#I’m putting this in the queue so that it will randomly come out from the universe to someone who needs it

[finniestoncrane]

loving everyone and manifesting a nice day. you WILL see a cool bug at a distance you are comfortable with. you WILL get to step on a crunchy leaf. you WILL touch a neat and appealing texture. you WILL hear a sound that gives your brain the good fuzzies

[lo1k-diamonds]

Unique 💜 Part 3

I'll regret this for the rest of my life.

PAIRING: idol!Namjoon x OFC

SUMMARY: Namjoon dreamt of going against the rules and meeting the one lover he couldn’t forget, but things have changed.

WORD COUNT: 11.7 k

GENRE: old lovers to ?

RATING: PG-13

WARNINGS: alcohol, getting drunk, fighting, heartbreak, angst, bittersweet

A.N. As promised, after editing/posting parts 1 and 2, here is part 3 💜 I really love it, every angsty bit 💜 Thank you @moonleeai for the beta read, amazing as always, and @eerieedits for the banner 💜 This part will also be an entry for the @bangtanwritershq upcoming event ‘Home Is Where The Heart Is’ 🤧

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | < Previous Part | Next Part >

“Wait,” Angie asked, putting the phone down to grab her small yellow luggage. She smiled and waved goodbye at the taxi driver, “Thank you.” 

Then she turned to face the two-story window-covered building, brushed her long blonde hair out of her eyes, and pulled the retractable handle out to drag her luggage along. 

“What did you say?”

“I asked if you can meet tomorrow?!” Hyejin sounded excited over the phone, with a high-pitched tone that, unfortunately, was difficult to hear over the airport background noise, even as Angie pressed the phone to her ear. “Where are you?! Why is it so loud?!”

“I’m at the airport,” she told her best friend, calmly dodging people on her way to get inside. 

She didn’t imagine there would be such a rush on a Friday afternoon, but she should know that it was one of the busiest airports in the world. She could already see the glass sliding doors opening into a yellow neon sign.

LAS VEGAS

Hyejin screeched. “You’re leaving?!”

“To go home, actually.” She sighed. “Had to come and replace a colleague at the last minute at a seminar. Are you already in Boston?”

“No! I told you I was going to a concert in Vegas before meeting you!”

Angie’s eyebrows jumped as she staggered. “You’re in Vegas, too?”

Hyejin gasped audibly. “You’re in Vegas?!”

“Yeah!”

“We can meet early!! And then go together tomorrow or something!”

Angie heard the bickering from people behind her who were annoyed that she had stopped in the middle of the way, and she excused herself quickly.

Angie walked to the side, near a huge circular pillar holding the information sign for the drop-off and pick-up area. “But I have a ticket.”

“So?”

“Prepaid by the university—”

“Don’t even! What are the chances that we’d be together in Vegas again?” Hyejin suddenly gasped. “And you could come to their concert!!” 

Angie hesitated, looking around as she brushed her hair behind her ear as if anyone else could judge her for the thoughts she was having. She knew what concert Hyejin was talking about. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea…”

“Are you kidding me?! This is like a sign! It’s perfect!”

“But I don’t have a ticket…”

“I’ll get on it. Listen, grab a taxi to my hotel so you can drop off your bags, and then we’ll go together! And stop arguing; I’m not taking no for an answer! It’s an extra night we can be together, and you’ll get to see an old friend! Where’s the harm in that?”

Angie rubbed her eyes as Hyejin ranted uninterruptedly in her ear. Her logic was flawless, and the temptation to do as she suggested was hard to resist. It was as though fate had planned a trap, setting her up when she least expected to have her life turned upside down.

“Angie?”

“Yeah,” she said before she could stop herself, then she sighed and closed her eyes. “It can’t hurt.”

Angie had never seen the Allegiant Stadium in such disarray. As the car took her and Hyejin closer, she feared they’d hit or be hit by one of the many concertgoers crossing the street randomly, or someone just jumping across queues, or a kid suddenly losing the hand of their parents.

Fortunately, the car moved safely through the crowd of people lining up to get inside and see the show. Finally, it took a turn into the underground parking that required credentials to have access despite the manager having phoned ahead. As she understood it from Hyejin’s explanations, the manager with them was in contact with the team organizing the event and could get them easily in like this. It was all very strange for Angie, who was used to being in line to watch a concert, not entering through a backdoor, but Hyejin was at ease.

She was ecstatic about their chance phone call, which ended up with them attending the concert together. Hyejin went on about how she had arrived earlier that day and was hoping to get a kiss before going to Boston to meet Angie, and the latter stayed quiet. She had tried to ignore the banners and publicity outside of the stadium advertising the amazing concert about to take place, but it was becoming impossible. The typical warm April weather was getting to her, making her sweat more than she would have liked as she braced herself.

They were escorted to the lowest part of the first-level balcony, which had an exclusive area with black sofas with enough space to comfortably seat four. The lounges were mostly occupied except for one at the half length of the stage set, and it turned out to be for them. 

“You might not believe me, but I haven’t seen a show of theirs in years!”

Hyejin huffed out of frustration but instantly grinned happily, turning to eye the big screen on the stage with the concert’s poster. It was pretty and colorful, with the guys displayed on a small stage, either sitting on speakers or standing, heartily welcoming all attendees. Hyejin’s eyes were instantly drawn to the one she longed to see the most, with his sweet kitty cat smile and relaxed pose, but she guessed that Angie’s would be glued to the member next to him. She glanced at her best friend and smiled; she was right. She found it amusing that Angie was staring at Namjoon sitting comfortably on a speaker with the most laidback smile. Maybe seeing him after so long was shocking, although she would have imagined it wouldn’t matter that much.

Angie inadvertently confirmed Hyejin’s assumptions by turning her back on the stage and enthusiastically catching up in the hour that led to the concert. Angie had heard all about Hyejin’s divorce from Nomin and how her relationship with Yoongi had developed, but it was always different to talk about it in person.

The night settled as the venue got stacked with fans. Meanwhile, the two women had a drink and snacks and waited comfortably. Angie wasn't pretending to be alright or disinterested in what was about to happen; she simply didn’t know how to feel, react, or breathe properly. Only one thought occurred to her when the music on the speakers stopped and the lights went out: she’d see him, but he wouldn’t see her. It stung her chest, but maybe it was for the best.

A video started playing on the screen, showing the seven members wearing white and sitting around a table in what could be an interrogation room. While Hyejin was cheering along with the crowd, Angie was at a loss. Then the first photo showed — the first member to be introduced was Namjoon, and her breath caught. That was really happening. All those people were cheering his damn sexy photo, which was a mugshot, on a giant screen because they were excited to finally see him. They kept screaming as the screen showed the other members, but to her, that settled it — she and Namjoon were really in the same place at the same time.

The screen lifted, and a cage appeared, with Namjoon being the first to be shown on the screen. He was posing, of course, and his image blurred as her eyes teared up. Hyejin cheered and grabbed her hand with a grin, which made Angie smile back and swallow her emotions. She shouldn’t get too caught up; it was just a performance. He wouldn’t see her.

It was like a dream, the whole thing. It couldn’t have been a movie, despite the screen, because the sound shaking her ribcage, the blinding lights, and the smell of the fire, smoke, and other effects were real. More than that, her eyes were glued on a familiar body moving and jumping around with an enviable energy. He looked taller and more buff than usual, with short, light brown hair that suited him perfectly.

After a few songs, she looked around at how the crowd was getting crazy with their greetings, and she just chuckled. Tonight, she was just one of the many others who also wanted his arms wrapped around her tightly, but that wouldn’t happen.

There was only a single moment she thought that might change. It was halfway through the concert when the guys split the team in half and got on a raised platform on a vehicle to go around the stage during a song. Her eyes widened a lot when the first group that passed by her and Hyejin waved from so close, Angie could see the beads of sweat running down their faces. That made her question whether the guys could actually see them from that close. This was not a silly thought because Hyejin was cheering and waving next to Angie, and Yoongi smiled and waved back. Hyejin didn’t make a big deal out of it — or at least her smile didn’t grow any bigger, probably because it wasn’t possible — but it did raise a question for Angie: would Namjoon see her?

The guys switched carts in the middle of the stadium so they could wave at the whole venue, and Angie’s heart rate spiked. She waited with bated breath as if it was a dream as the station moved, and everyone around her screamed and jumped in excitement. Hyejin waved just as excitedly, though with the advantage that the guys were her friends and knew she was there, but Angie didn’t move. She stood there, and in three seconds, it was over — he was singing and cheering along to that upbeat song with the others, and then he waved, and for a split second, she could swear he paused. But maybe she was imagining things. Time surely stopped for her, but it was just her attempt at freezing that moment. At taking in every possible detail of how he looked, how he was, how he existed, so the memories could sting her beating heart even deeper.

I don’t regret it. Anything. Being with you, loving you. No matter how much I’ll miss you.

His intimate voice echoed inside her head, and her eyes filled with tears instantaneously. She trembled as they dropped down her cheeks. 

If time is absolute and only goes forward, then regretting is meaningless. But looking forward… we might still do something good.

She hid her cry, turning away from the stage. Maybe she had been cold with her reply, trying to fix his breaking heart instead of screaming how much she loved him too. Still, she remembered cradling his cheeks, looking into his bloodshot eyes when he spoke as if he had read her mind.

There could still be a future in which we will see each other again.

A hand on her shoulder had her quickly cleaning her cheeks and turning with a forced smile. Hyejin didn’t need to ask; she just hugged her best friend firmly. Angie squeezed her back, taking her strength to find her footing. Yes, their time aligned again. But what did that mean?

That question stayed on her mind for the remainder of the show, sinking deeper into her gut when, during a pause to communicate with the public, Namjoon said, “There’s a saying, It Ain't Over 'til It's Over.”

Her chin trembled, and she wondered. It was over. They decided that, didn’t they? They decided, had their dream, and moved on. That was what they set out to do– and did, right? But their timelines were intersecting again. Could that mean something?

She had her answer when, during BTS’ goodbyes, Namjoon told the audience with tearful eyes, “You guys are my miracle. I love you so much.”

Her breath shook, aided by the intense screams felt all around the stadium, and she got it. They were his miracle, that life was his call. 

My body, my time, my dedication… It belongs to something bigger than myself.

She had always known. They were a chapter, nothing more. His heart would always be there, with everyone.

She watched the rest of the show with a small smile — he was the happiest in his element, living life to the fullest. That was all that mattered.

Namjoon could barely see straight. He could still hear the cheers from the audience as the stage crew led him and the others through the narrow corridor to get to the back safely. They got water handed to them as the medical team eyed them, on standby, just in case, but Namjoon raced ahead. His heart was thumping rapidly; he was exhausted but pumped, and despite his narrowing vision as the exhaustion took hold, he had to ask Yoongi if he had seen her, too.

They entered a back room where they were invited to sit down and remove the microphones, hearing pieces, and any accessories or clothing that weren’t comfortable, and Namjoon finally locked on his target.

“Did you see them?”

Yoongi was sitting on a couch near Jimin, both men taking off their boots as they grumbled that something was wrong with them.

“Who?” Yoongi asked, a bit winded. He was catching his breath, the same as everyone.

“Namjoon-ssi,” someone called, and Namjoon turned. It was one of their production managers. “Maybe you should sit? You look very pale.”

“Hyung,” Jimin called, waving at a chair next to him, and Namjoon obliged just to get them all off his back.

He tapped his foot as he drank water to appease the staff. Then, he leaned forward to speak closer to Yoongi on the other end of the couch. “Did you see Hyejin?”

Yoongi sighed, finally free from the wretched tight boots. “Yeah. You knew she was coming.”

“Yes, but did you see—”

“Guys!”

He clenched his jaw as their tour manager joined them with nothing but praises. He saw how everyone was happy with a good performance, except Jungkook, who was whining about a mistake he had made. The maknae asked for the footage to confirm how terrible it had been, but the tour manager swiftly denied him.

“You need to get to the lounge upstairs, have refreshments and snacks, take some photos for social media, and then maybe.” Namjoon saw Jungkook trying to hide his sigh, but everyone saw it. “Maybe after dinner? Or even tomorrow. Let’s give the video crew time to get the footage, hmm?”

That was enough for Jungkook not to insist and for the other members to get up. Yoongi and Jimin had gotten sneakers in the meantime and were ready to go. Namjoon followed after them quietly, playing with a hangnail on his thumb.

They made their way through the underground corridors to reach the elevator, but as the managers and assistants were with them, Namjoon didn’t ask Yoongi again. He didn’t talk; he just reviewed that moment over and over. He noticed Hyejin because Hoseok had given him a heads-up right before they reached the spot, pointing at the balcony. So he looked up, expecting to smile and wave at a childhood friend, but paused. A familiar blonde was next to a cheerful Hyejin, just standing and holding the railing, looking at him. The car kept moving, and in a second, he couldn’t find them anymore. It was too hard and chaotic, and someone pulled him to keep waving, maybe Jimin, and he had to continue the show.

But now that he thought back, he knew he wasn’t imagining things. He wouldn’t have pictured her with grown curtain bangs and longer hair in general; he would have pictured her as he saw her the last time, at the airport, one year before. He would have pictured her smiling for sure, not— Not that anxious expression. Because it was, right? He wasn’t imagining things!

The elevator was taking them up, but his thoughts were already elsewhere. 

Angie. 

He closed his eyes.

I can’t help thinking that I’ll just get addicted to you.

Goosebumps puckered his skin up his arms at the memory of her confession, and he brushed them absentmindedly. He didn’t know back then how true those words would become, at least for him. He chuckled at himself; how naive. 

Would you do it again? Steal my thoughts away so that I can only feel you?

Her request still made his heart thump louder. He should have known that nothing, and no one could have felt like her. He knew it after being with her the first time and had it ingrained in his heart during their second time together. 

The group reached the luxury lounge, where they had taken photos and had interviews before the show, and leisurely distributed themselves across the taupe sofas. He smiled and nodded along to the conversation, but his head was elsewhere.

At that time, he thought that Angie was the only one for him. Although they knew from the start that it would end, the memory of her and the hope to cross paths again had fueled him endlessly. He didn’t know if they could meet again, but he wanted to make it happen as soon as they were done with the tour.

He could still remember her anxious voice as her glistening eyes bore into his, their bodies tangled together in bed. I want you to stay. Be the person I was searching for and found, not the one I have to let go.

He was both. They knew it, he knew it, but he had been feeling hopeful. And brave, all because of her. He didn’t know what he was doing, but her darling eyes as she told him sweetly, You can always kiss me, Namjoon, were enough.

He wanted that again. He had been dreaming about that for a long time. Suddenly, he recalled that Hyejin had mentioned flying to Boston after meeting them in Las Vegas, so he considered if that was why he was picturing Angie. She was so far but finally within reach. 

