome, goodbye, yes, no, and thank you. 

he more than piqued your interest, but you were far too shy and unmotivated to do something about it. 

checking the clock, you sigh wistfully while putting your sketchbook back into your bag. as always, this was your time to leave. occasionally, one of the hosts would notice you leaving and wave goodbye. 

this time, you’re almost to the door when a tall figure suddenly appears in your line of vision. 

you falter, swallowing abruptly when you realize it’s sunghoon. he looks dashing in his pink hoodie and light jeans—someone mentioned the boys had a boyfriend concept today.  

you stare up at him curiously until he steps closer to you. your mouth dries up at the close proximity. you feel like you can hear your blood rushing in your ears. 

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, as per usual. instead, he walks over and holds open the door for you. 

for a second, you don’t move. and then it hits you. 

what the what the what the, he opened the door for you! 

you quickly squeak out a thank you before practically dashing out of the club room. you’re not sure if you heard or imagined the soft “get home safe,” coming from his voice. 

was he watching you? is that how he knew to open the door? why did he go all the way to help you? did he know what time you usually left? 

you fall onto your bed with a sigh. you were overthinking, and you were delusional. just a little bit. 

perhaps, you would work up the courage to talk to him next time.

you swear you’re not that delusional. most of the time it was you who was staring at sunghoon, sneaking glances at him when he wasn’t looking. whenever he was busy hosting. honestly, your best works were of his stunning side profile. 

but something feels different from that day forward. 

like…like sunghoon was the one staring at you. at first, you were sure you felt eyes on you. 

you would glance up from your sketchbook with a frown, glancing around the room. it was at that moment you would catch sunghoon turning away from you. 

but in what world would he be looking at you? 

he didn’t say a single word. 

it happened so often to the point where you would actually meet his eyes before looking away. you always broke eye contact first. 

this back-and-forth occurred four times before you decided to do something. yes, you counted. 

you decided to remind yourself that you only live once, and you took the chance. you finally stopped being a coward and sat next to sunghoon, one lovely afternoon. 

he seems almost shocked when you approach him, like your very first day at the host club. 

once again, no words were spoken. you simply smiled before taking the seat. unlike the other girls who usually fawned and squealed over him, all you did was sit and enjoy his company. honestly, he was so familiar to you at this point, you actually felt comfortable.   

and when you thought he wasn’t looking, you liked to sneak peeks at him as well. he was even more breathtaking up close. 

that became your daily routine whenever sunghoon was free. although it was absurd, you once thought that maybe he looked forward to sitting and watching with you. 

“what’s up with you and sunghoon?”

“h-huh?”

natty leans over from her desk to shoot you a look. “i mean, what are you two doing in the corner all day?”

you look down at your desk bashfully, “it’s not all day…i just enjoy his company.” 

lily laughs, “sure. i bet you have a lot fun staring at him.” 

you feel your face get hot as natty elbows her. “i think the two of you are cute. even if you have nothing to say to each other.” 

“yeah, i don’t know how you managed to get so close to him. sunghoon is pretty detached from the other girls. he’s just there half the time with sunoo.”

your heart quickens. was that true? 

lily sighs, almost face planting into the table. “what up with all the boys recently? heeseung has been so obsessed with that one student who i don’t even know the name of since they’re so busy studying all the time. and then the top two people of our class are constantly preoccupied with each other. at this rate, i’m gonna move to jake…”

you nodded in contemplation. she was right, you’ve seen heeseung following around your classmate like a baby duck following their mom. even weirder, the two smartest people in your grade started to sit together at the club. 

you were there for it all. 

“sim jaeyun? um, I’m not sure about him. he and riki have a lot of crazy fan girls,” natty wrinkles her nose. “hey, i did hear there was a new host! his name is jung…jung-something.”

“jungwon,” you finish for her. she nods, “i think he’s pretty handsome.”

“not as much as sunghoon though,” you unconsciously mutter. 

sunghoon can easily remember the first day you walked in, eyes wide like you were a kid on their first day of school. the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly. you looked like a baby kitten. 

he catches himself, focusing back on sipping tea while sunoo devoured his sweet treats. 

“do you want a bite, hoon?”

he shakes his head amusedly at sunoo’s bright expression. 

“you should stop eating so many sweets. you already had two slices of cake today.” 

while sunoo pouts and gets up to put his plate away, sunghoon refocuses his attention on you. he didn’t mean to—his gaze was just drawn to your presence. 

he watches wordlessly as sunoo approaches you. you looked so intimidated, sunghoon already felt bad and he didn’t know the reason. 

he catches himself again, internally chiding his own behavior. get a grip, you’re a host. 

suddenly, you’re approaching him. you look like a kitten again in front of him, just like when you first walked in. his whole body tenses. 

sunghoon waits, yet you don’t say anything. only a simple wave and that’s enough to light a fire in his heart. 

he’s surprised to see you sit down and pull out a sketchbook. he observes as you flip through the pages, trying to sneak a peek. but then he realizes he’s being kinda, really creepy. 

so sunghoon purposely turns away to focus. look anywhere but at the person sitting across from you, he repeats to himself over and over. 

after that day, he noticed you didn’t sit next to him. for quite a while. 

so, he chose to watch you. he watched you walk in every afternoon with a hesitant smile. he watched as you took the same seat near the window and pulled out your scuffed up notebook to draw. 

he watched how your lips pursed when you weren’t happy with a sketch, or how you would stop to think while looking around you. 

sunghoon liked the way your eyes lit up when you turned to a blank, fresh page. and when you would smile and greet the other hosts, gratefully accepting a cup of tea. even the look of concern you had on your face as you watched jake and riki do something stupidly dangerous again. 

the thing he liked the most, however, was when he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. 

sunghoon’s not sure why, but he likes it. after all, he couldn’t say anything. he did the same thing to you. 

he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

that’s why, when you sit across from him one day with that stunning smile of yours, his breath hitched. 

sunghoon… wanted to say something. he tried, really tried, but no words would come out. he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

apparently, that was fine with you. you relaxed in the silence, so he did too. 

it’s not like he meant to, but he snuck a glance. he was so curious as to what you had been working on in that sketchbook of yours. he knew it had to be your prized possession, the way you carried it around everywhere. 

sunghoon certainly wasn’t expecting to see his own face, beautifully drawn. it was him from a few weeks ago, last week, and yesterday. he remembers the detective concept and outfits they adorned. 

you… you sketched it all. all this time, you sketched him? 

he’s truly speechless, and everyone knew it was hard to make the stoic sunghoon react. 

“…are you friends with y/n?” he randomly asks one day after the club had closed for the day, completely out of the blue. 

sunoo tilts his head, “we’ve talked. why?” 

heeseung pops by, “did i hear hoon’s got a crush? who could have warmed the cold tsundere sunghoon’s heart?”

although he wants to roll his eyes, he simply looks away. 

“y/n?” riki calls from where he’s playing catch with jake, “the one who doesn’t say anything and draws all day?”

“they could if they wanted to,” sunghoon remarks quietly. riki shrugs. 

sunoo watches sunghoon with an inquisitive expression. 

he’s never seen his friend act like that with the other guests before… 

“it’s his birthday soon?” the words spill out of your mouth without even realizing it. you stopped, overhearing some girls sitting near you. 

they eye you, and it registers in your head that they know you’re the one whom sunghoon often sits next to. you seem oh so close to him, and yet you don’t know his birthday? you feel embarrassed, making your way to your normal seat.

“hoon? yeah, his birthday is in three days,” sunoo nods. “why? are you planning something?” 

you’re quick to shake your head, flustered. “nono, i was simply curious… thanks for letting me know.” 

alright. you officially have three days to find sunghoon a gift. 

it’s only then it hits you. you know close to nothing about sunghoon. other than the fact that he was a host, you barely knew his likes or dislikes. heck, you barely even spoke to him. 

you’re doomed. all the other guests were probably going to get him extravagant gifts that were exactly to his liking. 

you? you scrambled to find something that would come in three days. and you weren’t even sure if he would like it. at the least, he could regift it to someone else if he really hated it. 

you clutch the small gift bag nervously behind you as you enter the host club. 

usually, decorations would be set up for the members’ birthdays. however, sunghoon never wanted a big celebration so they would get him a simple birthday cake every year. at least, that’s what sunoo told you. 

sunghoon wanted his birthday day to feel like any other ordinary day. you hoped you could stay true to that. 

or…not.

the sight of said host rejecting someone’s gift to him is the first thing that greets you. your smile immediately falters. 

he didn’t like gifts? your heart begins to race. crap, crap. what were you going to do? you couldn’t hide the gift—someone would find it. it was obviously who it was for, with the big fat words happy birthday printed all over the bag. plus your names written on it, addressed to sunghoon. 

your eyes follow him to his usual seat, only for your heart to drop. 

sunghoon looks around expectantly. almost like, he was… looking for someone (you). he does. almost immediately. 

if you move, he’ll see the bag behind you. heart racing, you decide to charge ahead and approach him. you couldn’t face a rejection of the gift you spent hours trying to find, but you also didn’t want to leave him hanging. 

you walk over nervously, doing your absolute best to hide the bag and appear unaffected. maybe he wouldn’t notice, right?

wrong. sunghoon was probably the most observant person on the earth. his eyes immediately fall to your suspicious hands.

it was over. his eyes flick back up to you with a questioning look in them. 

you close your eyes briefly, internally falling to your knees. well, there was nothing else to do. 

you nervously thrust out the bag towards him, hiding your face as you softly say,

“happy birthday, sunghoon.” 

you hold your breath and wait embarrassingly for the painful rejection. 

spoiler: it never comes. 

“thank you.” 

hearing his voice causes shivers to run down your spine. your eyes fly open. did he just…accept your gift? and more importantly, he spoke to you?!

he takes the bag and puts it aside on the table. 

“are you not going to open it?” 

he looks at your expectant expression before beginning to unwrap the gift. 

“i thought maybe we could share,” you mumble. 

sunghoon carefully opens the intricate wrapping to unveil the gift you ultimately decided on: a smooth, leather sketchbook with pencils. 

“now we’re matching,” you whisper before pulling out your own. 

“i… don’t know what to do with it.”

hearing his voice again still makes goosebumps appear on your arm. you stifle a laugh as you reach over to demonstrate. 

the real sunghoon watches in awe as you begin roughly drawing something in his new sketchbook. when you retract your arm, he’s finally able to see what you did. it’s a beautiful drawing of a cake and the words, happy sunghoon day! 

he glances up at you with wide eyes. you shrug and only look away. to your surprise, sunghoon determinedly picks up a pen and begins doodling as well. 

soon enough, the first page is filled with random drawings, doodles, and most importantly, meaningful connections. 

you both smile and silently laugh at each other’s drawings. sunghoon’s favorite is your drawing of a baby sunoo and his cake while your favorite is of sunghoon’s (rather awful, yet still recognizable) drawing of the seven hosts. 

this is the first time you’ve felt like you truly communicated with sunghoon, even if it was through a paper and pen instead of words. 

when the page is filled completely, you admire your collaboration work proudly. 