He eyed the tour manager in the corner of the room on a phone call; maybe Namjoon could find a moment to fly to Boston and see her. He could do it even for just a night, regardless of his exhaustion. They only had one tour date left to go. Maybe he could ask Hyejin what she thought of that. It was better to ask before getting his hopes up.

When the social media photos were done, and everyone was going for drinks and snacks, he got up and got some chips from a bowl next to the food containers Jungkook was raiding. Namjoon kept eying the manager, though. Just waiting for the opportunity, shifting from leg to leg as he popped his fingers joints.

“Woah, hyung,” Jimin complained. He was splayed on the couch next to Hoseok, and if he were a cartoon, a little soul would be escaping out of his mouth. “I’m getting even more tired just looking at you.”

“How do you still have so much energy?” Hoseok chuckled, looking around the room. Jin was on another couch with his forearm over his eyes, Yoongi was beside him on his phone, and Jungkook and Taehyung were eating while standing. The containers looked unsteady, with the red and brown sauces visible through the white plastic, but neither man seemed to care as they downed the noodles. “Even Kook and Tae are still while they’re eating.”

“I need to ask something, that’s all,” Namjoon admitted, pressing his lips as he fidgeted.

“About Hyejin?” Yoongi asked, raising his eyes. 

Though most people knew Hyejin in the team, they were still careful about mentioning her in a room full of people they didn’t know, notably stadium personnel, catering assistants, and other potential aliens. Her relationship with Yoongi was not common knowledge, and he was very protective.

“Well, yeah.” Namjoon nodded.

“Actually—”

Yoongi started but didn’t finish because the tour manager approached them with relief on his face and said, “There was a problem with your flight back to Seoul on Monday, but it is solved now.”

Hoseok groaned. “I can’t wait to go back home!”

Jimin tapped his leg and nodded. “Yeah, we need our break. At this point, we’re all using our battery reserves.”

“I thought you’d avoid it the most,” Taehyung voiced quietly, reaching for a water bottle.

“I’m tired now, but I’ll miss the lights later,” Jimin admitted, looking down.

“We’ll all feel it,” Jungkook commented between mouthfuls.

“Some more than others,” Yoongi added. He eyed his phone, but someone arrived at the door and asked the assistants to enter the room before he could type anything. He got up and projected his voice, “Let them through.”

The others chuckled and teased him for the way he spoke so loudly from his chest, even after almost three hours of performing, but Namjoon wasn’t listening. Similarly to all others, he had recognized Hyejin instantly, but right behind her was the someone he had on his mind all along.

Her blonde hair was brighter than he remembered, and her frame was smaller as she walked into the room behind Hyejin. Her bangs had grown beyond her jawline, and she brushed one side behind her ear absentmindedly as Hyejin told her something. Then she raised her eyes, and he saw that spark he was surely mirroring. His chest was heavy as tears rose to his eyes, and he just knew she felt the same. Everyone else enthusiastically welcomed them, getting up from the sofas to greet them, but Angie’s eyes were fixed on him, and it was like no one else existed.

Then Hyejin tapped her shoulder, and Angie was forced to blink and smile around at the familiar faces, asking her how she was and if she had enjoyed the show. Jungkook even offered food with a wave that she politely refused.

“We almost missed each other; it was truly chance!” 

Hyejin explained their situation in Korean as everyone got back to the sofas except Angie and Namjoon. Hyejin sat by Jin, not to look downright obvious next to Yoongi, and Angie stood by her side. Namjoon thought she’d be lost from not understanding the conversation, but as they stared at each other, he wondered if it was because she didn’t know what to do now that they were meeting again.

He didn’t either. He wasn’t thinking; it was like he was floating. His feet took him to her, closer and closer, until he could see her delicate skin wrinkling gently in a smile. “Hi—”

He moved before he thought it; he had to. Her arms raised a little at her sides, hinting at a hug, and he needed everything. He took her in his arms, sweeping her off her feet as his heart burst with happiness. Instantly, her orchid scent shook the foundations of his soul, unsettled the waters of his spirit, and then settled everything back into place. Because they saw each other again. Their times aligned — he had believed they’d see each other again, and they did.

He pressed her to his chest as his fingers supported the nape of her neck, feeling her nails sinking into his sweater as she breathed him in anxiously; it all electrified him indescribably. He wasn’t energized, he had a galaxy looking to burst out of his chest.

When he pulled away to look into her eyes, he felt a little crazy. He knew he was elated, that seeing her again was making him reckless, that they weren’t alone, that he was a second away from kissing her and losing himself again, but then he paused.

She was sad. Her lips were curved in a smile that didn’t bloom fully, and her glistening eyes were filled with tears, but not of happiness. Not because their wishes and hopes had just come true randomly by a touch of fate but because a storm was devastating her.

He knew then — that it was too late.

Angie had followed Hyejin a bit uneasily. Hyejin had convinced her that Namjoon and the others would like to see her, given the chance, and she couldn’t find in herself the will to say no.

However, she wasn’t sure any of the scenarios going through her head helped her nervousness. He could ignore her; after all, a year had passed. Or perhaps because he was a superstar. She had never seen him like this, despite knowing about it. It was one thing to see something online about a TV appearance. Being cheered by thousands of people made him look bigger than life, so she wondered how things would go.

Yet, as soon as their eyes locked, she knew. His lips parted ever so slightly, his wide eyes fixed on her in wonder, and everything was right with the world again. He walked up to her like a dream, and her soul buzzed with unrivaled excitement — it was him.

When he picked her up in his arms, she laughed, ecstatic. He hadn’t changed a day; the cheerfulness, the genuineness, the dimples. But then she breathed him in, and she crumbled. That citrus, woody scent whirled a turmoil inside her chest, and she sobbed mutely. She gripped his shoulders through his gray sweater as though he could save her from the guilt flooding her from the inside out, but it wasn’t possible.

When he pulled away to face her, her words dried out. How could she tell him? She didn’t want it to be true, not right now. At that instance, she wished everything was different.

But then someone called their attention. “Alright, all finished. The cars are ready to take you to the hotel so you can have a proper dinner!”

Hyejin smiled and grabbed her hand, translating what the guy had said before turning to Namjoon and asking something. Angie didn’t know what it was but could tell by his apprehension that it vexed him. Still, he agreed and gave Angie one last look full of confusion and worry, and she almost told him to wait. She wanted to explain, but Hyejin squeezed her hand.

“We’ll go in another car and meet them at the hotel. Let’s go!”

Namjoon entered the van ahead of Yoongi and Jin, sitting in the furthest seat while the managers and driver got settled. He put the hoodie over his head and looked out the window, tapping his foot incessantly on the floor. He couldn’t see anything out the window except for cars and staff getting everything ready for the show happening the next day, but he wasn’t paying attention. His mind was stuck reliving that moment over and over again.

Angie wasn’t happy to see him. A part of him wanted to scoff and deny this gut feeling; just because she had tears in her eyes, it didn’t mean anything. But he knew better; his gut told him so. His heart. Funny how they hadn’t seen each other in one year, but as soon as he saw her, he just knew that something wasn’t right.

He just couldn’t figure out what. The way she hugged him… No, he also knew she wanted to hug him. She gripped his sweater, she wouldn’t have moved away if he hadn't, but then—

Yoongi released a frustrated grunt next to him and threw his phone on the seat between them. Namjoon saw his hyung look outside, facing opposite from the phone, in time to see them exiting the underground parking lot into the night streets at the back of the venue. Jin was unbothered in the seat in front of them next to a manager, chatting about something that happened during the concert, but neither Namjoon nor Yoongi was paying attention.

Namjoon saw the screen light up with a notification — Hyejin sent a message.

Namjoon looked quickly away, ignoring the device. Maybe Yoongi was frustrated because his girlfriend was in another car instead of with them. He chuckled mutely at the thought; knowing his hyung, he wasn’t, but Namjoon was. 

He had to swallow the firm no he wanted to give Hyejin when she suggested taking different cars. It was for their safety, which was the only reason he acquiesced in the end. But he wanted to understand what was going on. He wanted to be alone with Angie, and a car was as good as it got before he could take her to his—

“Ugh, listen,” Yoongi grunted quietly, and Namjoon looked at him. He did look frustrated. “I didn’t know about this. Apparently, Hyejin didn’t know Angie was in Vegas until right before the concert, and when she found out, she thought it was a good idea to bring her along. She didn’t tell me.”

Namjoon knew by the way Yoongi was gripping the phone and ignoring the notifications popping up on the screen that he was stressed about it. They were likely fighting about it.

Namjoon shook his head slightly. “It’s okay.”

Yoongi nodded and turned the screen down for a moment. “You don’t look okay.”

Namjoon glanced at him before pulling the hoodie to cover his eyes up a little more. He could have acted disingenuous with anyone else but not Yoongi. The same way his hyung had openly spoken about Hyejin when he thought he had lost her, and sometimes, even now, when she drove him crazy, Namjoon had done the same. He had many opportunities to compose music and share how he felt about Angie over several drinks in the last year.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, letting his head fall on the headrest. “She looked at me in a way that— I can’t explain it.”

“You’ll talk to her tonight.”

“Right,” he sighed, rubbing his head. Talk and hopefully, something more, whatever more. He needed to hold her in his arms just a little longer. He was just afraid he wouldn’t be able to.

Angie felt awkward. The last time she had dinner with all the guys was at Hyejin's wedding two years back, and it didn't feel that weird. Of course, Hyejin herself was there this time, and it made the atmosphere lively as she easily joked around and translated back and forth. Even though Angie was surrounded by friendly and patient people who often tried to include her in the conversation, she couldn't quite let her guard down or join in the fun as her best friend did. It wasn't that she was incapable, but she found herself hesitating.

The dining table was long, making it harder to have one big conversation as a whole group. Angie was sitting in front of Namjoon right at the center, and everyone tried to talk from one end of the table to the other, making it loud. They also tried including Angie and Namjoon and succeeded for the most part. Namjoon would mostly reply and smile before going back to being quiet and just eating.

She wanted to talk to him. She tried to when they arrived at the restaurant, but the group swiftly moved as a whole to get inside and sit down. She could barely say two words to him, and now, it just wasn't the moment. Everyone would have been able to hear it, and she wanted to talk just the two of them.

Angie thought he understood that because aside from teasing her once or twice to participate in the group's crazy, he stayed quiet. It actually made her heart tremble — not only was she seeing him again, but he was right there. Across the table, having dinner like no time at all had passed. With his light brown hair, broad muscles, and such perceptive eyes, her legs were jelly. It shook her in ways she couldn’t name. All she wanted was to pull him aside, look into his eyes, and finally ask him how he had been doing.

The waiting was the worst.

“So what's the plan?” Yoongi asked, grabbing his wine glass as he eyed Angie and Hyejin. He asked in English, so Angie was pretty sure it included her. “Are you staying for our show tomorrow?”

“Uhh, no, I… didn't plan on it,” Angie admitted, looking at Hyejin. “But I don't know about Hyejin.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, smiling playfully. “We could watch another concert and leave on Monday.”

“I can’t. I need to give a class Monday morning.”

She felt Namjoon's eyes and knew he wanted to ask about her work, but Hyejin was already shrugging. 

“Alright, then we'll leave tomorrow. I'll fly back with you and finally meet the boyfriend.”

Hyejin chuckled mischievously, but Angie couldn’t hear her. She had paled significantly as she faced Namjoon, who was just looking at her, fork mid-air with a piece of steak still on it. There was pain in his eyes before he put the fork down and reached for his water glass, and Angie teared up with a sting inside her chest. She wanted to tell him, not for him to find out like this.

Namjoon put the glass of water down after taking a sip. “You're seeing someone?”

Angie’s heart dropped as she breathed her answer. “Yes.” She swallowed dryly and felt the urge to explain, “Only for the last three months.”

“She didn't want me to meet him yet, but since I'm traveling to Boston, I convinced her,” Hyejin revealed with a grin and an elbow poke into Angie’s ribs.

Angie straightened her back. “It's nothing serious.”

“What are you talking about? You've met his parents! They love you; you're basically part of the family already.”

Hyejin was bragging as though she was congratulating Angie on a promotion or some type of accomplishment, and Angie tapped her leg. It forced Hyejin to stop and look at her best friend, finally noticing how uncomfortable she was.

“Maybe you should talk more carefully,” Yoongi hissed quietly in Korean from next to Namjoon, and Hyejin blinked, befuddled by the whole situation. Why was Angie looking so anxious? Why was Yoongi angry? Why was it all such a big deal?

“Woah, so you're leaving,” Jin said loudly, and the other guys picked up on it.

“We should do something fun tonight, then.”

Angie couldn’t understand what the guys started talking about, but she wouldn’t have cared even if she did. Namjoon wasn't looking at her anymore, eating with his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him, and it hurt. Her hurt stung as she teared up yet stayed unable to talk to him properly. She felt shut off and unable to do anything about it. It was hard to explain it — she and Namjoon weren't together, nor did they ever say they'd wait or had any expectations they would. But then why did she feel like she had betrayed him somehow and broken his heart? His trust? Why did it feel like she had betrayed them?

Things moved too fast after that, and Angie felt like she was running after Namjoon without ever catching up to him. The guys had rented the whole hotel rooftop for themselves and the staff to have dinner and drinks comfortably at the restaurant and bar. That also meant that a karaoke machine wasn't hard to arrange. When the group moved to the bar area, whistling at the panoramic view from the enclosed space, Angie followed, hoping to finally have a moment with Namjoon. However, he sat between Hoseok and Taehyung, and she had no choice but to stay next to Hyejin on another couch.

She couldn’t really engage with anything happening around her, and it wasn't because of the language. There was just so much she wanted to tell him. She recalled all their jokes and moments fondly. She was so proud of everything he had accomplished and become, especially after seeing him perform. The CD he made for her… it was still her safe place. It was like a piece of his soul that she got to keep with her and that she cherished with her whole soul. 

She wanted to confess that she regretted not telling him how much she loved him. He told her in so many ways, like the sweet, romantic poet he was, whereas she had simply made jokes about time theories her colleagues would have discussed when attending a karaoke night like that. Looking back, it felt like she was too weak — she had deep feelings for him, but she was scared to voice them. Because if she did, it would hurt so much.

Yet, instead of telling him all this tonight, she just lingered around nursing her beer. She debated leaving after realizing that his gaze still stayed stubbornly away from her, but she’d prefer to just confront him and ask to talk and get that all out of her chest.

In the end, he got up and left quietly, and she didn't wait for any more social cues or permission. She simply got up and followed him.

She ignored all the staff around and kept her eyes on him to see where he was going. Then, he opened the heavy glass door to step outside onto the balcony, and she went after him.

The night was cold that far up despite the spring weather, and Angie shivered in just her jeans and button shirt but didn't turn back. Namjoon surely heard the door close behind her and turned around, sucking a deep puff from a lit cigarette between his lips. Angie staggered when his eyes met her form, and the night city lights and rooftop lights finally allowed them to face each other.

She started trembling. “You… You smoke.”

He took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew the smoke out, letting his eyes linger on her before answering, “Only when I'm stressed.”

His were such simple words said so quietly, yet she almost burst out crying. 

Her breath hitched, and he asked, “What's wrong?”

His worry was clear in the way he opened his hands as if to help her, though without touching her. He looked at her intently, and she couldn't breathe. She didn't know why she asked that, she knew he smoked. Never with her, but he did that one night they fought a year before. The night he barged out, got drunk, and came back because he loved her and wanted to spend every second possible together. Because he wanted to live and love without regrets.

She had to force air back into her lungs, feeling like her chest was about to cave in. “I'm sorry!” she breathed.

Angie reached to grab his hands for support, and he didn’t move away. “About what?” he asked.

Her features twisted in a grimace for a second. Then she looked down at their hands, trying to put her feelings into words. “I didn’t mean for you to hear it like that. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

“It’s fine,” he assured, pulling his hands away.

In one fluid motion, he took the cigarette to his mouth again and moved away from her, turning his back to face the world instead. The view of his broad shoulders that once would have brought her comfort suddenly hurt her so much more.

She saw the smoke dissipate into the air above his head, and a whimper shook her. “I’m sorry,” her voice wavered as she looked at the floor, seeing his feet turn to her. “I can’t help feeling like I just betrayed us somehow, and I just… I’m really sorry.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, but her heart was on her sleeve, and the tears were looking for a way out. Her lips trembled as she wiped them away, trying to hide them from his attentive eyes.

“No, don’t be sorry,” his tone was so light in comparison to her heavy heart that she sobbed. “Hey,” he called, and she finally looked up. He had a small smile and gentle eyes. “There’s no problem, quite the contrary. You're building a relationship with someone special, and that’s amazing,” he remarked with a smile that indented his cheeks ever so slightly. She was frozen, looking at him, trying to understand. “You’re happy. That’s all that matters.”

Angie couldn’t stop looking at him. Namjoon was talking with such gentleness, but her chest ached. It was as though her heart was heavy while his was light as a feather, and she didn't get it.

Suddenly, her brow furrowed as she pondered over what he had said. Happy. She thought she was, but now she wasn't so sure. 

“Why would you say I’m happy?” she asked, still frowning, and he chuckled.

“Come on, you’re building something,” he pointed out, as though that said it all. Her brown eyes didn't show any understanding, and he tried again. “Remember we talked about how hard it was to find someone who fits your standards. You found him. That’s good.”

His voice's register lowered, and she looked down at his chest, feeling hers tighten more and more. She did say that; she complained about how difficult it was to find a partner until she found Namjoon. Then, she told him he was her standard and that she wanted him to be the one she found. To hear him say all that about someone else suddenly felt like—

“How did you— I mean.” He cleared his throat as he scratched the back of his head. “What's his name? What does he do?”

“I don't want to talk about him.”

Angie was rigid and unmoving as she said this. Her reply might have been thoughtless, but she had no doubts about it. She didn’t want to talk about someone else when Namjoon was right there. Something was stuck in her throat, and the more she tried to figure it out, the more it mixed with her heartache like oil and water.

Namjoon nodded. “I understand. I was just…”

“Being nice?”

She clenched her jaw and finally met his eyes, and it risked setting her anger ablaze. She thought he didn't need to hide behind a mask of niceties with her.

Perhaps she thought wrong. Everything felt wrong anyway. 

She swallowed dryly and looked away, giving them a moment to breathe and Namjoon a minute to smoke. Maybe she was seeing it all wrong.

She turned to him again. “What about you?”

“What about me?” He chuckled the smoke out. “I’m happy for you, all I want is for you to be happy and do great.”

Her jaw set again, and this time, she bit her tongue to stay quiet. The more he said that, the more furious she became, making her clutch the hem of her shirt.

He took a drag before admitting, “I realized a while ago that I might never… have a long-lasting relationship. Because of my crazy life.” Angie looked into his eyes and saw everything he was leaving unsaid — his time would never align with hers and allow it. “So I don't blame you. I mean, quite the opposite. I'm happy I didn't hold you back.”

Angie scoffed and looked away. She was not stupid; she was well aware of their reality. She wasn't pissed because she harbored a false hope that they'd meet and get together, but because of how detached he was. She couldn’t help but despise his attitude. As though he was well above everything. As though what had happened between them was a closed chapter in the past that he had closed long ago. While she was feeling all sorts of things she couldn't even describe.

“Right.” She tried to reel in the dryness. “I'd say same, but… never mind, none of my business. I thought I changed your mind two years ago, but I guess I didn't.”

“What do you mean?”

Her features showed a hint of the bitterness inside her for a second as she observed the Las Vegas lights. The city that witnessed people's crazy and kept all their secrets. She could almost feel it in the breeze as it twirled her hair.

She looked down and brushed her hair properly behind her ears. That just wouldn't happen.

“I told you from the start that sacrifice wasn't fair. That life is more than chasing success after success. That your work shouldn’t dictate your life. That happiness is something else. Yoongi and Hyejin are the living proof that it's possible — that there's always a way.”

He smiled and looked at the floor. “They are, it's true. It’s not impossible if one is lucky to have their time aligned with the one.”

She scoffed; there it was again. And this time, it stung harshly. He meant that their time never would align like Yoongi’s and Hyejin’s, and it hurt more than she thought it would. Because he said it, contrasting so heavily with the words he had left her with before.

There could still be a future in which we will see each other again.

Because she realized, the more he talked, that he was right. Maybe he wasn’t the person she had dreamt of anymore, and it hurt like hell.

“Right… Well, obviously. I don't know what I was thinking.”

She couldn’t even look at him, and the view of the city lights was pointless. Nothing could improve her mood right now.

He kept smoking next to her in silence, and her exasperation stole away every spark of joy. What was she doing? They were not on the same page, and the more she stood there, the more alone and at a loss she felt. 

Once her heart was empty, she glanced at him and gave up. She didn't even know what to say; she just turned and walked away. Whatever her heart was holding onto… was gone.

Hyejin gripped the microphone as she sang Lee Seung Chul’s My Love, as chosen by Jin. She was not a singer by any stretch of the imagination, but it didn’t matter because they always did it for the fun of it.

“I’ll tightly hug you and then I’ll let you go,” she sang in Korean, putting on a proper show. “I’ll shout out your name once again and say my love.” She raised her hand to Yoongi, who didn’t even bat an eye at her playfulness. It made her grip the microphone more seriously and change her register from desperately in love to a lover saying goodbye. “You won’t be able to hear when I say I love you.”

She kept singing, but deep down, she checked out. Just what was happening tonight?

Yoongi was mad at her for showing up with Angie, and she thought he wasn’t being fair. He was completely exaggerating! So what if Angie and Namjoon had met and slept together the last two times they met? They were adults. Not to mention that they never mentioned one another, let alone cared. Yoongi acted as though the fact that they once slept together meant that they were star-crossed lovers. How could that be when they literally moved on? They acted like the other didn’t exist! Hyejin was free to bring her best friend to her boyfriend’s concert, damn it!

“I’m alright – those words are pitiful lies,” she kept singing, running her eyes over the rest of the group. “We try to smile but we’re only filled with tears.”

The guys were tired and trying their best to have fun, fortunately, cheering her on as she sang. Meanwhile, her best friend was downing drink after drink, and Hyejin couldn’t even convince her to get on stage and sing. Which was a shame, too, because she could sing, and Hyejin bet Namjoon didn’t even know it. At least she was able to prevent her from running back to Hyejin’s hotel room, the one she wouldn’t really use cause she always slept with Yoongi, anyway. Hyejin wanted Angie to have fun, but something was spoiling her mood. Knowing her, she was brooding about work again. They really needed to talk about that, from a previous workaholic to another.

“Oh rather than a bright and sunny morning, the night’s moonlight is better. Setting aside the goodbye kiss for a moment, let’s stay like this,” she sang as she came to the song’s close. Her eyes settled on Yoongi again, who was stiffly sitting beside Namjoon on the opposite side of the lounge. The latter’s leg kept jumping to a faster pace than her song, and she wondered if they’d all just call it a night soon. “I’ll tightly hug you and then I’ll let you go. I’ll shout out your name once again and say my love. You won’t be able to hear when I say I love you, my love!!”

She finished dramatically and bowed deeply as the guys clapped and cheered her heartfelt performance. She got down from the makeshift stage and sat down next to Yoongi, taking Namjoon’s spot as he got up to go to the bathroom. The others were quick to argue over who should go next, but Hyejin didn’t pay any attention. She grabbed Yoongi’s hand on his lap, and he gave her a look that made her huff with exasperation.

“What? Still that? Won’t you drop it?” she asked, rolling her eyes. She jutted her chin in Angie’s direction, seeing her asking for something else to drink at the bar. “She’s fine, he’s fine, they’re fine!”

“Fine?” Yoongi all but hissed, then glanced at the others, and his expression became as smooth as porcelain again. “Forget it.”

“No!” She frowned, letting go of his hand since he wasn’t grabbing her back. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? They are over each other, it happened a year ago—”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and got up, flaring her anger before he turned around and said, “I’m not having this conversation here.”

She was quick to follow him out of the bar area, knowing he detested having arguments in public. She understood and shared his vision and was one hundred percent set on telling him to back off and stop mulling over something everyone was over with. Following him to the restaurant’s entryway, she already had her arguments prepared and listed in her mind.

Except suddenly he turned around to face her with a mix of anger and disbelief that momentarily stunned her. 

“How can you be so blind?!” He said, his eyebrows puckered in confusion and befuddlement. “He’s clearly still in love with her!”

She staggered not to clash against him and blinked quickly, trying to assimilate that piece of information. “What? No way! Did he tell you that?”

“No.”

“Then don’t just say that!”

He huffed. “Hyejin—”

“He moved on! He’s super busy!”

“He makes himself busy!” Yoongi threw his hands in the air, exasperated to his core. “He drowns in work by choice! Have you heard what he’s been working on?” Hyejin frowned, and he shook his head sadly. “He has hope! Or had!”

“What?” She grimaced; was he delusional? “He never once asked me about her!”

“Because that was their deal!”

She opened her mouth to argue, but that she couldn’t deny. Hyejin always found their deal very frustrating — no phone numbers, no contacts, no questions. It introduced unnecessary hurdles between them, and she was totally against it and, alas, unable to do anything about it.

She sighed. “That doesn’t mean he loves her.”

He rubbed his face, calming down a little. “But you know him. He hopes, he dreams, he fantasizes, heck— He probably uses that feeling as a catalyst, as the flame that keeps him going. Or else he wouldn’t be writing about an angel in all his songs over the last year.”

Hyejin swallowed dryly and then shook her head. “So what? I shouldn’t have brought her here because he might feel something for her?”

Yoongi heaved a deep breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. Life happened, it is what it is. But you were careless, talking like that and not giving him any heads up. You have no idea the size of his sacrifice. I was sad and angry when I once thought I lost you and could never turn time around to do something to fight for you. How do you think he feels?”

She bristled, looking at him in disbelief. “You can’t be comparing—”

“I am,” he deadpanned, stepping closer to look deeply into her eyes. “Love doesn’t have to grow for a lifetime to be devastatingly powerful.” 

She gasped, unable to find words. He was talking about their love, the one they cherished after fighting and enduring so many hardships to get there. Yoongi was really saying that Angie and Namjoon’s feelings compared.

“Namjoon feels that way about your friend Angie,” he insisted more calmly. “And you just pushed him off a cliff by—”

“Guys.”

The couple suddenly muted and turned to find Namjoon just about to head to the balcony. He had a huge smile on his face and zero worries.

“I’m fine. It’s totally fine! Don’t worry about it. We’re all tired, I’m going to smoke one and go sleep! You should, too!”

Namjoon turned quickly to push the heavy glass doors and step into the cold night air of the balcony without bothering to register Hyejin and Yoongi’s replies. He had heard most of their fight when exiting the bathroom only to stumble on them, and there was nothing to say. Hyejin was justified in thinking he didn’t feel anything about Angie, and Yoongi knew him too well — of course, he’d know the truth.

So there was nothing to be mad about, at least at Hyejin. She didn’t have to give him a heads-up about bringing a friend along to a concert or dinner; they were childhood friends, and they never needed that before. He and Angie had a deal for a reason, and maybe that all happened for the best. Maybe it was a good thing that he never reached out to Hyejin about going to Boston like he intended to. That way, Angie didn’t know how he was looking forward to seeing her, which would have only made her feel worse, considering—

He heaved a deep breath, carding his light brown hair out of his forehead. He didn’t understand the way Angie spoke of her boyfriend or why she was angry with him. It was as though she expected him to be dating, too, and was upset that he wasn’t. Which made him kick a cigarette butt in front of his shoe and scoff — he knew who he wanted for the past year. It was crazy, but he accepted his heart. And he was fine with her wanting something else, it just—

He groaned and rubbed his eyes, knowing that feeling in the depth of his gut — he was pissed. He hated it all. Hated the sorrow in her eyes, but most of all, the sorrow inside his chest. What else did he expect? That a year later, he’d show up at her door and that she’d still love him? That she would have been hung up on him as he was on her? Dreaming about her? Writing songs about her? Yoongi was right — she was a fire that kept him going. Inadvertently or not, he hoped with his whole heart that he would have been able to hold her again and feel that way again.

But it was fucking hopeless. He was hopeless. All he had left was that familiar and unsurmountable distance between them and jealousy. He would never meet the guy, but he would envy him for the rest of his life.

He felt his pockets in search of his pack of cigarettes when he heard noise from behind him, making him turn with a raised eyebrow. Angie had just barged outside, rushing to him with an angry expression that didn’t relent when she stopped and faced him.

“I have something to say, and I won’t be able to swallow it, so I’m just gonna say it.”

He nodded slowly, standing there just looking at her. “Okay.”

“I’m so fucking pissed!” She almost shouted, gripping her hair for a moment before getting it off her face. “The moment I stop waiting for you, you show up! What the fuck is up with that?! And I know you don’t owe me shit, but you promised you wouldn’t forget! And of course, you don’t have to feel anything anymore, that’s fine. I can’t do anything about it, I get it, why would you feel anything, I just— It just fucking hurts because I hoped for so fucking long to— to see you again and feel that way again and live again and just—” Her voice wavered, and she looked away to wipe the tears, panting as though she had just run a sprint. “It’s not fair that I feel like I just lost so fucking much while you feel nothing at all. I thought we’d at least remember it together.”

Angie cleaned her tears with her palms and didn’t notice how Namjoon was clenching his jaw. His chest was a warzone — how could she accuse him of all that?

“What do you want me to say?”

She looked at him again, anger emerging in her red and tearful eyes. “Did you not just hear any word I said?”

“I did, Angie. And what do you want me to say?”

Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, gritting her teeth hard. She might have been angry, and so was he, and yet, despite it all, the truth was still simple. He did want her to be happy — mentioning how he felt wouldn’t help her in any way. It was just pointless.