“thank you, y/n.”

your heart warms. “o-of course,” you stammer. maybe you were slightly very internally freaking out that he addressed you by your name. 

sunghoon must’ve seen your bashful expression because he reaches over to pat your head. nothing else had to be said, because in that moment, you felt all your feelings were conveyed. 

park sunghoon was supposed to be the cold and tsundere type of host. yet around you, he felt vulnerable, like you brought out a different side of him. 

as you sit across from him, sharing smiles, you wish this moment could last forever. 

all you can think is that sunghoon’s soul is so pure and needs to be preserved, protected. you really hope you can be the one to forever do that. 

previous episode. | next episode.

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount

@hoeshii @love-4-keum @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @who-tf-soddhi

@microwvdstrawb3rri3s @asteria-wood @enhacatalog @june-pop @ohsjy

@ashtxrie @isoobie @mireyaaaaaaaaa @choppedballoondetective

SERIES TAGLIST ▸ @j3nnypng @llvrhee @mrchweeee @yoonights @yizhoutv

@xnkier @yongbokified @en-kays @in-somnias-world @shi-toshi

@avacelestepereira @kyanmeai @secretlyapartofthisfandom @enhaz1 @gojoelixir

@wonbinsnovia @nes-caf @renchai @m3chigo @starfallia

@grumble-0 @soobinbunnie5 @wonboni @yeahhemmings- @dammit-jjk

@bigwhatsblog @ppussamz @jayhoonvroom @jaeyuuns @lakoya

@loumin908 @jungwon-0902 @hooniiibunn @eneiyri

@bunnihhoon @mumeimei @jenniferecand @firstclassjaylee @qwonyoung23

@ghostiiess @charlizefaye

(if i missed anyone i’m sorry pls send in another message!) send a message to be added to the taglist!

@kflixnet

[yandere-yearnings]

Know Me Like the Devil Knows My Sins (Loser!Yandere x GN!Reader)

feat. genie's loser yan

♡ oneshot, approx. 1.5k words

♡ post-specific warnings: yandere themes, implied kidnapping, violence, strangulation, implied death

♡ a/n: thank you to @moyazaika for letting me write abt his oc, loser yan!! genie, if you read this, pls ignore the fact that my characterisation sucks ass. this was over 3k but i went back and cut out the waffle bc there was a lot of it lmao, so ig it's technically edited, but not proofread.

♡♡♡

This basement was cold. 

Heated blankets and warm meals, however many times a day they were brought to you, didn’t change much. No windows or light for even a semblance of passing time, all you had was the annoying draft that skimmed through the door at the top of the staircase — the one you weren’t allowed near. You wouldn’t have been able to escape even if you wanted to, not with the chain around your ankle. For as free as he tried to make you feel, the heavy metal was a constant reminder that there was no liberty in his love, if it could even be called that.

You were waiting for his return, less because you wanted to and more because it was the only thing you could do other than read the books he’d given you. They were all your favourites, from the stories your mother used to read you as a child to the ones you’d pick up on your way home when you’d grown up. At first, you’d found the thoughtfulness of it endearing, feeling seen and understood and catered to. Somewhere, kept within his walls, you didn’t blame yourself for becoming as delusional as he was.

How could you enjoy anything anymore, with no one to share it with?

Each new day that passed, every page you would read and read again, only accomplished you in realising the loneliness that coiled around you. Second by second, growing larger than your life had been before this. Soon, your loved ones would stop looking for you. Soon, you’d be considered dead — and in death you would be all his. You knew that was what he wanted.

You had made yourself comfortable on the vulnerabilities he presented to you, in the way he shook when your fingers stroked his skin, his shudders at your calling his name. That was all too good to be true. If you had actual control in this, he’d have surrendered to you long ago. You’d been testing it. Playing mind games, pushing limits — he’d shut you down quick, then cover the shrewdness in his eyes with a bashful smile. You were no fool, and clearly he wasn’t either.

Your bitterness surmounted with the echoing of locks clicking open. There wasn’t a need for as many as he had placed to keep you here, you weren’t sure you could even run anymore. You hadn’t used your legs in so long. He’d surely catch you. He’d rip your throat out like he did in your nightmares. You had no faith you wouldn’t become another layer of red on the white paint surrounding. Perhaps you should’ve been thankful, if fear were to be a knife, he’d certainly dulled it for you — slinking in, shoulders slumped and looking as meek as ever. Really, from the first glance, he didn’t look like he could hurt a fly.

“Darling…” there was that tone, demure, like you could do anything to hurt him from your place on this filthy mattress, your place on the floor as he stood above you. Towering. This entire thing felt like a sick joke. You’d once considered there being a chance for you. Hope crumbled just like he did, to his knees to look into your eyes. “I missed you so much today, my love.”

You blinked at him. You knew where this was going.

“I mean- I miss you every day, don’t get me wrong!” Sheepish laughter, twitching fingers — all signs of his wanting your validation. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, not at all. Work has been so hard, and you’re the only thing I can look forward to truly and- and I really, really wanted to come back home quickly and ask if you’d...”

His sentence trailed off, and it took all you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. He wasn’t very creative, that much was obvious. You’d initially chalked it up to some cute sort of performance anxiety that he experienced because he wanted to come off as appealing to you. Now, it had begun to dawn on you that he was simply struggling to keep up the pathetics. As you curled your digits into his hair, as you tugged him closer and let him muffle his weak moan into your neck, you wondered why either of you were bothering anymore. No audience except for the earwigs that crawled about, no one who’d watch this stupid, repetitive show.

“I’ll hold you,” you whispered, tired enough that even your dishonesty could be mistaken as gentle. “I’ll hold your heart. Don’t worry. I know.”

You could feel his lips on your skin, chapped, scraping where he tried to formulate words. You were sure he too felt this warring between the both of you, this constant fight, teasing superiority, challenging who would take the reigns in this sombre dance. Bored out of your mind, anticipating when he’d get tired of you — but you were his infatuation so that could never happen.

“Not enough about me,” he breathed, “my sweetheart, my entire world, you wouldn’t know what I’ve done for you.” His hands dug into your waist where they rested, gripping flesh over fabric like it would give him warmth. It wouldn’t, because it was freezing in here.

“Won’t you tell me?”

Quiet laughter. “You’d be scared if I did.”

“I already am.” Your words made him pull away, made him peer at you with those eyes. You held his gaze. “I already am afraid of you. I already know who you are. Tell me anyway, since-”

“Since you love me.” He interrupted you, finished your sentence with words you had not been planning to utter. He didn’t say it tentatively enough; gave himself away with that and the severe expression on his face that his hair did not hide. It was a shame that now wasn’t one of your better days, lest you’d have heeded the silent warning.

“Since I can’t leave,” you corrected. No energy for even a single ounce of regret, none to even whimper at the violent pressure of his grip on your collarbones.

Sometimes, he’d come to you with blood caked under his fingernails. Sitting there like he was sinless, mouth running for hours about you in every way he could. All your likes and dislikes, all your habits, all your life — as if you didn’t know yourself. Again, those lips were moving, spitting at you like it could quell the anger you could see bubbling beneath the surface.

Your perfect person, he spilled descriptions like the ideals you once had were his intimate study, asking you why. Why wasn’t he enough even though he’s everything you’d ever wanted? When he’d made sure of it? Your chance to answer was taken by lithe fingers on your neck, but if you could, you’d have told him that at its core, it was just that every desire you had, looked like something disgusting on him.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t like you, c’mon,” his words came ringing, buzzing, an entire choir of metal scraping metal underwater, your world spinning and head pressed back into the mattress too fast to stop him from climbing on top of you, “don’t deny your feelings for me.”

Your eyes rolled back and his hold on you only loosened a fraction. Staring at the dark inside your own skull, gasping breaths through bruised tissue. You thought you heard knocking, and surely it’d be death at your door if you didn’t backtrack now, didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, like you had been until you’d lost yourself in your own lies.

Survival instinct should’ve kicked in, but then sight and sound returned to you, and you accepted that you wouldn’t be the hero in your story. You’d get yourself killed, yet, how could you love a man that loomed over you with eyes on fire? He’d burn you up to make it through the winter, and find another once your ashes were blown away.

Even if it made you a villain, drowning in the blood pooling from your ears, you owed yourself your last rasp to him. “I hate you,” broken and choked on tears cutting through the numbness. Your nails clawing everywhere you could reach, on this bed of springs that felt nothing like the one you so desperately wanted to return to, you mourned all you were losing. 

Limbs going numb — salt — you’d never see home again.

When under constant observation, there’s only so much one can conceal about themselves. He knew that well. From the pictures of you in his gallery and the endless notes with your name repeated over and over and over — he’d chosen to obsess, and you were forced to, and you became his mirror the longer he kept you. Going mad, crazy, insane because his was the only face you could remember anymore.

You knew his moods from his scent and his needs from his touch, you knew him to the heart of the blank slate he’d always been, you knew him rooted carnally to you because it was the only thing grounding him. He hadn’t needed to tell you anything really, and you didn’t need to push. You knew him like the devil knew his sins.

And he’d take you to hell for it.

[satans-helper]

In Your Fantasy

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~5300

Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~

This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3

P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.

---

You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library. 

“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart. 

When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows. 

You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”

Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.” 

You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny. 

“No, a guy and a girl.”

“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf.  “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”

Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”

“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”

You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”

“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”

You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”

Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”

You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.” 

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”

You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”

Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next. 

“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.

“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”

“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!” 

“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”

“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued. 

“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”

You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment? 

Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.

“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.” 

You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”

Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.

“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um…thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”

“Well…” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim. 

Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.” 

Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.

Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves. 

“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”

“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”

You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”

“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”

-

There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job. 

How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before. 

So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?

None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that. 

When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.

“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”

A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between. 

Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.

“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”

Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.

Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss. 

“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues. 

“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.

“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”

You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy. 

You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity. 

Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.

Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.

“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.

The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity. 

“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt. 

“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.

“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”

Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.

He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open. 

One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.

“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.

You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.

His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs. 

Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next. 

He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him. 

“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”

Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”

“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.

“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.

“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.

That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced. 

But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”

“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”

Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.

But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you. 

His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement. 

“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”

Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”

You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.

When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more. 

“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.

“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”

“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you. 

“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic. 

“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.” 

“Maybe?”

“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”

Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”

Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”

“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”

“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.” 

“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”

---

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can let me know here or DM me :)

Tagging: @kissingsun @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @mindastreamofcolours @wetkleenex-gvf @itsafullmoon @heckingfrick @peaceloveunitygvf @musicspeaks @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

[fredwkong]

Himbo Maker: Aaron

Aaron could admit to himself that he had always been a nerd. He was smart enough that he had skipped grades through high school and sailed through his degree. Now he was working as a civil engineer. He wore a solid colour button up shirt, corduroy pants, and tighty whities every day, just because he found them comfortable.

As an engineer, Aaron had more than a bit of the tech nerd in him, and he wasn’t immune to the AI craze. When all of his friends on an online forum started raving about some new AI chatbot, Aaron was curious.

Him-br.AI was marketed as an AI chatbot that helped you to make big changes in your life. It appeared to be some kind of self-help assistance bot. Aaron signed up for the free trial and loaded up a chatroom. He didn’t notice that, since he was on the free trial, he didn’t get to decide what the bot would help him to change. After a few seconds of loading, he received his first message from the bot.

Himbo_mkr: Hey bro, what’s up?

Eng-boy: Uh, hi. What’s up?

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I had a sick workout, huhuhu. My muscles are all pumped up and covered in sweat. Hot, right?

Aaron couldn’t deny that did sound hot. His dick chubbed up in his corduroys. This bot sounded a bit like an idiot, but it wasn’t like he was real. Aaron could play along and get off. Tons of guys were probably doing it.

Eng-boy: That does sound hot! Since you’re so sweaty, you’ve probably got a lot of musk coming off your body, right?

Himbo_mkr: Yeah, bro! My hot pits, crotch, and asscrack give off a totally rancid stench, lmao. It gets me hard knowing that I smell like such a man.

It was a bit surprising that a bot could talk about getting hard, Aaron thought, but by now he was getting too into it. He rubbed his bulge through his pants and typed another message.

Eng-boy: Sounds like you’re a pretty dumb muscle bro, huh?

Himbo_mkr: Bruh, I’m a himbo, of course I am! You’re not the sharpest knife either, lol.

Aaron was a bit offended, but then he thought back, and he decided that the bot was kind of right. He wasn’t, like, a dummy, but he wasn’t valedictorian, either. He’d had a solid B average, which had gotten him an okay engineering degree. So he was stuck in a dead-end permits office, whatever. The money was good.

Eng-boy: Guess you’re right, haha. I always thought I could have been smarter.

Himbo_mkr: Bro, why? You’re a proud bro. Brains are, like, your lowest priority, huhuhu.

For an instant, Aaron felt light-headed. He was no… bro, right? But as he looked around the room, it seemed like that was true. His engineering degree was surrounded by pics of himself and his bros partying at school. There weren’t any fantasy novels on his shelf, just gay porn magazines. The sheets on his bed weren’t crisp and fresh, but kind of a sweaty mess.

Aaron scratched under his skinny armpit and sniffed the mild scent he gave off. He had to wear the cords and the button up for work, but he was definitely a bro, through and through, despite his skinny physique. He was kind of a dumbass, but he was good enough at his job, even though dealing with shipments wasn’t exactly what an engineer should be doing.

Eng-bro: Of course, bro. When I’m off the clock, I’m all for the bros. Who needs smarts?

Himbo_mkr: Exactly, bro! Dumb bros like us have no inhibitions and we’re worry free!

Aaron was properly jacking his hard, if average, cock now. He was feeling warm and horny, and thinking about how big this himbo bro’s ass must be. He vaguely remembered something about a bot or something, but he didn’t care.

Eng-bro: I wanna play with your big muscle tits and asscheeks, bro.

Himbo_mkr: That’s so like you, bro. I bet you’re sweating like a pig, too. Your shirt’s probably covered in musky sweat stains.

Aaron looked down and chuckled. The himbo was right again! His button up shirt was soaked through and translucent, showing off his skinny chest. He had yellowing pit stains that were totally dripping with salty, musky sweat.

His whole room stank from all his sweat. In spite of his nerdy stature, Aaron had always had overproductive sweat glands. He’d given up on controlling it in high school, instead choosing to embrace his natural musk. These days, he cultivated it.

Sweat-bro: You know it, bro. Bet you wish you were here to peel it off me, bro.

Himbo_mkr: Strip, bro! Your thick, dumb chest muscles are probably too big for a button-up, anyway.

Aaron started unbuttoning his shirt. It was hard, with his thick, sweat- and pre-slicked fingers. After a moment, he gave up and ripped the shirt open, chuckling, “Huhu, Superman!” as he did. As he peeled the soaked fabric off his skin, it felt like Aaron was seeing his massive pecs for the first time. They were perfectly rounded with big, dark nipples. He rubbed a hand over his sexy musclegut, too.

Himbo_mkr: Don’t forget those giant arms of yours, either.

Aaron paused in the action of licking the sweat off his peaked, solid bicep. He was such a dumbass sometimes, he’d totally forgotten he was in a chat! Hopefully this bro wasn’t too mad.

Sweat-bro: Dude, I gotta take off these cords, they’re getting smelly from all the pre and shit.

Himbo_mkr: Don’t forget to take off your underwear, too, bro! You don’t want it to snap around that dumptruck ass of yours.

It took Aaron several seconds and lying down on his bed to pull off his corduroy pants and tighty whities. The closure was too complicated for his dumb bro brain to figure out, plus his huge ass and thick thighs had been crammed in there like sausage meat. Huhu, sausage. Once he was naked, he started jacking again, his little dick almost invisible in his huge hand. He moaned so loud in his deep, dumb voice that he missed the next notification.

Himbo_mkr: Yeah, jack that big Korean cock. Don’t forget to pay attention to your big bull balls and slutty hole, too.

All the blemishes and acne scars on Aaron’s skin vanished as his skin smoothed out and lightened. His hair turned black and straightened out. His pubes darkened too, growing out into a real forest along to frame his dick and balls. He grunted and groaned even more as he tugged on his balls. He started to bounce his big, jiggly ass up and down to better feel the huge plug filling up his hungry asshole.

Himbo_mkr: You’re wearing a white tank, right, bro? And those slutty little jean shorts are around your ankles with your musky jockstrap as you jerk. And those big, smelly feet of yours. You’re wearing your Converse, right?

As a musky Asian himbo, Aaron always wore a sweat-soaked white tank, which showed off his bulky pec shelf and protruding musclegut. His favourite pair of booty shorts were down around his ankles, along with the jockstrap he’d worn today. Aaron swung his legs into the air to get better access to his hole, showing off his boat-like white high-tops, which were stained with sweat because he never wore socks.

While Aaron kept on jacking off on his unwashed, cum-crusted sheets in his messy, musky room, the Him-br.AI chatroom closed itself. Another window opened an instant later, starting up a video stream. Now anyone on the internet could see Aaron, the dumb, sweaty Korean himbo, pleasure himself and lick up his musk. For a fee, they could even control the size and vibrations of his plug to pleasure his slutty himbo hole.

Idea with assistance from a bot of my own creation. EDIT: Format inspired by Codename: Bear_mkr by @biggerchanger . Thanks to @imsrtman​ for catching that.

[bookofbonbon]

all a lie - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Abusive relationship. Death. Descriptions of dead person. Spoilers for TBOSBAS.

Summary: Your relationship with Coriolanus Snow was all a lie.

Word Count: 1k+.

A/N: Sad girl hours. I found the angst fic. I HAD TO THROW IN THE DESTIEL LINE HAHAH (please tell me if you catch it - it's very obvious lmao).

Your engagement to Coriolanus Snow was an arranged one. It was no secret. Everyone in Panem knew. History would report that it was a pre-arrangement between best friends and co-creators of The Hunger Games, Crassus Snow and Casca Highbottom.

Details would emerge how when Crassus Snow’s wife birthed a son and Casca Highbottom's wife a daughter, the pair of bestfriends wanted to join their families; intertwining two of Panem’s most influential families for an eternity.

Feature after feature of the upcoming wedding would be written and published; networks broadcasting far and wide for all to see. It was of course, a bonus that the couple were also in love.

The headlines would call it things like fate and true love, and the people of Panem would fall head over heels for it. 

It was all a lie of course. A lie conceived by Coriolanus Snow. The arrangement, the engagement, being in love. None of it was real.

“I chose her also because I hate her,” you’d overheard him one day. A long pause; the drawn out silence broken only by the sound of his haughty laughter. You could hear the smugness in his voice. “She’s perfect.” 

None would know that the arrangement itself was false but you were constantly reminded by those who were privy to the true nature of your relationship with him that you should be grateful. How lucky you were that the noble Coriolanus Snow would honour the wishes of his great father for you after the shame your own brought.

“You should be thanking me,” Coriolanus hissed, face close to yours and his grip tightening around your arm. “Your father damned you. If it weren’t for me, if I didn’t come up with this arrangement for you, you’d be nothing. I saved you. I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

The hardest part was that you were starting to believe it too. Reality and make-believe blurring into one - it was becoming increasingly more difficult to discern what was real from what was not; unsure of right from left, up from down. Everything snatched away from you in a moment's notice and you should be grateful. Everyone in Panem is happy for you but, you.

But, Coriolanus lied about the engagement, he was probably lying about that too. 

Of course, it hadn’t always been this way. There was a time that existed when the two of you were friends, genuinely. Your father’s were friends, the very best and so were the two of you - you think.

In hindsight, you wondered if the downfall was inevitable, given the history; something broke down somewhere, your father’s weren’t particularly cordial in their later years. You had never thought that it would affect the two of you as well but, pinpointing when your own friendship with Coriolanus shifted into other was easy - the beginning of your mentorships for The 10th Annual Hunger Games and over the course of the next two months following that until it was dead… along with you father. 

You groan, loudly and keel forward. 

You press your free hand to your forehead but it doesn’t stop the barrage of images of your father’s lifeless body from coming to mind; slumped over his desk, nose bloody, face blue and a blank stare.

A journal would later be found amongst his belongings when Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus volunteered to clear out his things from the academy; a journal full of the ramblings of a mad, drug-addled man, that damned your father all to hell as a rebel. You were sure it wasn’t his - you couldn’t prove that it wasn’t. 

But one thing that you were certain of in all of that, was that there was only one common denominator - Coriolanus Snow. 

You try not to think about how his resentment for your father grew tenfold between reaping day and your father’s last, festering into something rotten. How this entire arrangement was likely revenge so, he would have you, Casca Highbottom’s daughter under his thumb and locked in his cage for the rest of your life to make up for the years of your father’s torment.

The newspapers would report The Revered Dean Casca Highbottom Succumbs to Morphling Addiction, despite the toxicology report finding traces of rat poison in his system; despite your father divulging that Lucy Gray used rat poison to win, smuggled in by Coriolanus Snow; despite you seeing Coriolanus Snow leaving your father’s classroom just moments before you found his body. 

“Snow lands on top.” you’d watch him taunt your father’s grave on the day your engagement was announced.

Coriolanus Snow was never really your friend.

You think you might be sick.

You remind yourself it’s all hearsay and speculation, the official reports read accidental overdose and you’d push that small voice that told you otherwise further and further into the darkest crevices of your mind because Coriolanus Snow saved you. 

“Darling,” Coriolanus calls, voice mechanical. 

You remain seated with your hand pressed to your forehead for a few seconds longer until it clicks - he’s talking to you. 

Hand sliding down your face, the band of your engagement ring is cool against your warm skin. Your elbow digs into your thigh as you rest your chin on your palm and look up at him  with what you hope appear to be sober eyes and as best of a smile as you could muster, given your current state. 