“Fine, fuck it, don’t say anything—”

She was turning around to leave, and he grabbed her arm to stop her, making her clash against his chest. He didn’t recognize himself in that type of behavior, so maybe it was the alcohol. Or it was just the longing inside his chest needing every second he could have with her before he’d lose her again, and for good.

“What do you want me to say?” he repeated quietly, almost under his breath, but it was fine because she could hear him. “That I waited? That I feel so fucking much— You think I forgot? How can you even think that?”

He realized his tone was dry and quiet, and it was his best effort not to blow up with the injustice inside his heart, too.

“What you said!” she roared, looking at him in disbelief. “How you said it! You made it sound like I’m an annoying fling mentioning something you’d like to keep buried or som—”

“You know better than that.”

He let go of her, not wanting to hurt her or force her to stay close to him like that, but she didn’t move one inch away. 

“I do not. I only know what you tell me.” She poked his chest. “So if there’s anything you’d like me to know, then you have to tell me.”

He gritted his teeth again, facing her with a burning heart while fighting the tears in his eyes. There was so fucking much he wanted to say, but he was mute. Fuck, she looked beautiful, even angry at him. He hadn’t seen her in a year, and suddenly, every second was an opportunity to refresh his memory with her sweet image. He wanted to cradle her cheek and feel her soft skin, lean in to breathe in her sweet orchid scent, trace her delicate skin with his lips until their lips could—

She scoffed and stepped back, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

His hands snapped forward to grab her arms and pull her close again, and this time, he didn’t hold back. “You’re driving me fucking insane. Shut up and listen,” he told her, shaking his head once. “You have to know better than that because you were there. You know how we felt together, our promises, our deal. I didn’t forget. You have no idea how much I thought of you. When I saw you at the concert, I thought I imagined you there just because I had been thinking about you so much. Earlier, when you were finally in my fucking arms, I thought I’d never let go. I wanted to grab you and kiss you, and nothing and nobody would have fucking mattered. You think I feel nothing?” His throat tightened with his heartache resurging at the thought. “I wanted to say free and interested before you even said hello. I feel so fucking much, you have no idea,” his voice wavered, and he let her go. He had no right to hold her like that. “But it doesn’t matter. Because you’re with someone else, and I do want you to be happy.”

She grabbed his sweater by his chest. “You’d be with me?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Angie.”

“Just tell me, please!”

“Yes,” he said, his voice laced with defeat. “I wouldn’t have wasted a minute away from you. I might have let us stay around the others, but only if you promised you’d have time for me later. And I don’t mean just taking you to my room and spending the night with you. Tomorrow is our last tour date, and I would cancel everything afterward just to stay with you for as long as possible. I need to drown in you until I forget my fucking name.”

He couldn’t help the need and craving in his tone, and the way she reached to cup his jawline didn’t help. It made him long for her again.

He let his forehead fall to her shoulder, and as she embraced him close, so did he. His arms wrapped around her middle as he delved into the desperation inside his chest. There was no point in admitting to any of that.

“Fuck it,” she muttered into his ear. “I'll just call him and break up right now—”

“No.” He raised his head to face her, staying so close her breath fanned his face. “No, you can’t do that. That’s just an impulse.”

“It's much more than that,” she argued, her eyes hardening while his lightened.

“It's reckless.”

“I don't care!”

“It's not fair,” he insisted, and she frowned.

“What do you mean? I’d have you. You just said it,” she continued, doubt crossing her features yet again, and he couldn’t help the turmoil of emotions inside his chest.

He shook his head with a smile as a tear escaped down his cheek. “Angie,” he whispered, cradling her cheeks gently. “Yes, you would have me. I'd give you my all. I would love you without regrets.” She trembled and held onto him harder. “I want to. So much,” he whispered, touching her forehead with his. “But it would be a moment in time. I can't give you more.” He opened his eyes, staring into her beautiful, astute gaze that he loved so much. “Nothing has changed — I’m still committed to something bigger than myself.” She closed her eyes and grimaced, but she didn’t argue. “And what you have now… is more. More than I can hope to give you. And you deserve everything.”

She shook her head, comforted by his soothing thumbs brushing her cheeks. “I don't care. I don’t know why, but I don’t care.”

“Could it be because you drank a lot?” he asked, and she groaned a no. “You always said you didn’t want us to get drunk.”

“Because the first time, we didn’t know each other yet, and the second time, I wanted to enjoy every second,” she explained, knowing he knew it very well. He brushed her grown curtain bangs behind her ear, and she insisted, “It’s not because I’m drunk that I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You can’t say that,” he replied simply, never stopping his thumb on her cheek. “It’s best not to make any decisions right now. I don’t want to be someone you regret.”

“You would never be,” she promised, facing him with harsh eyes, yet he chuckled.

“It’s not something I want to risk.”

She grabbed his wrists, tearing up as her emotions emerged again. “But you’d risk missing this opportunity?” His expression sobered a little bit more, and she continued, “You think I have forgotten? About our time together? About us? I can’t.”

“No. I know you haven't.” The certainty in his voice helped her look at him and finally feel like they were still on the same page. “And you don’t have to. But you found someone special. Remember? You said they didn't have to be me.”

Angie’s face twisted into an ugly grimace as she bawled. “You know why I said that!”

He let go of her cheeks to wrap his arms around her and crush her to him, supporting her through it. “I know. I knew then and now. And I'm okay with it. Okay?” She kept crying, and he kept holding her. “I just want you to be happy, that's it. Remember? I'm the one you searched for and had to let go.”

She sobbed. “But I want our time to align.”

He squeezed her harder. “It hasn't… but it's okay… I'm really happy for you.”

She suddenly pulled away and faced him sternly despite the abundance of tears on her face. “If you say that one more time, I will hate you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Her anger instantly dissipated from her features as he cleaned the tear traces softly with his thumb. His gentle care gave her time to breathe and look at him properly, beyond anger and grief. He looked tired and sad yet happy. He might have been better at hiding it, but he was suffering, too.

“I'll regret it,” she breathed. His eyes jumped to hers again, and she nodded. “Won't I? I'll regret this for the rest of my life.”

His brow furrowed ever so slightly, and she knew he wanted to deny it. She gave him a look, and he finally smiled. “Isn't that what we're made of? Our dreams and regrets.”

Namjoon woke up to the sound of the bathroom door closing on the other end of the hotel room. He heard someone using the bathroom and groaned, pressing his fingers into the back of his nape as he sat up on the couch.

That wasn’t his hotel room, and looking around, his mind pieced everything easily despite the huge headache. Hyejin and Yoongi found him and Angie on the rooftop the night before and took matters into their own hands. Hyejin promised to take care of Angie, and Yoongi didn’t even have to ask; Namjoon just followed him to his hotel room. 

They asked for a bottle of whiskey. Yoongi was the perfect drinking buddy, letting Namjoon drink and talk his heart out. He had never discussed Angie so openly, but it felt fitting. Namjoon was there when Yoongi finally admitted that he was in love with Hyejin at her wedding, and now Yoongi was there for him.

“I’m burying my heart tonight,” Namjoon said, with self-contempt twisting his smile. He was repeating his hyung’s words but without any hope of ever getting another chance. If anything, he was mourning the chance that never existed, even though he wanted it so much. It drowned him in sorrow before he could drown in the bottle.

The bathroom door opened, and Yoongi croaked, “Morning.”

Namjoon just groaned.

Yoongi hummed as he read something on his phone. “Hyejin sent me a text. They’re going to grab a taxi and take a flight to Boston. Do you want to see Angie off?”

Namjoon got onto his feet instantly. He only washed his face and used the bathroom because Yoongi told him to and promised he’d ask Hyejin to wait.

Time flew by, and suddenly, he was walking into Hyejin’s room. The first thing he noticed was the luggage by the door that someone would soon come to pick up. Then, he walked further in, and everything blurred except her.

Angie got up from the bed she was sitting on and opened her arms to welcome him, and he didn’t hesitate to hold her again. He wouldn’t have dared to ask, but he wouldn’t squander the opportunity.

“Hey,” she finally whispered after a while. He let her pull away so they could face each other, barely noticing that Yoongi and Hyejin had stepped out to give them privacy. “Are you okay? You look sick.”

He smiled and enjoyed her sweet caress down his cheek. “I drank with Yoongi and didn’t sleep much.” She nodded and he didn’t hold back from caressing her cheek, too. “You look tired,” he pointed out, noticing her dark circles and puffy eyes.

“I cried a lot… Hyejin stayed with me all night.”

He chuckled. “Same with Yoongi. I’m glad I stayed with him, or I would have found my way to your door again and acted all pathetic like last time.”

“Are we?” she asked earnestly, her eyes tearing up. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, and she continued, “I’m sober now, and I think the same way as I did last night. Hyejin told me I only live once, and you’d tell me I’m being reckless and impulsive, and I just feel like I’m going to drown because I’ll regret it either way.”

Her voice wavered as she faced him despite the certainty in her features. Unfortunately, all he could do was look at her without knowing what to say. The headache wasn’t helping.

“You were right. Cheating isn’t me, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Breaking up over the phone is nasty, and he doesn’t deserve that. So last night was the right decision. But I’ll still regret it. Especially if I never see you again. It will haunt me for the rest of my life. Isn’t that more pathetic?”

Her voice broke down at the end, and he hugged her immediately as strongly as he could. “No. Listen to me: nothing has changed. I have wished for your happiness from the moment we met, and that’s all I’ll ever wish for you. You and I…” he turned his face so he could whisper into her ear. “The type of love we have for each other is ours alone. It’s unique and special and different in our own way. It transcends time and will always take a part of my heart.”

A sob shook her. “Namjoon…”

“So don’t worry. I’ll always be that someone you know, and our time theory stays the same: there could still be a future in which we will see each other again. That’s all I hope for, Angie. That’s all I want.”

[alexcutecolly]

The Tenor

Greatly inspired by that anon asking about preds putting on a musical number before eating their prey, I wrote this short story!

Warnings: some cursing, fearplay, unwilling g/t vore, uncaring pred.

Mainly NSFW vore accounts DNI!!

Words: ~2.1k

°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

Your head feels heavy as you start regaining consciousness, your vision all blurred and confusing before your eyes focus on your surroundings.

“Mhhh?”

W…where am I?

It looks like you’re in the backstage of a massive theater. No kidding, every single equipment around you is gigantic compared to your size. The curtains are still closed, and the dark engulfs everything. The only exception being a single, big reflector casting its beacon of light before you.

Looking down, you realize you’re all tied up to a chair of your own scale.

“Uh???” You can’t move an inch, and any attempt at budging is vain; plus you can feel the ropes almost digging into your sitting form.

W… what happened? I was waiting in a queue to buy a ticket for Mr. Biggs’ next performance-

“Is… anyone there?” you call out, your voice resounding in the seemingly empty room.

“Oh! There you are! It took you longer that I thought to wake up!” a booming voice breaks the eerie silence, coming from above but behind you.

“U-uh?”

This voice-

“The Titanic Tenor…? Mr. … Mr. Biggs? Is… Is that you?”

He chuckles, moving from his previous position to face you.

“That is me indeed~”

“Mr. Biggs, w-what’s going on? Is… is this a joke?” you ask him, doing your best not to make a puppy-eyed face as you look straight at him.

“Oh, not at all! You see… you’ve been randomly picked for an unique, extraordinary event involving the one and only me!” he exclaims, putting his arms out with theatrical emphasis.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Ooookaaaay…? Aaaaand… Why does it require me to be bound to a chair, in dim light, in the backstage?” you question him, wriggling a bit in place.

“Oh it’s rather simple.” He grins menacingly.

“I’ll give you 60 seconds to escape. If you don’t make it, I’m going to eat you. How’s that sound?”

“W-WHAT-“

“I won’t repeat myself. The ropes are tight. I’m just sure you’ll come up with something” he says, keeping the same excited grin.

“But- this is absurd!!”

“Oh yeah it is! Absurd, that I haven’t done this before!”

You gulp nervously.

“And in the meantime, allow me to perform a cavatina dedicated to your despair only. It should last for the perfect amount of time as well.”

“B-but wait! Why do you want to eat me? I’m just a random spectator from your usual audience! Also… Aren’t tenors supposed to play the heroes, the good guys in operas? Not that we’re in a play right now but-“

“First of all. Although you’re technically right, there are some interesting exceptions in 19th century plays where the tenor plays the bad guy, and the main male protagonist/hero is played by a baritone. Just check out Giuseppe Verdi’s ‘Rigoletto’, so you’ll know what I’m talking about” he responds, moving his hand in the air as to shoo your doubts away.

“And for the reason why I’m so eager to make a meal out of you… Why can’t I? Shouldn’t I enjoy a snack every once in a while?”

“You can’t be serious-“

“Ta-ta, less complaining and more working on those ropes, or the only symphony you’re going to be listening to in a minute will be my belly’s. C’mon, the play is starting!”

“Just wait-!”

“Oooooh~ oh my dear preeeeey~

You should’ve walked awayyyy~

From the moment you feeelt

Your impending dooooom~”

The giant tenor is ignoring you now, his back turned to you as he starts to sing his malicious song.

Great, just great. You sigh.

So you begin wriggling and struggling, with your hands doing their best to release your wrists first.

Shit, he wasn’t lying about the ropes being tight, you think with a grunt.

“… And whaaaaat

are you going to doooo

once you’re all settleeed

inside my guuuut~… ”

Ugh, shut up.

His eyes meet yours, when he turns around as he continues with his mocking cavatina. He licks his lips for just a moment, causing you to flinch and look away from him.

Clenching your teeth, you feel a small wind of relief when you finally manage to untie one of the knots. The ropes feel a little loosened now. You don’t stop, and keep insisting on the other knots. Thankfully, it seems there’s only one remaining.

“… 20 seconds… is all that’s leeeeft~

Before you’re plunged

Down into my chest~…”

You curse under your breath, your sore fingers now attempting to undo what remains of the thread binding you to the chair. It’s all been wrapped around you, which makes it even harder to make it come off.

Eventually, you pull the rope and it finally releases you from your sitting position, and that’s when you toss it away and run for your life.

But that’s when you realize…

Wait… I’m not on the ground! He placed me on a fucking table!! Or… Is it a… stage?

“Was… was there not an escape route the entire time?” you ask yourself, horrified at coming at your conclusion.

“Nonono, there has to be one-”

“Oh my dear prey~

Your time is uuup~

And now you will be

Miiiiiine~”

He lets out the last word with a nice, prolonged High C before approaching, rubbing his hands together at your sight.

“Wait, nonono, I refuse to be eaten!” you say, standing up to him with your fists clenched.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart, you’ve had your chance. Now, give up and accept it.”

“’My chance’ your ass, you’ve tricked me! You made me believe I could run away in safety, but… How was I supposed to get down from here?” With a stern look you point at the edge of the table, which is at least 3 feet in giant size.