“The Vickers and Creeds are about to leave, we will see them out.” 

Not a question but a command as he holds his hand out stoically for you to take; eyes swimming with restrained rage - had they always been so cold? Perhaps or perhaps not - not that you particularly cared at the moment, you just wanted everyone to leave. 

If you could’ve, you yourself would’ve left the party a long time ago - a luxury unfortunately, not afforded to guests of honour. Not that you felt like a guest of honour. Quite frankly, nursing a migraine in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other whilst avoiding your guests for the duration of the night was not at all how you imagined your own engagement party to be but, that was exactly how it was.

There’s a familiar burning sensation in your nose, a prickling at the back of your eyes, the feeling of something stuck in your throat. 

You hiccup and something akin to concern flashes in Coriolanus’s eyes but it's gone as quickly as it came - you were probably imagining it.

“Put the glass of champagne down,” he tells you and you do.

You want to laugh- or maybe cry but, instead you take his hand, intertwine your fingers, hold his hand loosely and your jaw tightly and let him lead the way. 

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

[carlsangel]

you owe me (g.i.t.w, ch.7)

carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: normal jazzzzz probably fluff

masterlist here!

read chapters 1-6 here!

(if you want more chapters send a req! well… when they’re open again LMAO)

After everything you chose to move into Alexandria. It was a new adjustment, that’s for sure. With everything that’d just happened, Alexandria’s walls being breached you never really got the opportunity to see it in its true form. The first week you stayed there it was all about cleaning. Getting rid of the bodies and putting them all down. It wasn’t necessarily ideal, but you had shelter.

During that week and extended into another few, the community focused on rebuilding. The wall was put back up soon after it all but things like houses needed to be fixed and refurnished. A lot of houses were covered in things like human blood, walker blood, walker guts, etc. Everything needed a nice scrub. Not to mention the newly infested pond.

Between all of that, you’d actually sort of interacted with the people of Alexandria. Or tried to at least. Everything was always awkward; every conversation you had made you wish you never spoke to Carl. Not because you don’t like Carl, but just because it was so embarrassing. You didn’t realize what it was like to interact with people again. Not everyone was going to be like Carl or your sister, Paige. You learnt that the hard way.

Regardless you met almost everyone. The most intimidating was Carls family. They knew you and appreciated you. They thanked you for saving his life but it was still terribly uncomfortable for you. The thought that you might mess it up terrified you. Your sister did her best to help.

Speaking of Paige, you actually were able to stay in an apartment with her which was something you never imagined possible. You dreamed about living together and what it’d be like when you believed she was dead, but you never thought your dream would come true. You got your own room which, again was unfathomable. You didn’t have much to decorate with but you did have Carl over for some inspiration. After PT of course. He couldn’t get up for a while after losing his eye.

“I think it’s nice.” He tells you, looking around the room and swiping the dresser of its dust. You’re sat at the edge of the bed. “I dunno…is yours decorated?” You question. He lingers by your bag in the corner, sort of just staring at it. “Not really. It had some posters before we moved in. Ron gifted me some vinyl…you know before everything.” He explains. You’re not sure how to respond, so you just nod. “Some of the records have posters in them. If you want them.” He looks down at you and smiles a little. “No it’s alright you should have them.”

You’re so comfortable with him but also so awkward. You couldn’t explain it. “I think…I’ll give them to you. You can get them tonight. At dinner.” The way he says things makes them sound so set in stone. Like he’d planned this and it was a sure and definite plan. “Dinner?” You repeat. He sits beside you and nods, still taking in the empty space of your room. “My dad invited you and Paige for dinner. Since everything is settled down, he thinks it’d be nice to get to know you. Since you saved my life and all.” That’s true. You did save his life but regardless you didn’t think you were ready.

You shake your head. “N-No I don’t think I’m ready, I mean-” You put your hands out almost defensively which he sees as a good opportunity to comfort you. He takes your hands in his and closes them together, squeezing them together. “It’ll be okay. I’ll monitor my dad almost to know what and what not to ask. Besides he always liked your sister. You’ve started on the right foot.” You process what he says but also at the same time you’re equally focused on how warm his hands are.

You trust him, however.

─── ⋆⋅ ꒰ა 𐚁 ໒꒱ ⋅⋆ ───

That night you got ready in the nicest clothes Alexandria had to offer. Paige had left a couple minutes before you since you had some extra tasks to do before you left, but you were incredibly tempted to just ghost them. No pun intended. (get it? cause she’s the ghost in the woods—yeah ok.) You took one step off the stairs of your apartment and you turn to walk left to go to Carl’s house.

The walk there was almost hell. You overthought every scenario, every sentence you planned on saying, etc. It really was dreadful, you almost didn’t go. Until someone stopped you. Aaron. “Hey.” He stopped you from the porch of his house, you didn’t notice he’d been sitting there watching you contemplate going or not. Aaron knew you, he knew some of your interests and would bring you supplies when you lived in the woods.

“Oh.” You pause in your steps and let your hands fall away from each other, you hadn’t realized you’d been picking at your skin. “Hi.” You say shortly, not mentally prepared for the conversation. “I heard you’re scheduled for a dinner.” He tells you, almost smiling. Although he’s trying to contain it. “I just…I want you to know how often I looked for you. It seemed I was always looking in the wrong places. But I’m glad you came out of hiding.” You tilt your head a little at his explanation, something you sort of got from Carl. Although you watch him for a moment and realize how nervous he seems.

“I care about you. I understand that may be weird since you don’t even really know me…but I do.” You try to process his words, you didn’t quite realize what that felt like in the moment. All you can do in that moment is nod. “Thank you, Aaron.” You obviously have manners though. He gives a content smile and pats your shoulder. “Well don’t be so nervous. The Grimes family, well they’ve been through it all as you can tell. Michonne, well she’s a civil woman. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Except maybe Rick. He’s a bit aggressive. He punched me the first day we met.” He says in an amused tone, although that kind of makes your nerves spike.

You sort of give him a strange look. “Oh..he’s not gonna punch you or anything—you’ll be fine.” He smiles. Right, you’ll be fine. Plus Carl will be there.

Although when you got there and it came to knocking on the door you were frozen. Carl saw you approaching before you’d even got there so he opened the door regardless of whether you were ready or not. “Hey.” He seems so excited, he practically drags you inside. You hear a bit of commotion from the kitchen but Carl makes sure you’re okay first. He faces you directly and takes your hands in his. “It’s gonna be okay. They’re glad you’re here.” He explains, soon dragging you over to the kitchen. You see Michonne with Judith, just keeping her busy while your sister and Rick grab plates.

“Oh there you are. Thought you got lost.” Paige teases, drawing the attention of both Rick and Michonne. You sort of just stare, unsure of what to do. You’ve sort of met them before, when helping around you took instructions from them, but you’ve never spent real time with them. “We’re glad to have you.” Rick smiles and nods, something you’ve learnt is a Grimes thing. You remain silent. “Jesus say thank you or something. Did the apocalypse make you forget your manners?” Paige remarks.

“Right. Thank you. For inviting me.” Rick smiles a bit at your response, glancing back to Michonne who had the identical smirk on her face. It was so obvious how nervous you were. But that didn’t matter. It was dinner time now, you helped set the table with Paige and be for you knew it, you were sat down in awkward silence with the Grimes family.

You poked around your food and took bites, completely unaware of the fact that everyone was glancing your way every so often to see if you’d actually make eye contact with any of them. Which you didn’t. So, Michonne took initiative.

“Rick actually has something he wants to say to you.” She forces a smile and looks over to Rick who finds it amusing. You look up at him and he waits before explaining. “I know we didn’t really get off on the right foot.” He starts, Carl and Paige already know where this is going so they look at each other and smile. “I sorta…you know—”

“Threw her to the ground?” Michonne interrupts. He chuckles. “Yeah, I did. I guess I should apologize, but I need you to know where I was comin’ from.” He explains. But you already knew, therefore he didn’t need to say anything else. “That’s fine. I get it. A strange girl who lingered in the trees is a bit alarming. I don’t blame you. But you owe me.” You smile. You can hear the others giggle at your claim and Rick raises his eyebrows. “I owe you?” He says unserious. “You know what, you’re right. How can I pay you back?” He sets his fork down and rests his arms on the table to take you seriously.

“Well, when yanking me to the floor I fell back on a lot of my belongings. My walkman being one of them. It basically shattered and I’d like a new one.” You propose. Rick looks to Michonne who nods. “Sounds like a good deal. Her forgiveness for a walkman?” She says. Everything about this conversation seemed so playful to you. You knew they were being serious, but they were acting so official and it was funny. You were comfortable.

“Well I guess I should since you helped us. Not to mention you’re of great importance to my son over there.” He smiles. You look over to Carl who was already looking at you. Your sister would tell you later when you got home that he’d been staring at you this entire time. But anyway, back to your deal. You both shook on it and the dinner went on.

Real soon, you’d have your walkman back. With it, you’d get a mixtape from Carl.

Since he’d be the one you’d be using the walkman with.

a/n: yall gotta forgive me for being absent for so long IM SORRY MANNNN I AM I PROMISE look i just simply have been incredibly busy with school, being a senior is not for the weak trust <//3 also writers block has me in a chokehold BUT IM ON IT I PROMISE

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @smollbean42905 @deadgirlwalkingx @txrasbae @lalaloopsie12309 @crusadecherryblossom @violetashfall @zombiigrll @amanita-raine @prettylittlevampire12 @shadowybasementmiracle @junkyard-juno27 @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @sophiaatwdluver @baileebear @tabathastan @sstar-ggirl

[eunoiaastralwings]

Fragments of Blue

featuring Bucky x reader

fandom mcu- pre catcw

a/n based on my idea here - here part one (can be read alone too - I think LMAO).

warnings running away ? - idk if there was anything else tell me otherwise

You were simply lying on the on the couch bored when he came in again – with presuming a packet of bread in his hands.

You momentarily looked over the man that was once the deadly assassin – the one who had been assigned to bring you back to your father and his Hydra, every time you tried to escape or occasionally protect you.

He was always so anxious and nervous now – now you saw the real man being the Winter Soldier, trapped underneath Hydra’s torture who was finally free.

But the world didn’t see it like that however – the world still saw him as a murder and a true weapon of evil and you could almost see he saw himself like that too now.

Like he was signing the picture the outside world painted him as.

You always wondered why he came back for you – you were Alexander Pierce’s daughter after all. You were once even called as Hydra’s daughter by your father’s men.

But unlike your father you didn't want to be part of Hydra – but you were forced to know Hydra, including the Winter Soldier.

Little did you know, the blue-eyed man before you remembered as the Winter Soldier, he told to watch over you and made sure you didn't escape from Hydra like you tried countless times.

It was like you were something constant – something different than the usual assassinations he was tasked with.

You father was dead – yet you weren’t sure how to feel about that, he was your only family after all – though he did put Hydra above you.