The tenor sighs. “Gorgeous. The actors aren’t supposed to leave the stage until the curtains are pulled! Don’t you know that?”

“B-but… we’re not in a play right now.”

“Says who?” the opera singer asks rhetorically, grinning from ear to ear.

!!!!

“Y-you didn’t correct me before! When I said the same thing!”

“I didn’t, yeah. Aren’t you happy, though? You’ve been promoted from mere spectator to main acting role!”

“A-as if this is what I was waiting in line for! I’m- I’m done with your stupid game!”

“Oh yeah sure, feel free to complain to the big boss if you’d like, then! And that is…”

He does a little twirl, turning around before doing a theatrical pose with his arms stretched out wide.

“ME!”

“…”

You have nothing else to say. The situation is already crazy enough for your understanding. Plus it feels so demeaning, it’s like your mind is detaching itself from your body.

“Anyhow, I hope you’ll behave now. Because…”

He leans forward with the usual wicked smile plastered on his face. You instinctively take a step back in fear, looking up to the famished giant.

“You’re going to be the spotlight of my lunch.”

You shake your head. “N-no please! Have mercy!!”

“And I will! Plus it’s not like you’re going to die, you silly goose!” he says loudly, reaching out towards you with his large hand.

You almost dodge his fingers, but they manage to grab the back of your jacket at the very last second. And so you’re lifted up in the air, wriggling in the caging fist of your captor.

“Ha-have you taken into account the fact that maybe I just don’t want to be eaten by you?” you wheeze out as you attempt to free yourself from his grip.

“Oh, I have. I just decided not to care.”

He raises you above his head, his lips slowly parting to reveal the teeth and the inside of the maw.

You shake your head again, as to wake yourself up from this terrible dream. But when reality sinks in, all left for you to do is a desperate attempt at reaching for the fingers that are holding you up in the air.

Though Mr. Biggs doesn’t waste any more time, and he drops you right into the wide, very welcoming opening below.

Letting out a scream, you land right onto his spongy tongue. Covered in saliva already, you cough and immediately try to slip away towards the front, but the giant keeps you in place by pressing you even more into his taste buds with his index.

“MMMMMM!!~” the tenor hums loudly, rubbing your body up and down to get more and more of your peculiar flavor. And you must taste amazing, because more and more pools of saliva are accumulating fast all around you.

After a while though, he retracts the finger to close his mouth and seal you inside. As soon as the light goes out, the muscle underneath you pins you to the palate, unperturbed by your struggling; and as if it wasn’t enough, it brushes against you tirelessly to gather even more of your taste.

In the end, there’s nothing that doesn’t make you feel like you’re being sucked onto like a tiny piece of candy.

On the outside, the giant can barely contain his appetite. Oh, to have a feisty snack like you before any of his shows!

Once he’s grown tired of having you stuck to the roof of his mouth, he starts swirling you around, moving you from cheek to cheek. His continued humming makes the whole damp cave vibrate, which you’d find even soothing in a totally different situation. And it only gets worse when he picks up the snarky song he was singing before, his purring another way to taunt his poor victim.

Having fun with your part, morsel? I can keep going for as much as I like-

All of a sudden the alarm on Mr. Biggs’ watch goes off, reminding him of the incoming performance.

Humpf. Nevermind, I guess. Almost forgot about that, he huffs, quite annoyed to interrupt his vicious snacking.

Welp. Every story must come to an end, sooner or later, after all. What really matters is enjoying the ride, right~?

And that’s when he begins to tilt his head back.

In the inside of his maw everything shifts incredibly fast. Not that it has was all peaceful up until this moment, but if you were laying horizontally on his tongue just a few seconds ago, now you’re sliding straight towards a new dark chasm- his throat.

“N-no, wait!! D-don’t swallow!!” you shout, wiggling and doing the best way you can to hold onto something- anything-, that prevents you from falling into the bottomless pit in the back.

But with all the fleshy interiors coated in saliva, your hands hopelessness slip, slip and slip. So you what you actually manage to accomplish, is to just stare as you pass through the hellish gate and go down the hatch.

*GLK~*

The tenor gently presses his big hand to his neck as he feels you travel down, deeper and deeper inside of him until you disappear behind his collarbone.

“Mmmmm, I needed that~ some entertainment before the great show, you know?” he speaks, as if you could actually listen to him.

The descend towards his stomach is tight. So so tight. It’s giving you claustrophobia. The heat is unbearable, and you’re not even in the main chamber yet. His heart is hammering somewhere very close to you, undeterred to your despair. And when you’re finally released in the stomach, it feels like your troubles are over for the moment.

If Mr. Biggs is true to his word, you’re going to be safe. For a while, at least.

…

Hopefully.

“Aaaah~ That hit the spot~” Mr. Biggs sighs, feeling your small but filling presence inside his belly. He smirks at your puny wriggling, rubbing your spot with more glee than annoyance.

“Mmmmm, don’t be shy and struggle more if you’d like~” he says, poking his middle again in hope to get more active reactions from you.

“In the meantime, the rest of the audience is waiting for me for the real play! Make yourself at home, you’re definitely not coming out for the next few hours~” he says, chuckling to himself.

Before going back to his dressing room though, he gathers the tiny chair and the discarded thread from the stage - more like a table to him - ‘borrowed’ from the non-giant singers and musicians. Thankfully nobody has walked in during the events that have just transpired, or that’d have been pretty weird - if not embarrassing - to explain.

Oh well, you think, getting more comfortable as you crawl up to the nearest stomach wall to lay against it. Your eyes growing heavier from exhaustion and the excruciating warmth.

At least I’ve got front row seats to a free performance.

[jowrites]

We got Married - 1. Pick your Partner

Masterlist Here.

Prev. Next.

TW: Cursing, stalkers(sasaengs), sexual themes, more to follow

Taglist: @lisaswifey

Heeseung sat in the green room watching the clock run down. His leg was shaking which was a sign of just how nervous he was. The longer he waited, the more nerves seemed to hit him. He had no interest in doing this show, but his manager convinced him it was a great opportunity to promote their group and show a different side of him so he reluctantly agreed. Now that he’s here, he just wanted to go home. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and he turned and looked as it opened revealing Jeon Jungkook of BTS. Heeseung quickly stood up, eyes wide and bowed respectfully at his senior who walked in and smiled at him. Jungkook came in and embraced Heeseung and helped Heeseung release some of the nerves. He had no idea Jungkook was also partaking in the show.

“Ah, don’t be so nervous, you’ll do great. The girls won’t bite…hard, hopefully,” Jungkook said.

“Do you know who it is?” Heeseung asked.

“I know 1, but when I heard you were here I had to come and greet you. She’s someone I’m close with,” Jungkook explained.

“Ah, okay. She won’t eat me alive, will she?” Heeseung asked.

“If you don’t let her,” Jungkook shrugged.

Heeseung didn’t know what he meant by that and just raised an eyebrow at him. The two of them sat down and began a small conversation and Heeseung’s nerves were beginning to slightly dwindle. Jungkook was friendly and outgoing and his jokes made him laugh. Jungkook treated you like family and Heeseung really appreciated his kind nature. Soon the staff came in and handed them each a phone, they explained to make character accounts for themselves and not give anything away until the end. They were to be invited to the chatroom and chat with each other and then decide at the end who you choose as your partner. 

If you and your partner choose each other, it was a match and you would be on the show. If you didn’t pick each other then it would end there and you’d be matched with someone else randomly. It didn’t seem too difficult, so Heeseung quickly followed through and made his profile, him being Bambi. The girls in the next room were advised the same instructions and they too followed and finished their characters. After they were all done, the staff gave them earphones to blast music in and blindfolded them. All the cast was then led by a staff to the filming location where they had a wall in the middle and the girls were on one side and the boys on the other. They couldn’t see or hear each other, just communicate through text.

FILMING: IN PROGRESS

The producers around began to shake their heads and chuckle to themselves as they monitored the chatrooms. This was going in the opposite direction than they liked. Jungkook and Roman were to be paired while Heeseung and Karina were to be paired, but it seems Roman and Jungkook had other intentions. The direction motioned for them to stop and they cut quickly, staff going towards the idols to signal them to stop.

FILMING: NOT IN PROGRESS.

“Well, the chat rooms are funny. Let’s move on to picking and meeting their partner now. Text them the directions and we’ll go from there,” the director explained as all the idols just looked around confused, not hearing anything but knowing something was up.

The staff sent the texts to them and the idols motioned they understood. 

Staff: Now that you have spoken to each candidate, text us who you choose to be paired with and we will text O if it’s a match and X if it’s not.

Bunny: Bloo

Bambi: Bratz

Bratz: Bambi

Bloo: Bunny

Staff to Bunny: O

Staff to Bambi: O

Staff to Bratz: O

Staff to Bloo: O

FILMING: IN PROGRESS

Each of the idols stood in small boxes waiting for their queue to come out. When they were to hear their names be called they were to come out and meet their partner. Heeseung still could not put on his tongue just who his partner was. Was it really a STARDOLL member? No, it couldn’t be. He knew they were pretty busy and too popular to even be on a reality show like this one. Why would they waste their time on something like this? He just could not pinpoint anyone else other than them and the lump in his throat was big. 

“Bunny, come on out!” The staff said, and Heeseung could hear Jungkook walking out of his box. “Bloo, come on out and meet your partner!”

“Oh my!” A girl's voice was heard and they could hear laughing in the room. “Oh my God!”

“Hello,” Jungkook said, and Heeseung’s palms became sweaty.

“Please, take a seat on one of the couches,” the staff instructed the two.

Everyone was advised to not say their names until everyone had introduced themselves and everyone’s identity was out. They were told that after the meeting they were going to sit down with their partners and play some games together and the winning team would win a prize. 

“Bambi, come on out!” Heeseung took a deep breath before coming out of his box.

He saw Karina and Jungkook on one of the small sofas and could see Karina gasping. He slightly bowed at them, Jungkook waving at him and Karina giving a small bow in return as Heeseung stood and waited for his partner.

“Bratz, come meet your partner!”

The door opened and out walked the one girl he had been dreading. Roman. His knees buckled and he almost collapsed in shock. He could hear Jungkook clapping and laughing and some other exchanges his mind numbed out.

“Oh my God!” Heeseung said. “This is crazy! You all set me up!”

The staff began to laugh and applaud as Roman walked over to Heeseung and got a good look at his face.

“Hello, I’m Roman!” She bowed and introduced herself to him to which he greeted the same. “You really do have cute eyes!”

“Oh, thank you!” He said, his face and ears were red as a tomato and he just wanted to run.

“And cut!”

FILMING: NOT IN PROGRESS.

“Wow, this is a crazy cast!” Karina spoke out. “When I met Roman earlier, I wasn’t expecting BTS! Your budget must be crazy!”

“I knew it was Jungkook,” Roman said. “I refused to be with Jungkook.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Heeseung said, coming up to Jungkook and hiding behind him. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Am I scary?” Roman pouted. 

“No, no, you’re just…you, I’m a big fan,” Heeseung said, clearing the air quickly.

“Well, think of me as your friend, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” Roman said.

“Me too, rely on me and we can be friends and have a good time,” Jungkook held out his hand to Karina and she took it and agreed.

“You too, Heeseung, right?” Roman said. 

“I’m Heeseung, from ENHYPEN,” Heeseung formally introduced himself.

“Ah, I don’t know much about that group, but you can fill me in now that we’re married,” Roman nudged him and he smiled down at her and nodded.

“It would be an honor, really. Thank you.”

[bellie1359]

Dream: The Past and Present Meet

AC blasted through the empty studio, biting through my tights and thin leotard. Barefoot, the rubbered floor took on its own form of ice but I had already spent an hour on numerous choreographies so I was warm against the room’s atmosphere. “5:42pm” read the clock above the mirror that stretched down the entirety of the wall, he was 12 minutes late. I had worked on all I could on my own so I found myself impatiently pacing up and down the room. Eventually I found myself primping in the mirror in a nervous fashion. I don’t know why I always find myself fretting over my appearance around him, but I do. “I Think He Knows” by Taylor Swift blasts loud enough I do not hear him enter. “I’m not sure if he does know, you might have to tell him” humors a deep, melodic voice behind me. I jump, startled by his sudden appearance. Dark blue eyes meet mine in the mirror, his usually brown hair was bleached blonde from spending the summer in the sun and his skin deeply tanned. Briefly, the recollection of how pale his skin could be, flickers from my memory of once long winter nights spent together years ago. My heart pounds in my chest and ears from adrenaline now coursing through me, this happens everytime. The most unique reaction anyone has been able to illicit from me, a hurricane of fear, anticipation and excitement. The feeling I’m sure drug addicts get before administering the drug, because after all, he was like my own personal brand of heroine. I fight the urge to let my lips pull up into a Cheshire Cat smile, he came, and I was beginning to believe he wouldn’t. But I refuse to give him any kind of satisfaction from having a positive affect on me. “You’re late” I quip, haughtily I whip around letting a look of disapproval paint my face, “and he does know, I tell him every day” referring to my boyfriend. “Be glad I’m here at all” he clips back, dodging the last portion of my reply. Ignoring his dig I go over to the music player and set up the queue. “Go ahead and get warmed up, I have to re-tape my ankles and knees” I say. I don’t wait to hear his reply as I go into the back. As I wrap the black sports tape around my legs, guilt naws in my gut. My boyfriend would be livid if he knew I was doing this with a guy, especially and specifically *him*. I do my best to push the conviction down, I didn’t have a choice if I was going to do this portion of the dance competition. After I was all taped up I rejoin him on the floor and find him doing pushups— typical. Ever since I’ve known him he’d randomly break out into pushups wherever he was and once upon a time watching him was one of my favourite indulgences. Now knowing it was just a ploy for attention it just annoyed me. “Get up!” I snapped, “we only have 30 minutes.” He jumps up in a fluid motion pairing it with an eye roll, “Okay but can we just work on ‘Heaven’? It’s the hardest one.” “Sure”, I concede. I put on the song that he once accompanied me to writing it with the singer. Part of its selection was due to our all to well familiarity to it. We run the song continuously, working on technique and flow adamantly to ensure perfection. “Okay, one more time”, I press. “Ugh! You’ve said that 5 times already!” he groans. “Hey, that’s a choreographer for ya. But I promise this is honestly the last, I’m getting tired too.” I say. This time we have a run with no hiccups, it was flawless and in perfect synchrony. “That was perfect!” I beam excitedly. I instinctively throw my arms around him and he returns the embrace without hesitation. As I pull away he grabs my face and kisses me fiercely. I don’t stop him, or pull away. Instead, I wake up. To My kingdom come undone.

[macaroni-and-pebbles]

Intro!

•Hello! My name is Macaroni but I usually use Critter, so you can use either :) I’ll also use just about any name you come up with for me(I got that any name trans swag).