Once the man was freed from the mind control and for whatever reason he had broken into your father’s house helped her escape and went on the run together.

You had known the moment he stepped in – he wasn’t Blue anymore.

He was the man behind those blue eyes again – still he seemed to be refusing to tell you his real name.

“So. . . you going to tell me your real name or do I keep calling you, Blue?” She asked – as he places the packet of bread on the small table in tiny rundown apartment you were sharing.

You had hated always calling him Soldat or the Winter Soldier, like your father and Hydra did - so you always stuck with calling him Blue, because of his blue eyes. He didn’t remember his own name - and no one would tell him or you either. . .and you wanted to make him feel just a little human. . .

He looked up giving you a once over – as if still debating inside him whether to trust you or not.

To be honest the only reason you were was because of him anyways.

You were almost certain he was going to brush you off again.

But then you heard a small mutter.

“Bucky. . .”

************************************************************************

You disguised yourself the best you could, wearing one of Bucky’s baseball caps – as you looked around the market stalls, trying to follow him.

You were always annoying him – that’s for sure. He had specifically instructed you to stay at the apartment but you clearly hadn't.

“Y/N you shouldn't be here. You’re not supposed to be out without my permission.”

He sounds annoyed.

“I deserve to at least see the sun, Bucky!”

You scowled at his behavior.

“I get it. . . But we can't let anyone find the either of us!”

He sighs.

“The only reason you’re not in the base is because it's me babysitting you.”

He mutters.

“You’re not babysi-“

You tripped over something because of your vintage heeled boots as you tried to follow – needing to hold onto Bucky in case you fell face flat on the ground.

You sighed – knowing he was gonna be mad.

“I told you not to wear those heels!”

He glared – now mad with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t exactly get to stop by at home to grab shoes before going on the run!”

You answered sarcastically.

“Don’t talk back to me. I’m only looking out for you. You really need to take more precautions!”

He warned.

You knew he was mad.

“I cannot go bare feet!”

You still stubbornly scowled –  knowing what he was picking at how you failed to escape multiple times during their time in Hydra and how he as the Winter Soldier always dragged her back kicking and screaming.

“Well, at the light’s still there, princess!

He grumbles and grabs you by the wrist. He pulls her along with a grumpy looking glare.

“We don’t have time for this. I have to keep you safe!”

He mutters, that was something he always said – but Bucky himself didn’t know why he was keeping you safe.

He didn’t know he came running to you – when he was freed from the mind control.

But here you were now.

You simply rolled your eyes and followed him to a farmers’ market.

He glances over at you.

“Why can’t you just listen to me for a change!”

Bucky sounded exhausted and anxious – he walks fast with you still holding your hand and you were trying to keep up with his pace.

Once again – stubborn as ever you didn't answer. The farmers’ market was large, with lots of stands and stalls, some selling fruit, spices/herbs, meat, or vegetables, others selling handmade crafts.

You easily got distracted with handmade crafts and toys.

Bucky looked – noticing how you got easily distracted, he just sighs an tries to not get annoyed.

He notices as your eyes were filled wonder, even glancing at your hair too.

You seem to have a soft, sweet face with the eyes of an angel.

“Why cant you just stay focused for once Y/N. . .”

He said – being a hypocrite as he found himself, getting distracted by you.

Before his eyes dart around nervously as they search for any threats. He seems on edge – always looking around as he looks for Hydra members or even agents.

He then went over to the fruit vendors – still keeping a close eye on you while spoke in Romanian trying buy a few plums for you and him.

You then picked up a little wooden carved wolf smiling at it as Bucky looks at the fruits.

Bucky glares at you – you smile and your beauty makes him stop and stare for a few moments.

“Y/N, put that down. We don't have time for that.”

He said – now coming back over to you.

“I told you we're on the run and we can’t risk letting the enemy find either of us.”

He whispers – now close enough only you could hear him.

You sighed, a small pout on your lips as you put back the carved wolf.

Then spots a grumpy unhappy looking plushie bear.

“Oh look! It's you!”

You said – picking up the blue grumpy looking plushie bear.

“Put that down you brat! We don’t have time for this!”

He looks at you – there was a look of annoyance and frustration.

Bucky was also nervous as he looks for any signs of a threat – and he glances at the plushie.

He thinks of it as a waste of time.

“I’m buying it!”

You said to Bucky.

“No, you aren't. Put it down. It’s a waste of good money!”

He tries to reach for the plushie to take it from you.

“It’s not wasting if I love it!”

You said – cradling it protectively close.

“It is also wasting since we’re on the run and it’s not the time for toys!”

He seems annoyed as he tries and snatch the plushie bear away from her.

 “Ooo, ok blue bear, I’m gonna call you Bucky!"

You hugged the plushie bear.

“Stop it you brat! You are so annoying!”

Bucky said annoyed – but he thinks you looked adorable.

Though it made him roll his eyes – when she insisted call a plushie by his name.

You just held it protectively close.

“Give it to me!”

Bucky tried to forcefully take it from you.

You held it protectively – “no!”

You scowled.

Bucky tried to take the plushie away, he grabs the plushie’s arm as he tries to force it away from you as you tried to protect it.

 “Give it here kid!”

“I’m 25, not a kid!”

You argued – though it seemed hilarious right now.

“You are acting like one.”

He glares at you – still holding onto the plushie’s arm as he refuses to give it to you.

“No!”

You said again.

It was then Bucky spots a few familiar looking agents up ahead behind her.

Bucky seems to pause – then glances again over at the agents, who are still unaware of their presence.

He looks back at you.

“We need to get out of here!”

He tries to move you in a direction, but you were still holding onto the stupid plushie.

You frowned looking behind yourself – your eyes widened and she froze seeing the familiar Hydra general blending in with the crowd in casual clothes as he and his men were seemingly looking for them.

Bucky grabs the plushie, tossing it aside – then grabs your hand and pulls you in a different direction.

He is now trying to act fast as he leads you away from the general and agents. He seems to be on edge as he eyes dart back and forth quickly trying to find a safe place.

"Just..."

You looked around then at Bucky – if the acted casual too blending in with the crowd, they wouldn’t be spotted.

"Blue, put your arm around me and pretend to laugh at something I said!"

You say seeing more agents – the former nickname you had for him slipping out in the mist of the situation.

Bucky has an annoyed look on his face – but he still decides to follow your plan for the moment – seeing how it made sense.

So he puts his arm around you and pretend to laugh at something you said.

“Heh. . .Heh, Heh heheh. . . Very funny. . .”

He said – and you almost had to stop from laughing out loudly yourself at how horrible that sounded.

So you simply rolled her eyes amused – seemingly their role-playing worked as the agents paid them no attention and walked past without noticing either of them.

“You need to work for on your acting skills though!”

You said – once they passed.

“I’m not an actor. I'm a super soldier, princess. . .”

He mutters – annoyed by your comment as he seems to be on edge – always looking around nervously.

“We’re still not safe. . .”

You rolled your eyes again at his former words – “anyways let’s go!”

Bucky was still seemingly on edge as he follows you.

He keeps looking behind him to see if they are still being followed.

His blue eyes were darting around nervously.

You had almost tripped onto the escalators – again because of your heeled boots.

Bucky scowling seeing almost trip again – but he still tries not to yell at you as he glares and sighs, shaking his head.

“You really need to get some new shoes, doll. . .”

He keeps his eyes darting around as he follows you.

You were going to answer – but her eyes widened as you saw a few agents taking the opposite side of the escalator – but you were crowded in you and couldn't move.

Bucky stops and freezes as he spots them too.

“Crap. . . We have to go.”

He tries pull you away in a different direction – his eyes dart around nervously as he looks for any escape routes.

The escalators were too close – you’d be spotted.

You looked around then suddenly said to Bucky – “kiss me!”

Bucky pauses and his eyes dart to you as he looks at you in disbelief.

He blinks in surprise.

 “What?”

He says confused – nervous, an unsure of what to do.

“Why?”

He says, seeming a bit skeptical of your plan.

“Physical displays of affection make people uncomfortable!”

You said blurt out – knowing the agents will look away seeing a couple kiss.

Bucky still seems unsure of it but he looks at you with the most serious expression.

He sighs and thinks about it for a second as he makes a hard decision.

“. . . Okay. . .”

He says as he slowly leans towards you to kiss you – he still has a annoyed look on his face but tries to relax.

He kisses you softly and he sighs.

He still feels annoyed about your plan – but he seems a bit relieved that they didn't get caught by the agents as he looks at you.

He’s still not sure if he likes you or not– j but he still seems to really enjoy the kiss.

You both then slowly pull away the moment the agents were out of sight.

But stops kissing you – the look of annoyance reappearing.

“You’re crazy.”

He sighs and rubs his face – “. . .I can’t believe I kissed you. . .”

“Oh please, it’s not I like just kissed Richard Madden or something!”

You grumbled sarcastically – as you reached the floor.

He looked at you with the same serious expression – but it quickly changes into a pissed off expression.

“. . .What? Richard, who?”

Bucky sounds agitated as he looks at you.

He’s not only annoyed by what you said – but the kiss. He tries to put the kiss out of his mind.

“Richard Madden. . .? The British actor. . .?” You said “You know the guy who played in Bodyguard or even prince charming in the live action Cinderella!”

“I don't care about no British actor we just kissed!”

He scoffs as he glances away angrily.

“. . .And?”

You ask – raising an eyebrow.

Bucky was shocked by your response as he looks at you in disbelief.

“You’re. . . You’re not embarrassed?”

He asks.

“Well. . . yes. . . but hey, it got us out of there!”

You said.

“. . .Right.”

He grumbles looks away as is pissed. He rubs his face in annoyance again and he just tries to forget about it.

“What?”

You ask – seeing the annoyed grumpy expression on his face.

“Nothing. . . Nothing at all. Just shut up and stop talking about Ricker Maddened.”

He grumbles – getting you both back out into streets again.

“Richard Madden.”

You corrected him.

“And – I don’t care.”

He grumbles under his breath.

You just rolled your eyes as he quickly pulled you back into the apartment – that kiss continuously replaying his mind. . .

He’d be lying if he said – the warmth of your lips against his didn’t feel good or made his heart race. . .

Perhaps, there was a reason why he came for you. . .

tagging everyone who was interested in the first part ( One more part then the story will be finished ):

@kiekiekiki @ijustneedpopcorn @geminigengar @batsyforyou </3

PART 1 | PART 2

And yes - I used references from catws xD

[pandorascripts]

I Bet You Think About Me

pairing: wednesday x reader

cw: angst, cheating, tyler galpin.

note: you should know that I made morticia and gomez the mean rich type of people to fit this.

summary: catering your ex-girlfriend’s wedding was certainly not what you wanted to do, but it proves to be fruitful as you get to say goodbye— and taunt her.

song: I Bet You Think About Me (feat. Chris Stapleton) (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault) by Taylor Swift ;).

proof read like once. I’m finding a lot of mistakes because I’m tired LMAO.