•he/they/it pronouns. I am a transmasc-genderfaun person, and am still experimenting with names and pronouns, so forgive me if anything changes. Gender is a construct and by god am I a wrecking ball. •I’m over 18. Sexual stuff is fine just don’t sexualize me or people I know👍.

also! Please be aware, my memory is jackshit awful. If I forget to answer something or interact with you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to stop me or block me immediately.

I am canonically married to @polteergeistt<33

@yourlocalskyadmirer is my sky appreciation blog its basically just a big catalog of all my sky pics rn but you are encouraged to submit some urself :33

I like turning people into creatures from Creatures of Sonaria! Feel free to request a creature, and check out my queue to see where you are and/or how to request a creature!

some of my tags are a little funky too so have a little explanation under the cut because this post is long now lmao

#nonsensical rambling - my general post tags. This is usually just me saying whatever :P

#nonsensical ranting - like the rambling tag but for things that make me mad or upset; literally just my rant tag lmao

#critter creates - my creating tag! Usually for art, but I’ll use it whenever I make something

#the critter touches a keyboard - For the rare occasion when I end up writing something :3

#critter chirps - just my asks tag!

#critter adventures - for my little out of the house adventures :33

#critter storytime - literally storytime lolz usually random or weird things that happen to me

#Irl critter jumpscare - whenever I include a picture of me that’s more than just my hands lol

#critter in da kitchen - for whenever I’m cooking/baking!

#bug in a rug - this is when it’s past my “bedtime” lmao (ps i cannot be held accountable for anything i post after this tag starts applying because by then i am. delusional.)

#hubby x2 - for my darling dearest lovely husband☺️☺️

#random critter fun fact - this is me randomly lore dropping, can range from silly goofy to mildly ominous and ‘wtf why did this happen/why can you do this’

#random pretty pictures - I take lots of photos and need places to put them so. basically a catalog of pictures ive taken that i enjoy :33 mostly scenic stuff and sky pics!

#lunchtime rants - school sucks and i get overstimmed and pissed off frequently, so this is when im posting at lunch and angry

#back on my creaturing bullshit - I like turning people and characters into creatures from Creatures of Sonaria :33

#this is my naughty tag - general nsfw/nsft/general suggestive stuff idk

all that being said,

silly :P

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 6.11.23

Dream 1: SM and I are high school students and we are wondering around the school spending time together. We are both flirting since we have a crush on each other and with each interaction, the tension between us just builds and builds. I feel really shy around him because I like him so much. Then one day the attraction between us is so strong that he gets really close to me and says "Oh you have something here", and licks my face near my earlobe. Then he kisses me on the cheek three times. I get butterflies in my stomach. The energy between us is so palpable.

Then it's time to go get ready for some sort of formal party or fancy celebration. The entire school is getting ready for it, even the teaching faculty. Everyone has brought their formal attire along to school today, and are getting changed into it in the bathrooms now. I walk through the school trying to find a bathroom that is free so I can change into my party clothes but they're all full. There's huge lines to use the bathrooms, no matters which ones I try to enter. Then I have a thought to head to the senior girl's common room (since I am one) but once inside, I discover that of course there is a queue to use the change room here too. However, there is a peculiar system that has been devised so that each person is allowed their turn. In order to get a number in the queue, you have to 'play' for it. There is a girl sitting at a table who seems to be in charge of overseeing this. There are three dice. These dice aren't regular dice, they are white in colour and each side has a random string of 2-3 numbers with some alphabet letters thrown in sometimes as well. You're supposed to roll the three dice and whatever the letters and numbers facing up that it lands on, you have to re-arrange the string of digits so that it becomes the smallest ‘number’ possible. This then becomes your number in the line so you’d want the smallest number as it means you’d get to go sooner. You are allowed to have a go at rolling the dice, twice, and the lowest number that you procure of the two tries gets marked down as 'your' number. Then the girl somehow converts your number to corresponding tiles on a scrabble board and she connects it to someone else's number, which is connected to someone else's number etc. As I look at the board, it looks almost indistinguishable from a regular scrabble game. I see that your name gets written underneath your number to keep track of which number belongs to who. When your number is up, it's your turn to go get ready in the change rooms. I think my number starts with something like '111". I can see on the scrabble board, that the amount of ‘words’ on the board constitute that there must be at least half a dozen people waiting to use the change rooms.

Later on, maybe days later, I'm with AL and we're sitting together in a house, gossiping. I reveal to her what happened between SM and I regarding the cheek kisses. Her energy changes. She tells me that she is jealous. I’m confused because I know she doesn’t like him like that. Then she goes and randomly stands outside as if to put distance between us, so as to process things. I go out there too, to try and get her back inside. Once inside again, I tell her that what happened between him and I was a bit scandalous but I don't care since nothing matters and we're getting out of here now.

Dream 2: I had just come home from going to the gift shop. I am taking the things I had bought out of the shopping bag to inspect. I got some fake fruit, like the prop plastic kind. I have a handful of fake carrots, strawberries and apples, enough to fill a bowl to display and then some. I remark at how pretty they are. They don't look convincingly like fruit, but rather the style is that they're supposed to look artsy and whimsical and that's why I was drawn to them in the first place. The colours are very unique, almost glowing. Then I think to myself, now that I have these fake fruits I don't really know what I'm supposed to do with it. I place it all back in the bag and decide I'll do something with it later.

[pilothusband]

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie​ for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even. 

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.” 

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin. 

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree. 

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths. 

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment. 

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?” 

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.” 

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms. 

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair,  but your arms aren’t long enough to reach. 

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

 He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

 “Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

 He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing. 

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

 Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

 He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

 “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

 You moan and break the kiss.

 “Want to take this to my room?”

 He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

 You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

 You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

 “I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

 “Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

 You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

 “So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

 It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

 Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

 “So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

 You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern. 

 “No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

 You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

 Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace. 

 All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

 His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

 “Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

 You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly. 

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

 The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes. 

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Contingency Plan - Pt. 1

Bucky Barnes x 1940′s!woc!reader

|| MASTERLIST || PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 ||

Chapter Summary: In the present - Bucky receives unexpected information from his past. Meanwhile, in 1930’s New York you are trying to navigate falling in love and wanting a life with a white man while society wants segregation. Series Warnings: 18+ only, racism, violence, mature themes, swearing, smut (part 2) WC: 2k

A/N: so this idea has been lingering in my head for a while but I was worried about the reception because of some of the disgusting comments aimed at BIPOC writers and their works. In the end, I decided fuck it, if people have a problem with stories that portray real issues then that is their problem and I will just keep doing what I love which is writing. I personally have had bags searched and my pockets patted down in shops for just looking my race and I have watched my father be ‘randomly selected’ in airport queues, every.single.time I have flown with him. So, I’mma write about it as I know I’m not alone.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Bucky turned the business card over once again, finding nothing new on the brilliant white rectangle but the opulent handwriting giving him a short message. She’s alive. He didn’t even have to ask who she was, there was only one woman who had ever been important to him but she had gone missing 80 years ago, or so he thought. Grabbing his phone, he dialled the number on the business card and waited impatiently for the call to connect.

“I knew you would call soon enough, soldat.”

Bucky could imagine Zemo’s smug smile on the other end of the line and immediately wanted to punch off his face. He couldn’t understand why the man seemed so happy with the rest of his existence being spent on the Raft. That was a lie, Bucky knew that nothing would ever truly make Zemo happy, not after losing everything he held dear when Sokovia fell. Zemo was just content to one day die.

“I got your message.” Neutrality ate Bucky’s voice as he tried to stop hope seeping into his thoughts. “Now tell me why I should believe it.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Zemo chuckled and moved around his small cell. “Hydra always had a contingency plan for you, to ensure your compliance. I was kind enough to make sure she was safely moved before the tête-à-tête with Iron Man in Siberia.”

“Where is she?” Bucky growled, the glass screen of his phone threatening to crack under the strain of his grip.

“I’m glad you asked. Come and free me and I will take you to her.”

A torrent of russian curses spewed forth from Bucky’s gritted teeth and he pressed his phone to his forehead as he tried to decide just how to tell the Baron where to go fuck himself but he knew he couldn’t miss the chance of seeing you again. If it all turned out to be a lie, Bucky would just kill Zemo himself. With a defeated sigh he put the phone to his ear and hated himself for what he was about to say.

“Send me proof and you have a deal.”

“I have it on good authority that you should check your mail. I’ll be waiting.”

The line disconnected and Bucky threw his phone across the room, striking the couch before bouncing onto the thick rug on the floor. He didn’t even notice it once it left his hand, he was already dropping over the side of the staircase and dropping three flights to get to the postboxes that lined the foyer. A brown envelope was tucked inside, the same cursive handwriting spelling out his name like the business card upstairs and he tore the seal away.

Thick glossy paper slipped out and Bucky lost all ability to breathe as he flipped it over and found photographs of you. He could have believed they were taking back in the 40’s as you were exactly as he remembered you, it was only the timestamp from two days ago that told him otherwise. Your eyes were closed as you sat strapped to the chair inside a cryo chamber and it looked like you could have been sleeping peacefully.

Bucky’s finger traced the next photo that was a close up of your face, remembering the feel of the soft skin on cheeks and the ways your dark eyes would crinkle when you laughed. Carefully slipping the photo’s back in the envelope to protect them he sprinted upstairs, leaping up the landings before swiping his phone off the floor and making the call he was actually dreading.

“Cyborg, what’s up?” Sam chirped happily as he saw the caller ID.

“Uh, you’re not gonna like it.” Bucky muttered as he scratched his neck. “I kinda…need to commit a federal felony.”

“We need to work on your definition of ‘need’, ‘cause that ain’t gonna work.” Sam huffed.

“That’s not the worst part.”

“Oh, this’ll be good...” They may as well have been on a video call the way Bucky knew Sam was rolling his eyes and looking up to the sky while he prayed for strength.

“We need to break Zemo out again.”

“Firstly, there’s no ‘again’, I was not involved the last time. Now give me one good reason why I would put my ass on the line for that guy.”

“He’s got my wife.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Brooklyn, New York 1935

The innocent laugh of Rebecca scattered the birds that she chased around the park and you watched Bucky chase after her before bundling her up and giving her a piggyback ride. Steve was sitting on the picnic beside you, picking at the crust of his ham and cheese sandwich while staring at the wind rippled water of the small pond. You wanted to ask what was going through his head but given that his mothers health was deteriorating you already knew the answer.

The wind suddenly picked up and the woven hat you wore was stolen from its perch to fly across the field, Bucky noticing and taking off after it. You were too busy laughing at his comical chase to notice the group of young men approaching your spot in the shade. It wasn’t until Steve scrambled to his feet that you looked up and found what had ruffled his feathers, standing up just as quickly as he had.

“This is a good family park.” The young man who had attended Steve and Bucky’s school growled before stepping closer, dirty boots ruining your picnic blanket. “You're on the wrong side of the river.”

Steve stepped in between the men and you, his slight stature doing nothing to deter them, only amuse them. “Just leave her alone, John. We’re just having lunch and this is a free country the last time I checked.”

“Always the peacemaker.” John snickered and ran his fist over his mouth. “How’s that split lip treating ya?”

Steve refused to back down or rise to the taunt reminding him of the still healing cut from their last run in, instead he held his bruised chin high and rolled his shoulders for what he knew was coming. “Don’t even notice it.”

John’s fist shot out and socked Steve on the chin, his head rocking back from the force but he stayed on his feet. Your hands flew to your mouth as the violence broke out and you stifled the cries that were building before a streak of dark hair shot past you and tackled John to the ground. Steve was breathing heavily as he wiped the fresh blood away from his lip and he stepped over to the spot where Bucky was sitting on top of John, pounding fists into the swollen mass of his face.

“That’s. My. Fucking. Girlfriend.” Bucky spat between punches, only stopping when you both heard the whimpers of Rebecca as she watched her big brother beat the shit out of someone.

“Come ‘ere, sweetie.” You said as you pulled her into your side and hid her face from the gnarly sight. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Get him out of here.” Bucky ordered the other young men he had gone to school with. “I don’t wanna see any of you around here again, got it?”

They grumbled an acknowledgement as they picked up a semi-conscious John and began to drag him away. Bucky’s broad shoulders blocked your view of their retreating figures and you flinched as he touched your cheek, feeling the wet tears you hadn’t realised had leaked out. His blue eyes were full of concern as he brushed the tears away and cradled your cheeks in his hands.

“They’re gone, doll. You’re alright.” He promised before pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you, finding his sister hidden behind you and pulling her into the hug.

“Why were they being so mean?” Rebecca asked you with wide eyes.

“They are just small minded jackasses, Becs.” Bucky said as he caught you biting your lip, wondering how to explain racism to the little girl that loved everyone.

“They think they are better than people like me because they’re white.” You sighed, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Are they?”

The question was just the words of an innocent child but it still hurt that she had to ask.

“No!” Bucky growled a little too gruffly and his sister pushed herself back into the shelter of your side.

“We are one world, one people.” You said softly. “No one is better than anyone else, and anyone who says otherwise isn’t worth listening to. Now, we should get the boys home, I need to tend to their wounds.”

“What wounds?” Steve joked, holding a blood covered napkin to his nose.

The tension disappeared with his misplaced humour and you exhaled a laugh before packing up the picnic and heading towards Bucky’s apartment. Most of your free time was spent at the small two bedroom flat he had inherited when his father died. When you weren’t working as a nurse at the nearby hospital, you were there looking after Rebecca so Bucky could work down at the docks.

Steve declined your offer to stitch his split lip back together, citing ‘the scar will give me character’ as his excuse before heading home to look after his sick mother. That left just the three of you, with Becca quickly heading to her room to play with her toys while you grabbed the first aid tin. A small hiss made it past Bucky’s pursed lips as you dabbed rubbing alcohol over the cuts on his knuckles and you offered a small commiserating smile before packing it all up again.

The old couch springs squeaked as you took a seat and adjusted the cushion so your dress didn’t get caught on the handful of springs that had pierced the linen fabric. Bucky had already lifted his arm up as you took the seat and he relaxed it back down and across your shoulders, pulling you closer so he could kiss your temple. You still had time before your evening shift started so you cosied into his embrace and closed your eyes for a moment.

“Will you marry me?”

You weren’t sure if you had imagined the words while you were balanced on the edge of sleep but when he repeated them you shot upright, startling him at the same time.

“Bucky, we’ve been through this.” You sighed.

“I know, I know.” He echoed your slow exhale.

It had taken months for the neighbours to stop giving you the sideline looks every time you entered the building, but after George died in a training exercise they begrudgingly accepted you were helping James and Rebecca learn to live as orphans.

“I’ll sell the place. We can move somewhere else, anywhere.”

“I love you, Buck, and if this were another time or place I would marry you in a heartbeat.” His bright eyes fell to your hands that held his own and he pulled away. “Look at your knuckles, Steve’s face, hell, Becca was absolutely terrified at what happened today. Do you want her to go through that every single day?”