SEND IN REQUESTS BASED ON TS SONGS!

:—-:—- —-:—- —-:—- —-:—- —-:—- —-:—- —-:

It had been exactly three months since Wednesday had called off your relationship. She claimed you were too childish and that you were just too different from her— that you couldn’t fit into her world. Looking back on it now you can only laugh, the true reason why Wednesday broke up with you was because she was too scared of the consequences.

Despite what she claims and what others believe, Wednesday does care about what her family thinks. And her family, the richest and most powerful people in all of New York, had high expectations in who she would date. They certainly didn’t think (or even know) that Wednesday wanted to date someone below her status, below her age for that mater. Nine years wasn’t too bad, but her parents wanted Wednesday to be nine years younger than her rich, male lover. Unfortunately you didn’t fit any boxes where it mattered. 

But as you’re catering her wedding, watching Wednesday dance with her new husband, you really can’t help but chuckle. Wednesday’s been staring at you for the entire event, and you know damn well she’s been thinking about you. You see it in the way she eyes your work attire, — a tight, clad semi-formal suit— and in the way she frowns the moment her husband draws her attention away from you. It’s obvious. 

Buts it’s only until the service is almost over that she approaches you. 

“Hi.”

You look down to the glasses you’d been cleaning previously, trying to help out your friend with his own job. “Mrs. Galpin, is it?”

Wednesday scoffs, arms crossing over her chest. “Yeah, it is now.”

You nod, wiping a white cloth against the crystal glass of the cup. It’s almost as thick as the tension between you two. 

“Look, I want to tell you that I’ve moved on, and that I think it’s really immature of you to show up here.”

Your eyes widen drastically as you stare at Wednesday and her audacity. Grabbing her by the wrist, you drag her into the nearest storage closet so you can scream at her. She doesn’t stop you because she wont dare to make a scene with her filthy-rich family here. Her wrist in your hand brings up dead memories, memories long buried under sadness and anger. 

When the door clicks shut, you finally turn around to yell at her. “I’m doing my job, Wednesday. I didn’t have a choice because unlike you I can’t just wait until my trust fund opens. As you’ve made very, very, very, clear, I don’t have one!”

Wednesday rolls her eyes, her fingers adjusting the hem of her dress. “Just don’t cause anything. You and I both know that you were always dramatic.”

“Oh, I’m dramatic? You got engaged a week after we broke up to please your parents.”

“We were never going to work out! I like him! It wasn’t for my parents.”

“I don’t have to be one of your many shrinks to know you’ll never be happy with him. In fact,” you step closer to Wednesday, rage clouding the thoughts telling you to leave it be, “I bet you think about me.

“You’re out here marrying rich, handsome guys and trying to chase a status your parents want you to have, but I bet you’ve never felt so locked up in your life.”

Wednesday shudders, her cold gaze darting around your face.

“Why’s that?” she asks, still trying to act like she’s in power.

“Because you never felt more free than when you were with me.”

Wednesday gulps, her head whipping to the storage closet as she tries to not look at you. She fails, and proves your point beautifully. You shake your head, disbelief and disappointment the only thing you feel.

“Goodbye, Wednesday. Enjoy the wedding and let me do my job peacefully.”

Your hand retreats from the wall behind her, when they got there you can’t remember, and you turn around. Wednesdays hands reach out to grab your face before you have enough time to register what’s happening. 

Her lips are still just as soft as they were that night she left you. Her kisses are still sweet and passionate, always expressing what she can’t say through words. You sigh, forgetting about the wedding, about her parents, and about her husband waiting for another dance just beyond that door. 

It doesn’t take long until your fingers thread themselves in her dress and then you remember all of those things and more. You remember why she dumped you— why you have to let her go. You pull away harshly, taking a few quick steps back and sprint out the door. Wednesday doesn’t bother chasing after you. 

You run to your friend James, alerting him of your well-earned break that you decide to take. He nods, waving you off as you dart out of the venue. The early spring snow sets against the slush and you sigh. The cold grounds you, remembering the night three months prior. 

You shift on Wednesdays lap, laying your head on her shoulder. She’s reading in peace, a book her friend recommended, you recall. Her friend had claimed it had changed his view on life, and had told Wednesday it would do wonders for her. She was only reading it to poke fun at it. 

The movie in the background was long forgotten by you, your eyes instead lining her jawline and the soft curve of her nose. 

“Wednesday.”

“Yes?” she asks, flipping the page over. She doesn’t look at you, or even stop reading her book. 

You’ve been noticing this for the past two weeks now, her attention has been dwindling. Wednesday’s become more stressed and angry. Fights have been more frequent, at least two every other day. It’s always over minuscule stuff too, like how you dress, where you work, how Wednesday doesn’t like the way you hold your fork, or the way you laugh like a kid. You told her maybe it’s because you are one. After all, you’re twenty two and she’s thirty-one. Wednesday ignored you for hours that day. 

“Will you put the book down?”

“Why?” Again, no eye contact. 

“Because I want to have a real conversation.”

“We are.”

You scoff, swinging your feet off of her thighs and stand up, the book getting knocked to the floor. You don’t apologize despite her shouts, instead you grab your keys and shrug on your coat. 

“Where are you going?” she demands, hands trying to grab the keys out of your pocket. 

You swat her away and tie your shoelaces. “For a walk.”

“The hell you are! It’s eleven at night and December, it’s too late and too cold.”

You ignore her again, swinging the door open and skipping outside. Wednesday doesn’t follow you, but you don’t need to look back to know that. The door slamming tells you enough. 

That night when you got home, a clear head and a fresh apology with you, Wednesday called you childish. She told you that dating you was a mistake, that meeting you was one. And then her bag of belongings— you remember frowning over the fact that she only had an unpacked bag of stuff— was thrown into her corvette. 

It didn’t matter how much you clung to her, begging that she didn’t do this, she shrugged you off and left without so much as a glance back.

When your five minute break was over, you walked back into the wedding and continued working. Wednesday wasn’t anywhere to be seen for the rest of the night.

Maybe it wasn’t the goodbye you wanted, but it sure was a loud one. All you can hope is that Wednesday is tormented by what you once had, because at least you can certainly bet she thinks about you. 

[eggtrolls]

The Downton blogging (circa S3E5) will continue until morale improves

Ice in the veins, Kobe of the social scene — Mary Crawley would not, could physically not miss a chance to be ruthless to Edith. She sees Edith from 100 feet away and it’s On Sight. Edith standing in the churchyard about to be married and Mary is like listen we WILL NOT like each other a jot more in the future but good luck I guess. Sybil is lying DEAD on a bed in front of them and Edith is like 🥺 oh Mary 🥺 do you think we might get along a little better in the future? 🥺😭 and Mary just says “I doubt it”. She is a supervillain and I support women’s wrongs.

My favourite half-drowned bear cub of a man, Robert is like ‘no I can’t kick out my tenants who can’t farm and haven’t paid rent since the Norman invasion because they’re OLD wtf do you think I’m MEAN or something????’ and then he turns around and is like ‘but fuck Catholics for real tho lmao am I right or am I right, archbishop of banterbury’

The scene right after Edith gets left at the altar and Robert and Matthew go outside to talk about Reggie Swire’s fortune and the shot is them as tiny ants in the shadow of Downton’s walls…….that’s the shit I like

Cora saying goodbye to Sybil’s corpse with an insanely placid smile and her right (my left) eye twitching the entire time. Again the reminders of Iphigenia vis-a-vis a young woman dying in the house as a sacrifice, thus casting Cora being Clytemnestra which is just deeeeeeeelicious

The only part of Sybil’s death/mourning that actually made me feel some kind of way was Maggie Smith struggling alone with her cane in the hall……how many women has she seen die in childbirth over the last 70 years. Is it even surprising anymore? Does it hurt more or less?

Tom is still busy being fucking useless because he has no real purpose other than being a vague socialist life-size cardboard cut out to eventually be whittled down as a foil to Matthew who is himself being whittled down as a foil to Robert.

Also re: Tom and the Drumgoole house burning, WHY was he surprised by this being upsetting LET ALONE that it happened? He’s like omg I can’t believe I was upset by seeing rich people crying when their house burnt down, but the same fucking guy years ago canonically said nothing bad would happen to the Tsar and his family? Bro? Tf? Did you even do the readings of this shit you’re actively living through, while as a journalist to boot?????

Also also tremendously weak ass shit for him to answer Sybil’s “you didn’t tell me you’d gone to those meetings” with “I didn’t say I hadn’t”. “You didn’t tell me you were part of the Oklahoma City bombings”/“well I didn’t say I wasn’t” ass logic. unsurprising Tom L

Anna’s character is wearing so thin. She really has fuckall personality besides being pert, blonde, and vaguely saintlike while saying mihstehhhh Beyyyyyyyhtś every five minutes like a cuckoo clock

O’Brien playing the long game of slowly nudging Thomas and Jimmy towards each other, knowing it will get Thomas fired if not jailed, is a master class in scheming. Spy novels where the payoff is averting nuclear war are written with less attention to detail than this.

I need Thomas to get a mean lesbian best friend as a counterpoint to season 1 Miss O’Brien but since female sexuality wasn’t discovered in England until the 1970s it’s unlikely to happen :(

Mr Molesley as the permanent straight man of the show is maybe a little stale but it does crack me up every time. Sorry bro

The conversation around Downton as sentient being who kills those who don’t belong (Lavinia, and ultimately, Matthew) or who stray from the fold (Sybil) or those who endangered the Family (Kemal Pamuk) is still super interesting as the later seasons really let Edith hit her stride. It’s pretty clear that the flow of the Downton True Heir is set up as Violet to Robert to Mary but what if not. Mary is the bloodline (via Matthew) and has the money (also via Matthew) and the beauty* but Edith is the care and the maintenance that is completely ESSENTIAL to maintaining a house like Downton: in the little things of arranging seatings for dinners to keep the peace, to bigger things like helping with the Drake’s farm because the estate does boost the house, to her entire arc during S2 with the war. Mary as the roof and Edith as the walls…..let me cook

Lastly:

Okay hear me out but Vera Bates……..….would

*Edith isn’t even actually UNattactive, she just has the combo curse of Too Much Nose and Teeth. Mary’s features are roughly as pretty individually but much better proportioned for her face.

[kwop-kilawtley]

Bella’s depression months/suicidal tendencies/ hallucinations in New Moon are not “romantic,” sorry. It’s just horrible how traumatized she is. Imagine being a 17 y/o girl who never dated anyone and the first person you date is a mythical creature who essentially is the idea of perfection. It knocks down your self esteem even more, makes you feel embarrassed for not being enough and then after you almost died at the hands of others of his kind, he leaves. Leaves you for dead.

How is it romantic that she now sees no worth in her own humanity? That she deems life useless without him. Then Jacob comes along and makes her see life can be good again. She falls in love with Jacob naturally and effortlessly. If Edward and Bella were truly “fated” and “meant to be,” Bella wouldn’t be so in love with Jacob the way that she is. Jacob is the only person who truly understands her and he would do anything for her. He would protect her and keep her alive.