“I…I just want to be with you, as your husband. Shouldn’t a man be able to marry the woman he loves?” His hands grabbed yours and raised them to his lips, soft kisses peppering your knuckles. “Please, doll, we can make it through whatever else comes our way, as long as I’ve got you.”

Your will was eroded by his ocean eyes and you crumbled like a sandcastle upon the shore. Before you knew it your head was nodding and he bit his lip in disbelief as you said yes. You couldn’t even think beyond that moment, the pure elation on his face was something you hadn’t seen since before the news of his father broke. You couldn’t spare a thought to fear what may come of your answer but instead you bathed in the sunlight he brought to your life and committed the feel to memory for the dark days you knew would come.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Part two click HERE

[symphonicmetal101]

Over-Tired OM Boys HCs

Here's the initial thing that got me started thinkin bout the boys, but here ya go-

Lucifer

- this man, once he hits overtired, is extremely gullible, which is why he locks himself in his office until hes done what needs to be done

- also cannot keep a train of thought for more than 20 seconds and it drives him nuts

- and then he loses his focus even more because he's upset

- you tried knocking on the door once, and told him when you closed your eyes, you couldnt see and needed to go to the doctor

- man went from frustrated to concerned in a heartbeat, only after opening the door realizing how foolish he had just come across

- but now the door was open and you had access to him, and reluctantly he let you drag him to bed

- Will deny it ever happened, and if you bring it up, expect a punishment.

- Though he is grateful you made him rest so he would not become the laughingstock of his brothers

Mammon

- over tired bby will ramble until he forgot what he was talking about and space out for a solid ten seconds before snapping back

- it doesnt matter if you're listening intently or only half listening, he makes no sense what so ever.

- If you can record him without him noticing you (which is easy to do in this state) and play it back once he's rested he's either facepalming and blushy for the nonsense he spewed or he managed to pick out what he may have been trying to say and gets super excited, going off on another more understandable tangent.

- Gaming is a priority

Levi

- Sleeping is not

- Levi usually ends up just tired, not wired but dear lord when he does-

- All that energy and passion he pours into the way he speaks about anime and manga?

- Its physical now...oh and hes slightly more extroverted

- Though its a rare sight, over tired Levi works out and rambles about whatever it was that made him stay up that long, and hes doing it all in your room

Satan

- Over tired Satan is a rare sight, though it happens often, as he holes up in his room

- He gets an impulse to clean, and will tidy and clean and organize his books, though it never lasts

- and theres no escape, he will start crying if he feels you arent paying attention or if you're about to leave

- Depending on who you are, he either becomes 10000000% testier, or hes a giggly mess, there is no in between

Asmo

- Finds everything funny, but will get pouty if it came from someone he doesnt really like

- Over tired Asmo is rare, likely the rarest of all the boys to see, save for Barbatos

- but he is a chaotic little fucker

- dear god

- He will raid the fridge and pantry worse than Beel, specifically when hes on a diet-

- Then MC you're either in for one hell of a story from Asmo, most of them his not-so-proud drunk moments that he never talks about for that reason but he cant stop himself-

-his laugh sounds even more high pitched than normal, and a little maniacal, and he finds everything he says hilarious

- you will go on an adventure probably

Beel

- spaces out randomly, and also cries easily, dont point this put to him and say yes to his adventures, he'll change his mind a thousand times on the way- just go with it

- overtired Beel happens quite a bit, usually after the victory of a game and the adrenaline starts to wear off- and then he still has stuff to do

- but instead of "oh" and maybe a small laugh when he realizes what happened its more ".....oh" and then he looks like he's having an existential crisis

- you will have to physically lead him to bed after that, he's too busy thinking and slowly eating whatever is in his hand

- he snacks to keep himself awake, and poor himbo man is even more gullible than usual

- will want to cuddle, but wont ask when hes like this

Belphie

- out like a bulb immediately

- The Avatar of Sloth? Over tired? yes it happens unfortunately-

- He gets even grumpier than usual because he can’t sleep

- Then at night its just restless tossing and turning

- yes even the seemingly flawless butler gets overtired, but opposite of Asmo, he is far better at concealing it

- Usually happens when he intentionally sleeps through important meetings and days for Lucifer back to back to back

- It’s another excuse to hold you though, so he might make himself over tired more often

Barbatos

- You will see him stifle yawns

- And when given instructions, his eyes widen slightly with concentration as he whispers the instructions over and over under his breath so nobody can hear, but its clear his lips are moving

- he cannot be bribed

- he can be intimidated though, and how you ask?

- “threaten” to go tell Beel or Dia because you know full well if they were asked, they would carry Barb back to his quarters if you can’t do so on your own-

- no he will not sleep

- Usually that’s enough to convince him, but you have to stay near to make sure he doesn’t leave until he’s well-rested, otherwise he’ll leave as soon as possible and try to get back to work

- buuuut if you’re “on guard” or in bed with him- well he might have a few extra minutes or hours to spend with you

Diavolo

- overtired Diavolo is rather rare, as Barbatos is very strict with the prince's schedule

- Still though if Diavolo truly wants to keep going...all Barb can do is prepare for the future

- Which uh...just means being able to drag the prince to his quarters

- If you thought he was lively before, being overtired is kinda like giving caffiene to a squirrel for him

- Until he suddenly crashes....which, depending on how you like his company, can be unfortunate as his kick can last for hours

Simeon

- Simeon goes into zombie mode when he's overtired

- He hates to admit it, but it tales every oumce of strength to not fall asleep in the middle of classes

- Not that Luke would let him

- He's a little dazy, a little slow, but even just a power nap gets the angel going again

Luke

- Babie boy, don't stay up with the big kids-

- an overtired ten year old follows a certain progression

- grumpy, denial in need of sleep, chatterbox, chatterbox, chatterbox, chatt- oh he fell asleep in the middle of his sentence

- will not acknowledge anything in the morning, even as he walks out of his bedroom instead of the random place he slept, instead carrying on the conversation he left half finished the night before

Solomon

- hah

- he has spells

- who needs sleep?

- bastard also pushes himself too far, but disguises it with more ease than anyone else, at least until its just the two of you

- He tends to run his hand through his hair more often, fidgets more

- hes a little jumpy too, so continue with caution if you dont want to be turned into a frog-

Anyways, I know its been a hot minute since I posted anything really uh...substantial? I guess this will have to do?? I'm going to be travelling for a bit, so I apologize for slow updates, also dont have the patience to make a queue

Thank y'all for supporting me anyways, it means a lot!! Keep an eye out for the next OC Hunger Games~

Love ya!!

Masterlist

[wholesomemendes]

Omg congrats on 1k🥳🥳 concept- a blurb about love languages and like ur guys styles are diff lil angst pls heheheh

Author's Note: Hiiiiiii. How are you lovies? I know you probably all hate me cause I just disappeared but hopefully this will kinda make up for it for those of you who are actually still here. Fun fact never used the queue before so we'll see how that goes. Also I vaguely remember the read more thing not working that well with asks, but I don't remember what I used to do to fix that so hopefully this works. Love all of you and miss you *mwah* please interact with me so I get more motivation lol

The second the door shuts to the condo you share with your love, you can already hear his unmistakable voice call out for you, “Baby, come here! I have a surprise for you!” You roll your eyes, knowing that some insanely expensive gift was probably waiting for you around that corner. Shawn wasn’t the type to randomly spend a large portion of his money on things he didn’t need, but when it came to you, there was no limit to his spending. Anytime he saw something that reminded him of you or that he thought you’d look stunning in, he couldn’t stop himself from swiping his card. It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate the copious amount of gifts he gave you; you knew he meant well and that one of his love languages was giving gifts. However, as someone who was raised to be independent and not accept “handouts” from anyone, you found it hard to be constantly given things you didn’t work for and you didn’t believe you deserved yet. You didn’t find it fair that you weren’t at that stage in your life where you could gift Shawn something as expensive as what he gives you, but you constantly get those things from him. It wouldn’t have phased you as much if it was just for holidays, but this was an almost every other day occurrence and no matter how many times you told him not to buy things for you, he never seemed to listen.

You sighed, putting your purse on the table and making your way towards the bedroom, desperately wishing you could just relax into a warm bath after your hard day at work instead of facing whatever your loving boyfriend had in store for you. Opening the door you were met with Shawn’s smiling face, a large box with the word Gucci written in bold lettering across it. You put on a fake smile as your heart sank. This couldn’t be what you thought it was could it? “Hey,” he put the box next to him in favor of pulling you onto his lap, “How was work today?” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips and for a moment, you let yourself get pulled into the utter bliss that was Shawn Mendes.

“I won’t lie, not the greatest,” you sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Why, what happened?” he asked, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer.

“It was just insane today and my boss was in a bad mood and...I don’t know it was just bad and I’m exhausted.”

“Well, I think I have something that might cheer you up!”

“Shawn…,” you said in a mix of a whine and a stern tone, “I told you no more.”

“I know, I know,” he rushed out, placing the box in your hands, “I just want to spoil my girl. I can afford to do so and there’s no one else that deserves it more than you do.” It hurt your heart to hear him talk like that when not a single part of you felt you deserved it. You were nowhere close to where you wanted to be in your life career wise and you certainly weren’t near Shawn’s level of success. “Just open it, please?” he gave you his softest puppy dog eyes that always made you cave.

“Ok…” Opening up the box your heart stopped. There lying in the delicate paper was one of the most beautiful handbags you had ever seen; the one you had secretly been saving up for for almost a year now. You thought you had hid it from him so well, always looking at it when he wasn’t there to make sure you could still get it, and even putting together a small envelope of extra money to use towards it. This was supposed to be your first big designer purchase in honor of your huge promotion at work a little under a year ago today, but of course Shawn had to go and ruin it all for you.

Meanwhile, Shawn was oblivious to the disappointment and resentment brewing inside of you. “Do you like it?” he asked with the biggest smile, “I noticed the tab open on your computer last week when I borrowed it for those pictures and thought you liked it!”

“Why would you do this?” you whispered, a crack forming in your voice.

“What?”

“Why would you do this?” you almost snapped at him, looking at him with tears that held mixed emotions.

“B- because I love you,” he stammered, not having prepared to have this reaction. In his head you were going to come home, see the gift, smother him in thank you kisses, and maybe, just maybe, you would make love to him for the rest of the night. Never in his wildest dreams did it end up like this.

“If you loved me you would have listened to me and not bought this, or anything for that matter!” you exclaimed as you stood up off his lap, “I’ve told you so many times I don’t want you buying anything for me but you never listen!”

“I- I’m sorry, I just thought…”

“No that’s the thing, you didn’t think! I just- god, Shawn, this was it, the one thing I was going to do for myself after all these years. I was only $100 away from my goal, I was right there! But you can’t just think with your head for one second and think about how your girlfriend who always tells you that you don’t need to buy things for her might be planning on finally achieving one of her goals of having enough money to spend it on something like this!”

If your eyes weren’t filled with tears and you weren’t so blinded by your emotions you might have been able to see Shawn’s heart visibly breaking on the bed, leaving him looking like a hurt puppy. “I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’ll, I’ll return the bag or or you can pay me back for it so it’s like you bought it yourself!”

“You don’t understand because you’ve never had any problems with money. It’s not the same anymore, Shawn. No matter what, all I’ll be reminded of is that you bought it first and not me.”

“What can I do? I, I swear I’ll do anything,” his voice cracked as his own tears filled his eyes.

“I don’t, I don’t know. I need to go.” You knew you were being dramatic, but after 2 years of the same thing with Shawn over and over again you had reached your breaking point.

“No please, I’ll fix this I promise,” he pleaded, standing up to face you.

You successfully avoided him so you could grab a small bag with your things, “Shawn, I need space for at least one night.”

He reached out for you this time, his large hand grabbing your arm desperately to turn you around, “Please, don’t go. I won’t buy you anything else, I swear!”

“It’s not that I just, I don’t know. I’m upset and I’m tired and my head is all over the place and…” His large hands cupped your jaw and pressed his lips hard against yours, giving you no space to pull away. The slight taste of salt from both of your tears on your lips broke your heart more than it was before. It was hard to explain why you weren’t fighting him on this kiss; it was almost as if he was kissing you so that it was easier to let you go for the night.

His lips released yours reluctantly with a sigh, “I’ll pack my things for the night. You stay here.”

“Shawn…”

“No, I was the one who messed up so I should be the one who has to leave. I still have a backpack I never unpacked from when I got back from LA last week and I can stay with my parents for however long you want. I- ,” he looked down shamefully, his hands finally dropping from your face. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you happy, but I wasn’t even thinking of what would really make you happy. Just, just tell me when you’re ready for me to come back home.”

He made his way through the bedroom, grabbing his phone, wallet, backpack and guitar before making his way through the door. Your heart cried out to go after your love, but your feet stayed planted almost in shock of everything that just happened. You were still mad at him, upset with him, and if it was possible, even more upset and mad at yourself. So as much as you wanted to run after him, you let him walk away with half your heart in his hands.

____________________________

“Mom?” you sniffled as you sat on the edge of your bed, the infamous handbag discarded next to you as if it was taunting you.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” the soft voice of your mother filled the speaker.

“I messed up,” you confessed, “I really messed up and I don’t...I don’t…”

“Take a deep breath, dear, and tell me what happened. I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“I don’t know if it can. I’m a horrible person!”

“You are not a horrible person. Now tell me exactly what happened.”

She listed carefully as a mother does while you went through moment through moment of your lash out with Shawn, up until the point where he left. “I feel terrible, Mom. This was just the one thing I had planned to do for myself and he never took into account how I would feel about this even though I constantly tell him how I feel about gift giving.”

“Sweetheart, I know you so badly want to be an independent woman and there’s nothing wrong with that. But you’re in a relationship now which means not everything you do can be independent. Think about it from his point of view: all of these things he gets you he gets out of love. He doesn’t do it because he wants you to rely on him for money, he knows you’re not with him for that and it’s probably one of the reasons he loves you so much; you treat him like a regular person. Not someone who is just a pretty face that can buy you whatever you want and get you fame. However, he is someone with money and that means he can afford these things for you. It’s not to belittle any of your accomplishments in your career or financially because we both know how supportive he is of you. It’s simply because he wants to show you he’s thinking about you and spoil you to make you happy. I know gifts aren’t one of your main love languages, but it’s definitely one of his. I bet if you had told him about this bag and how much it meant to you instead of hiding it from him, he would have never dreamed of taking it away from you. I understand your immediate frustration, but maybe think about if you’re truly upset with him about this or if you’re upset with yourself for not being able to reciprocate.”

“You’re right, Mom.”

“Of course I’m right, I’m your mother!” she let out a light hearted laugh, “But seriously, go apologize to that boy. He’s probably beating himself up over this.”

____________________________

“Are you and Dad home right now?”