Bella choosing Edward is literally suicide and allows her to be stunted, to not fix her self esteem issues. Yet this is supposed to be romantic somehow?? The text literally leads you to believe that Bella will grow and get out of her depression with the help of Jacob. And he totally could have because she could’ve been open about the vampire secret since he knew about them too. It only makes sense in my mind she chose him. She actually has fun with him, he understands her personality better than Edward, understands her mind better than Edward. Their love is so intense that she even says she may have actually chosen Jacob if she hadn’t known what losing Edward felt like. She was so deeply traumatized by him leaving she couldn’t even bear the thought of having to heal. But she almost did. She could have.

The fact Bella cannot let Jacob go all throughout Eclipse even after Edward comes back is proof that she’s not fated to be with Edward. Literally no matter how many times I read these books I will never see it that way even though her narrative wants you to believe that in the end. Like sorry but having cutesy quotes and ogling over his physical perfection every second without there really being true reason behind it, just doesn’t hit for me. They were together for mere months and she’s already talking about “I want to be with you forever.” Like yeah that was me in high school too with the first person who ever gave me attention. I didn’t know any better tho. Now pair that with someone who literally hypnotizes humans lol.. yeah she didn’t stand a chance. Yet her lack of autonomy is romantic? Gross. She even says “it’s like Sam & Emily, I never had a choice.” How does anyone find this romantic LMAO.

If Bella had no feelings for Jacob and he had no good aspects of him and he wasn’t trying to keep Bella alive the whole goddamn time then no one would be for Jacob. But she literally is in love with him, it’s just not “magical” bullshit love. Which doesn’t even make sense for her btw. She doesn’t have any development whatsoever. Vampirism is just her bandaid and Jacob and the entire wolfpack are done dirty.

She tries to die and hear voices of her ex who abandoned her yet that’s romantic lmfao. New moon is legit based off of Romeo & Juliet, a tragedy where they both die. Bella & Edward simply shouldn’t have had a happy ending. Naturally it doesn’t make sense that they do, which is why breaking dawn is such a shit show. Because their relationship just doesn’t make sense and only harms them and everyone around them.

& before anyones like “it’s just a fantasy stop analyzing it wahh” no <3 these books shaped my way of viewing relationships as a teenager and it should be talked about how harmful some of the messages in the series are.

[ennard-is-near]

Fact checking Michael Afton’s Sister Location monologue

Key:

✅ Entirely or mostly true.

⚠️ True enough but with a technicality

❌ Almost entirely or entirely false

This speech is very funny to me, because it’s very cool but also what is he talking about? And who is he talking to? Like is he on the phone or…just yapping to himself? Anyway enjoy.

Father… ⚠️ He ends this speech with “I’m going to come find you.” So he’s obviously not face to face with William here. And he probably isn’t on the phone with him because there isn’t widespread cellphone usage so he’d need to call a landline? But this is definitely addressed to his father

It’s me, Michael. ✅ Yes it is.

I did it. I found it. ⚠️ Well… he found it in the way that he followed instructions on how to get there, but he was told where to go. He didn’t have to look. This is a place of business, other people work there too.

It was right where you said it would be. ✅ this line makes him “finding” the bunker a little silly, but he was given instructions on how to get there, why else would he say this

They were all there ❌ Evan is missing. So is Charlie.

They didn’t recognize me at first ⚠️ Baby does tell him that she doesn’t recognize him, but I am 100% convinced that she did so I’m marking it as a maybe. He’s not lying on purpose, I think he’s just dumb.

But then, they thought I was you…❌ Why does he think this? They don’t think that he’s William. Nobody ever says anything to suggest this at all. They clearly just are attacking people, they killed those two technicians also.

And I found her. ⚠️ Again, she was just there? You didn’t really. Like other people also knew where she was, she wasn’t hiding.

I put her back together, ❌ Lmao she put herself back together you were more of a vessel. You didn’t do shit, man.

just like you asked me to. ✅ I bet he did.

She’s free now. ✅ Yes she is. Running around in the sewers and living her best life.

But something is wrong with me, I should be dead. But I’m not. ✅ Also true. He is so gross now. Zombie ass.

I’ve been living in shadows. ✅ Lmao.

There is only one thing left for me to do now.⚠️ I mean yeah, like this is mostly true but he could probably do other stuff and I’m an asshole.

I’m going to come find you. ⚠️ Flagging this one because he doesn’t do a very good job. Took him 30 years and he didn’t even really do it, the guys at Fazbear’s Fright did. He was just there.

I love this speech so much. What is he on about??? I’m so serious. And I know I was an asshole with my technicalities but this is his one set of lines and they’re fucking silly. Also PJ Heyword (Michael’s VA. Though for some reason he’s credited as “Misc” or something in the actual game?? He voices Michael and William Afton, at least credit him with “Mr. Afton” and “Michael” because they’re both named in game as that) EATS this up. No crumbs. And his sad delivery of these lines and also his like laugh thing he does at some point are very cool. Boyfailurecore. But I think about this speech so much it’s started to not make sense to me anymore.

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Melisandre is one of my favorite minor POVs mostly because of how GRRM plays with the all-powerful mage trope. See the deconstruction with her is that despite her antics, she’s actually very powerful and all her visions are legit. It’s just that she absolutely sucks at interpreting said visions, mostly because she has all these preconceived notions and is very stubborn about them. And even when the answer is staring right at her (literally), she just doubles down. And it can be very frustrating as a reader, to be quite honest.

Like she’s been super gung ho about Stannis Baratheon being Azor Ahai/the Prince that Was Promised, though only R’hllor know why, to the extent that she will flat-out ignore any evidence to the contrary. Her visions in ADWD essentially scream that Azor Ahai is someone different (not Stannis!) but good ol’ Mel just won’t budge.

There’s this very hilarious interaction in Jon’s 10th ADWD chapter that essentially spells out all of her problems with visions and prophecy, with Jon serving as the reader’s proxy in some ways.

This interaction happens during Alys Karstark’s wedding feast and Patchface drops some of his weird jingles, which Mel very unsettled by. So she’s turns to Jon and is like, “ugh that dude is so creepy, all my visions tell me so”. And Jon’s reaction to this is super funny, because he’s like:

“You see fools in your fire, but no hint of Stannis?”

Wow Jon lmao

He just had to call her out like that, unprovoked. But his frustration makes sense. He’s constantly been asking about Stannis’ whereabouts but Mel’s responses just aren’t very satisfactory (in his opinion).

Then we get this next line which really just says everything about Mel’s stubbornness and perfectly embodies the deconstruction of the all-powerful seer trope.

“When I search for him all I see is snow.”

So Mel looks for Stannis, whom she believes to be Azor Ahai, in her fires but doesn’t find him. Instead she sees “snow”. And this part tracks with her POV too. We know from her chapter that she constantly sees Jon in her visions. It’s how we get the very interesting “I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R’hllor shows me only Snow” line.

So one would think that Mel might go: “Hmmm I look for the prophesied savior, but I don’t see Stannis. Instead, I only see Snow. I don’t doubt R’hllor’s power so if my visions are true, then maybe I need to rethink a few things”.

One would think…

But nope!

And Jon’s like “Hey maybe you’re not seeing Stannis because he’s super dead, ever think about that Mel?” And she proceeds to spout the usual Azor Ahai stuff and even mentions Dragonstone:

“When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. Dragonstone is the place of smoke and salt.”

To which Jon’s replies, “uhhhh news flash Stannis was not born on Dragonstone so that doesn’t track”.

Obviously this is Jon’s skepticism but I like to think that he took the reader’s place here. Because many of us have asked ourselves, why oh why would Mel think of Stannis just because she saw Dragonstone? Like yeah, he’s the Lord of Dragonstone but he wasn’t born there. It’s quite a valid question and how does Mel counter it? She doubles down and twist herself into a pretzel to make Stannis fit (even though he doesn’t fit at all!)

Really, Jon’s reaction is essentially what would happen if someone dropped me into the world of ASOIAF and gave me the chance to meet Mel and ask her a few questions. I’d be quite frustrated, just as Jon is here. And to be fair, the reader has a lot of auxiliary information (e.g., Jon’s parentage) that Mel doesn’t have.

But then the next few lines really illustrate just why poor Mel can be so frustrating. Because Jon’s follow up is,

“And what of Mance? Is he lost as well? What do your fires show?”

And what does Mel say?

“The same, I fear. Only snow.”

…??!

Mel!😭

Seriously, I cannot! This is the exact same situation as with Stannis. She looks for a king but only sees Snow. This makes me wonder then, based on previous wording, if she’s specifically looking for “the King Beyond the Wall” (not just “Mance”) and only seeing Snow - at this point, Jon has all but supplanted Mance.

So once again, one would think that Mel would go: hmmmm I look for the King Beyond the Wall but I see Jon Snow and not Mance Rayder. Seeing that Mance’s power has been diminished and Jon Snow is now taking control of the wildlings, maybe I should re-evaluate a few things”.

Yeah, one would think…

Homegirl is trying her best, she really is. But sadly, her best can only get E for Effort.

And at this point the reader is just done with Mel, and Jon is too:

“You are seeing cinders dancing in the updraft.”

He doesn’t even bother to phase it as a question lmao. He just calls her out and doesn’t care.

And we’re in his POV so he’s thinking of the lower case “snow”. Also, why in the hell is Mel referring to Jon like this?

Anyway, this is why I think Jon serves as the reader’s proxy in this conversation because it’s like a thinking exercise (facilitated by the narrative) that ultimately goes nowhere because Mel is so, so stubborn.

Because if we really break it down:

R’hllor/the Narrative: Who do you see when you search for the king/Azor Ahai?

Mel: Jon Snow

R’hllor/the Narrative: Ok…and who do you see when you search for the King Beyond the Wall?

Mel: Erm, Jon Snow…

R’hllor/the Narrative/the Reader: Great! So say it with me. The king you’re looking for is J-

Mel: STANNIS BARATHEON!

R’hllor/the Reader: …?!

And before anyone claims that this is a misdirect, Mel really is seeing Jon Snow. Straight from the horse’s mouth:

“I am seeing skulls. And you. I see your face every time I look into the flames.”

Friend….I don’t even know what to say anymore…

[discotitsposts]

true genius-

my actual favorite episode ever ever ever I’m SO INSANE FOR THIS EPIDODE

this is like the first one o watched on my own ITS SO GOOD

reid centered so yayy

this is how i fell in love w him

spoilers ahead

YAYYYYY NOSTALGIA!!!!!!!

lol typical making out in a car

DID I MENTION THISBIS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE EPISODE

FINN WITTROCK IS IN THIS TOO

the zodiac killer case is so interesting like wym dude never got caught

A FETISH FOR TREES

POOR BABY IS SO NERVOUS

ITS HIS BJRTBDAY IN THIS EP TOO

the cOUGHING

“yes a fetish for trees” HES SO AWKWARD I LOVE YOU REID

no he LEAVES NOOO

lol this guy runs a company

The way if reid was at a conference i’d run and be listening to every word

awww reid’s sad :(

rossi lol “no way” yes way

this is so interesting like how did bro get the original artifacts from the real case (i know how he did it)

reid reid reid!!!!

imagine if spencer knew how many people love him and write fanfic about him LMAO

he’d be a little terrified let’s be honest

but just a little

UGH EVERYONES SO HOT

“three can keep a secret if two are dead” i thought this was criminal minds not pretty little liars

i can’t even tell you how many times i’ve seen this episode

like this is MY episode i claim this one lol

CHESS YOUNKNOW WHO ELSE LIKES CHESS

SPENCER

bros playing chess on break

SPENCERRRRRR

lol enlightening

he wants the printed out version of the paper 💞💞

the way spencer just knew this wasn’t the real zodiac killer is why i was like this guys great 💞💞💞 my heart

AHHHHHHAHEJDJWBEWJWIROSOWBDBEKENFNF

IM SO EXCITED TI BE WATCHING THIS ONE

it’s so funny because i’ll be watching this show and this is my view

the barbie’s r like wtf

THIS GUY LYING ABOUT HIS COUISN

lol reid ended this guy

LOL

LUCKILY I GUESS ITS NOT YOUR COUSIN AHAHAH ATE

FINN WITTROCK💞💞

LOL his presentation

“your soulmate is standing before you now” is he talking about the lady or himself

i remember originally watching this because finn wittrock but fell for spencer/matthew instead lol

i like this detective from the local pd

“where do people find the time” lol reid

dr spencer reid i love your mind

“youre not as smart as you think you are” 😫😫😫💞💞💞SIR IM STUPID FOR YOU 💞💞💞

REID IN PURPLEEEEEE

OMG HES STANDING IN THE SUNLUGHT

y’all have to see this

UGHHHH💞🕳️🕳️🕳️💞💞💞

profile!!

REID AT THE COFFE SHOP STOEOEJDWH

dude has a detective board

lol he thinks she wants to call off the wedding

bro she doesn’t want you

REID NO YOUVE PASSED EXPECTSTIONS YOURE PERFECT I LOVE YOU

“How old are you 29,”

“I’m 30” NOOOOOOOOOOO

nikola tesla my beloved

emily lol

doesn’t he accidentally see a pattern lol dudes so smart

emily’s little smile lol

for he

god he’s so smart

the problem is i think i could understand the code and idk my iq but it’s prob not 160 or above

how do u even calculate that shit

reid’s face is perfect

the taxi driver, didn’t he kidnap the best friends wife from the back of the cab

i don’t think i made this very clear but this is my favorite episode EVER

i’m gonna fucking bite spencer if he keeps being so adorable

finn ain’t no angel in this

vegas!! matthew’s hometown

REID IN THE BACKGROUND

heTALKSK SO FAST I LOVENIT SM

mY leg itcjes

i also would like to catch the zodiac

REID ON THE FHAIR

staring at nothing

HAHAH

best friend activities

REIDS HANDS MOVE SO FAST

i need him now

aDmiT iT yOure HaVing FuUuN

i literally can’t get cozy

A CHESS SWUARE

listening to him💞 💋

no matches

doesn’t he plant a piece of evidence

yep

they found him

o love when reid comes up behind him

bro kidnapped his future wife

UEAH THEY KILLED SOMEONE OMG

it’s spencer reid’s world we’re just living in it

bro said “sanctimonious” wtf does that mean

“not really” 💞💞💞💞💞

the vest 😫😫💞💞

i don’t think harvey here is going to shanghai anymore he going to jail

SULPHURIC ACID dude that’s insane

LOL REID “i’m sure he’ll send you a postcard”

AWWW REID AND HIS COFFEE

THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

spencer reid you’ve made the biggest difference in my life 💘💘💘

AWWWWWW HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPENCER

lol morgan the way he’s in his 40s now😭

awww him blowing out the candles he looks so happy

the end

MY FAVORITE EPISODE MWAH MY BELOVED 💋💋💋💋

[fanfenomenon]

i think shaytham should get married

do you guys remember that one scene in ac3 where haytham puts the templar ring on lee’s finger when he was welcomed into the order? yeah?

now can we talk about how the devs ROBBED us of potential shaytham scenes where haytham does the same thing but with shay…

IM SO EMOTIONAL ABOUT THIS BECAUSE WHAT IF instead of haytham welcoming shay into the order in front of the other members, they’d do the ceremony in private instead?

iirc, when haytham was first seen in ac rogue, it was already during shay’s ceremony. i always thought it would’ve been better if their first encounter was during a mission, not the other way around like with the actual game where it was after the ceremony haytham started going on missions with shay.

and during those missions, they would’ve gotten to know more about each other, and it would be during these missions their relationship develops.

the more time they spend with each other, the more they had grown fond of the other’s company. haytham would always be willing to listen to shay’s stories, especially during his time with the assassins. shay thinks that by sharing these stories, he’s helping haytham gain more information about his former alliances. yes, but not really, since haytham just likes to listen to shay talk. hes down bad like that and shay is kind of oblivious to it lol

during fights, shay would admire the elegance and technique in haytham’s attacks. how gracefully he wields his sword and stealthily moves across enemy territories. haytham would catch shay staring sometimes, which makes the latter flustered when the former comments on it.

they’d subtly flirt with one another later on, with haytham mostly doing the flirting lmao.

“quit staring. do i really look that good to you?”

“no one expects you to be the perfect grandmaster all the time.”

“you think im perfect?”

shay used to hesitate when it comes to replying to haytham’s flirtatious comments and innuendos, and it took time for him to later become more comfortable with the other man. sometimes he’d catch haytham staring at his figure when he takes off or changes his tunic,

“like what you see?”

and boy was it a sight for shay to see haytham all flustered.

once the missions are finished, haytham realizes it’s time for shay to join their order. he has proven himself worthy of upholding its ideals, but haytham would be lying if he said that was the only reason he wanted shay to join the templars.

he wanted to be with him. always… and forever, if fate allows.

one day, shay visits haytham in his personal estate. at first he would only go there to report on various situations regarding the assassins and templars. but he later would visit more often for no particular reason. shay just likes haytham’s company, but he would never admit that to himself and especially to his boss. haytham didn’t mind his visiting though, in fact he enjoyed the other man’s company as well, not that he’d admit to it too.

haytham greets him, and he thought it the perfect time to perform the ceremony. it was the dead of the night though, and he wasn’t able to inform the other members of shay’s initiation beforehand.

it didn’t matter though. as long as shay was here beside him, everything will be alright.

haytham gently takes shay’s hand, which slightly startled the younger man. the way haytham took the latter’s hand was so gentle, and so unlike him.

“do you swear to uphold the principles of our order, and all that for which we stand?”

only now did shay realize what was happening.

“…i do.”

“and never to share our secrets nor divulge the true nature of our work?”

“i do.”

“and to do so now, until death. whatever the cost?”

“i do.”

haytham softly squeezes shay’s hand, his lips slightly quivering, as if there was more he wanted to say.

“…and…”

shay furrows his brows, he could hear the older man’s slight tremble in his words. worrying, he clasps his other hand onto haytham’s.

“do you swear… to… to pledge your loyalty to your grandmaster, and… to love and cherish him the way he does for you…”

shay stands still, shocked at the words that came out from haytham’s mouth. was this a confession? he doesn’t remember the last sentence being part of the initiation. haytham was looking down at this point, clearly embarrassed at what he had just said a few seconds ago. shay tries to calm himself, but he couldn’t find his words. instead, he brings haytham’s hand to his lips, kisses it and finally replies,

“i do…”

haytham quickly looks up at shay, whose expression was not of shock anymore, but of fondness. he takes a templar ring out of his coat and slides the ring into shay’s finger,

“…then, we welcome you into our fold, brother. you are now a templar, harbinger of a new world.”

shay looks down at his finger, the gleam of the silver ring shining in the dim room. he looks at haytham again, and he couldn’t stop himself from cupping his cheek. haytham didn’t reject it though, he leaned into shay’s touch, bringing his own hand to hold the other’s.

“…and i suppose now the grandmaster will not be dejected to the idea of my being his lover?”

haytham chuckles and leans in to kiss shay’s cheek.

“i suppose not.”

[yonemurishiroku]

Jason died cause he boring. He literally an all American boy someone who would have been popular in the 90s. Compare all main characters first chapter to Jason and you can tell he bland like white bread. Jason lacks the popularity of Percy cause if Percy was dead expect a riot plus we already had a better Zeus contrast with Thalia. Apollo is the more interesting character and Apollo son is a better contrast to Nico. Had he not had a GF maybe he could have been Nico love interest but Rick decided on Nico being gay extremely late he said it himself and what does it look like having a guy break up with his GF (poc) to be with Nico(white emo kid) in a kid series. Will was convenient no weird background no known relationship and the complete opposite to Nico and people get mad but it work you don’t get a solo book if the fanbase wasn’t big. The

There’re so many points at once in this ask and I don’t think I’m comprehending them right so I guess I’ll just post my reactions upon reading this.

- Jason’s bland like a white bread -> Good news! I like white bread. I think white bread is a perfect canvas to add all of your favorite toppings to make the best meal for you. ☺️😋😋

So if Rick really did kill Jason only bc he’s bland then he’s a coward solely bc he can’t figure out what color to put on Jason’s canvas.

- Apollo’s son is a better contrast to Nico -> This is subjective so I’ll leave it for any day. Though it got me thinking. Why, exactly, should the contrast matter?

Because fun fact! Jason and Nico have many working parallels that can be great materials for relationship development. Ask a random Jasico fanfic writers and they’ll give a thesis.

On the other hand, to be honest?, we already have Percabeth as the opposites-attract/bantering/significant annoyance trope. I ngl can do without another similar one. 🤷‍♀️

- Err i’m not American so I don’t think I’m in any position to talk about the poc girl vs white emo boy thing but if anything, I find it’s valid. Smh shame

Edit: Haise pointed out that Nico is not white, he’s Venetian and has olive skin. I honestly don’t know what it makes this…

- You don’t get a solo book if the fanbase isn’t big enough -> This is undeniably true.

HOWEVER

Pal. My friend. Mate. Listen. Just wait until I show you how many people absolutely despite the existence that is TSATS——

I’m all for letting people enjoy things. Though, if you ask me - me, who came to PJO solely for Solangelo and binge read TSATS in like 2 nights and cried a river on my pillow, I would say TSATS is Rick’s poor attempt of:

1/ milking the franchise (which is understandable. Capitalism you know bla bla bla)

2/ giving a half-heartedly made closure to the fandom’s favorite (which is sort of fanservice? Idk)

3/ and along with it solidifying the foundation of his gay love story, which didn’t have the… err prettiest start? (which I reckon accounts for a lot of the franchise’s popularity).

And yeah it’s easy to see that Nico being gay is a late decision with how Rick worked it out lmao.