“Yes, why is something wrong?”

“Can’t I just be coming over to say hello?”

“Of course you can, but I can tell by your voice that something is wrong.”

A sad smile formed on his face at the fact that even over a car speaker, his mom was still able to read him like a book. “Y/n and I got into a fight.”

“Oh no,” his mother gasped, never hearing many difficulties between the two, “What happened?”

“It’s my fault, Mom, I was being selfish,” he replied defeated, his guilty heart weighing down on him, “You know how I love to give gifts right? Well, Y/n isn’t always the biggest fan of it because she loves being independent. But I can’t help it! She’s the first person who hasn’t been overjoyed over every gift I give her and I never understand because I just want her to be happy and I know they’re things she would like so...I just don’t think! I don’t know why I can’t take a hint and just do what she wants me to do! I just want to make her happy, Mom, and feel loved and all I’ve done is annoy her and upset her!”

“Ok, before you keep going on this self-deprecated spiral, I need you to tell me what happened. And no more blaming yourself until I’ve heard everything.” So he did. And just like the conversation unfolding back at his home, his own mother listened to every word he had to say.

“From my understanding,” she began, “And I’m not saying this to try to defend you, but it sounds like she is battling some problems of her own.”

“No, you don’t understand, I wasn’t listening to her…”

“Oh will you hush! I wasn’t finished. Could you lay off the gifts and make them every once in a while? Of course. However, I believe her outburst today had something to do with some financial conflicts she is facing and maybe just an overall bad mood. You’re not perfect, obviously you need to tone down the gifts just a little bit, but you were definitely not in the full wrong here. There was no way she could have expected you to know about her intentions and plans so you can’t blame that on yourself. She definitely felt that she had to hide it from you in fear that you wouldn’t listen, which might be another issue if she believes that you aren’t willing to budge on your point of view. But you should not go beating yourself up over this! She’ll come around to her senses and you two will be fine.”

“Thank you, Mom. I hope so, I miss her already,” Shawn pouted, wishing so desperately that he was driving back home instead of away from it.

“Of course. Now I’ll make sure your room is all ready for whenever you get here and I’ll stay up to give you a big hug. How does that sound?”

“Amazing, I’ll be there in…” the sight of your name popping up on his center console broke him from his thoughts, “Wait, Mom, she’s calling me. I’ll call you back.”

“Good luck honey!”

With shaky hands, he hit answer on the phone, “Shawn?”

Even just hearing his name out of your mouth brought him comfort, “Yes? Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“No, I’m fine. I mean I’m not fine, but physically I’m fine. Anyways, I’m going to ramble so I’ll just try to say this quick before I stray too far away from what I was going to say and before I get myself even more worked up again because who knows how long…”

“Y/n,” he stopped you, knowing you would ramble on forever, “Why did you call me?”

“Please come home.” His heart nearly lept out of his chest at your words, not needing to hear anymore. “I’m so sorry, Shawn. I should never have lashed out at you and…”

“Don’t say anything else. I don’t want to do this over the phone. I love you, please don’t apologize and I’ll be home in half an hour.”

“But, Shawn…”

“I love you and I’ll see you soon.” With that he hung up the phone and sped his way back through the Toronto streets to the girl he loved most.

____________________________

The second you heard the door open you ran to launch your body into his arms, abandoning your previous post of walking holes in the floor. He gladly accepted you against him, holding you tight in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” you pleaded, new tears rimming at your eyes, “Please forgive me.”

“Shushh, we both can apologize in a second. I just want to hold you.” Shawn maneuvered the two of you back onto your bed with you in his lap, still clinging onto him for dear life. He felt your tears wetting his shirt and while it broke his heart to know you were

hurting, he hoped that being close to you for these few more moments would show that he wasn’t mad at you. After a couple minutes passed, he loosened his grasp on you, “Y/n look at me.” You did as told, revealing your tearful eyes to him. “I’m not mad at you,” he promised as he wiped your tears away, “I’m not upset with you in any way. I forgive you for whatever you feel you need to be forgiven for and I hope you can say the same with me.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for!” you protested, “You did nothing but try to show me love and make me happy and I’m so sorry I couldn’t look past my own selfish issues. Talking with my mom made me realize that the reason I have always been so apprehensive to receiving your gifts is because I’m not at the point in my career that I thought I would be and I'm letting out my resentment at myself on you. I know how wrong that is of me and I am so sorry for it. There’s nothing wrong with you expressing your love through gifts and I can’t express how sorry I am for making you believe that you were the issue.”

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I should have talked with you about this and taken into account how you didn’t respond the same way as my friends and family when I give them things and should have taken a step back. I realize my gifts are excessive and I will work to tone them back so they are more special. I love you, Y/n. Even being away from you for an hour after a fight was too much for me to bear.”

“I love you, too. I hated being away from you more than anything.” He kissed your lips passionately, transferring every emotion he had for you into that kiss. Hands caressed your body as yours held him tighter in fear of him disappearing and neither of you wanted to relive this night ever again. “Shawn?” you whispered against his lips, receiving a hum in response, “Thank you for the bag. I can’t wait to tell everyone how my loving and thoughtful boyfriend got it for me.”

“You don’t have to, I can return it.”

“Return it? This is my dream bag and the fact that you wanted to get it for me because you could tell I wanted it means a lot even though I had the absolute worst way of showing it.”

“Stop,” he kissed you again, “I don’t want you to worry about it any longer. Let me just love on you how I had planned tonight.” And while it might not have been the way Shawn had planned the night to go, he was ending it exactly how he wanted to.

[arrthurpendragon]

OC Community Building Stuff

 I’ve been researching how to make communities work and pondering how to apply practices to the OC Community for a few weeks now..  I’m gonna say some things that not everyone will agree with.  You’re more than welcome to unfollow me, but please don’t send me hate.

What helps make a strong community? Or make a community work? Literally the first thing you Google will tell you:

Recognition

Team Outings

Fitness / Sports Teams

Volunteering

Purpose-designed spaces

I’ve been in the community for awhile now and I’ll give you my take on things.  It doesn’t mean that it is the only take on the piece, but here’s what I’ve noticed in my nearly 7 years here on Tumblr.

1. Recognition - everyone reblogs those posts that say you should “reblog people’s art/fics” But from what I’ve seen, most people never take that to heart and put the work in themselves. Some expect people to see that post and then to reblog their stuff. But it’s a two-way street. People then will complain that it shouldn’t be tit-for-tat but what world have you been living in? Most things come at a price. For most people (in case you haven’t noticed, life isn’t always fair), you have to put in what you want out of it.

How to fix this issue? Reblog people’s stuff.  I have met people out there who are more willing to reblog my stuff because I reblog their stuff. Like people’s stuff.  Review people’s fics.  Send them asks.  Follow random new blogs that seem OC they will likely follow you back (I know for fact this is true. Not everyone but many) 

You have to help foster the experience you want. If you want recognition, try your hardest to recognize others.

2. Team Outings - I think this is one thing some people are already doing in a sense.  Giveaways. Read & Reviews. Review exchanges. I think our problem is that we are burning out the people who take the time to do this for the communities.

How do we fix this issue? Host a giveaway or exchange.  Spread it around so that we aren’t burning out our OC community friends.  Maybe you can’t make graphics, that’s okay!  You can still host and see all the cool things.  OR host a review exchange. The more events that different people make, the more people that can feel welcome.  Maybe one person isn’t comfortable with person A but they are with person B - it’s not competition - it’s just another opportunity.

MAKE SURE YOU DO NOT TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE PEOPLE HOSTING! it doesn’t hurt you to say thank you.  As someone who hosts quite frequently the number of people who don’t say thank you is astonishing and usually those are the people who tend to ask and ask and ask.  

Make sure people know they are appreciated! I rarely - RARELY felt appreciated when queuing stuff for ocappreciation.  Most people would come to be like “you made a mistake” but not realizing that fingers slip, that people try their best, that people don’t put information on the post and I have to guess.  But I RARELY got a thank you for reblogging the posts.  People just expected it because it was tagged, like they were entitled to ocappreciation - hence why I stepped back several times.  (May try to restart it again, but I digress)

3. Fitness / Sports Teams - This one was a bit harder to qualify in the OC community, I’ll fully admit. BUT what it boils down to is a people you like to spend your time with. These are called friends. Do you work out with every person in your acquaintance? No.  Just because you aren’t in a “friend group” doesn’t mean it’s exclusive. Honestly, for the most part if you approach someone in the community, they’ll reciprocate. But again, everyone expects someone to recognize them struggling.  Imma be honest, I haven’t felt like I’ve had “close friends’ here on Tumblr until maybe the past year or two and I’ve been here for almost 7 years. You don’t always find your niche right away. But I don’t hold any malice or hate toward anyone.  Anyone is welcome to approach me.

How do we fix this issue? Be patient and try to find your people. You might not “fit in” with a certain group and THAT’S OKAY!  They don’t have to be your besties, they can be acquaintances that you are nice to.  That’s how it works in real life too. Don’t expect everyone to be your best friend. But stilll be kind to people and respect other people. If you want to be friends with someone because you think they’re cool - reach out to them. Chances are, they might be looking for a friend too, but a lot of us are introverts are afraid to make the first move.  Someone’s gotta make it - or everyone is gonna be miserable.

4. Volunteering - I feel I covered most of this heavily in #1 & 2. Randomly go review someone’s fic without prompting. Send them an ask (it can even be on anon) Reblog other people’s stuff. Join a discord group. Thanks people. Host a giveaway or exchange. It takes everyone to build a community.

5 Purpose-designed spaces -  There are SO many oc blogs, whether is is ocappreciation, allaboutocs, or other fandom-related blogs...

*side note interact with those blogs too so people know they aren’t wasting their time reblogging and queueing stuff because it can be burdensome*

There are also Discord groups - you just gotta find them. Maybe if you read this and have an OC discord group, just say in the notes that you have one if people are welcome to join.

In conclusion, to improve this community there is something almost everyone in the community can work to strive to do better.  But we can’t let only a few people be the ones to do all the work and then burn out.

If you’re fed up with “the community” then try to help fix it instead of complaining about it.  I bet if we worked on these 5 things, we could make the OC Community a better place.

[yer-cute-when-you-scream]

Unsuspecting Activities~ Jung Jaehyun

WARNINGS: Smut, Hair Pulling, Rough Sex, Almost Being Caught 587 Times. (I’m probably forgetting something)

Request:  Husband Jaehyun being denied by you and also because family members are walking in on them until he snaps mad Jaehyun with extra hair pulling

A/N: I’m back from the dead, this was requested a long while back and I had finished it and then forgot the hair pulling so I wrote that in literally last minute so I’m so sorry if you feel it doesn't have enough of that in here. I have been sick so that's why I haven't posted in a bit, but I'm putting a Got7!Prince in the queue for tomorrow! 

I kept glancing over towards my husband, Jaehyun, taking in how gorgeous he looks when he isn't even trying. The black jeans he wore fit him so nicely, his shirt was unbuttoned at the top so his chest peeked out of it, and a silver chain adorned his neck.

My family was having a cookout and Jaehyun and I decided to come, unaware of the fact that I would randomly get horny in the middle of it.

My inner thighs felt warm, my panties were sticky from arousal and they clung to me uncomfortably. Jaehyun finally looked over to me and smiled, I motioned for him to come here and he did, I grabbed his hand and led him into the house.

”Babe, where are we going?” Jaehyun asked confusedly, but never slowing his pace. ”To my old bedroom,” I reply before opening the door to said room.

It still had most things from when I was a teenager, my parents still don't know what they want to do with this room yet so they just left it alone.

After shutting the door I turn around and pull Jaehyun closer to me, a smirk appears on his face as realization finally hits him.

”You're horny, aren't you?”

I nod then pull him into a heated kiss, our tongues explore each other's mouths and begin to make us needier. My hand hovers over his bulge and I start palming him through his pants, a small groan leaves his mouth and his hands go to my ass.

Pleasure was written all over his face as I kept rubbing him and bringing him closer to the edge.

Footsteps came down the hall and I jerked my hand away and turned around before he could release, my body blocked the view of his pants so no one could see his boner.

The door opened and revealed my sister, she raised a question, ”Hey, what are you doing in here?”

”Oh, I was just showing Jaehyun my old room, he has never seen it before,” I answered, surprised at myself that I didn't stutter.

She understandably nodded and closed the door, her steps fading down the hall. I turn back around and see how red Jaehyun’s face is, I choke on a laugh and he glares at me.

”You should see your face,” I giggled, he rolled his eyes at me and pulled me close to him again.

”Haha so funny...now where were we?”

He holds my face with one hand while the other holds my waist, backing up until my back is against the wall. This time I unbutton his pants then slide my hand into his underwear, wrapping my hand around his length and slowly pumping it.

”Shit, I need you so badly Baby.”

His lips found their way to mine, he let out a harsh exhale into the kiss then moved his hands to my breasts, softly massaging them through my clothes.

Once again, our movements froze when we heard footsteps coming down the hall, Jaehyun quickly fixed his pants and I opened the closet door next to us.

The bedroom door opened, this time revealing my mom, her voice was cheerful as she sparked a question, ”I was wondering where you two went.”

A small chuckle leaves my mouth as I pretend to look through the closet, ”I was looking for one of my photo albums I left here.”

”Oh, I think they're in a blue container up there.”

Jaehyun immediately reaches to grab it as I tell my mother we would be out in a bit, after she walks away I walk over and shut the door. ”That was a close one,” Jaehyun states, he puts the container down and comes closer to me. 

Lust clouded his eyes, he presses his lips against my neck as I loosen his pants again, nibbling softly at my skin. He slipped his hand under the sundress I wore and rubbed my clit through my soaked panties, I sighed in pleasure and pushed his pants to his ankles. 

Dropping to my knees, I lick a long stripe along his length before taking all of him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around his tip every now and then. Jaehyun grips my hair and throws his head back, ”Fuck, Baby,” he moaned out. 

I hallowed my cheeks out and bobbed my head back and forth at a quicker pace, Jaehyun’s breathing is rapid. 

”Baby, I'm gonna-” 

His sentence is cut short as my name is called once again, I remove him from my mouth and stand up, Jaehyun rolls his eyes and pulls his pants up with a huff. He hides behind the door and I open the door with an annoyed look on my face, my sister stops in her tracks and raises her eyebrows. 

”When are you coming back?” she asks. 

”Jaehyun and I are having a serious discussion, can you please give us like thirty minutes? It's important.” 

”Oh, I'm sorry, I'll let you guys continue your talk.” 

She quickly walks away and Jaehyun shuts the door, this time locking it, he picks me up, causing me to squeal as I wrap my legs around his waist. 

”I’m so sick and tired of being interrupted,” he grunts and takes me to the bed, ”I just want to fuck my wife and finally get the release I've been deprived of.” He drops his pants and lifts my dress up, pushing my panties to the side, ”Fuck, you're so wet,” he groans as he rubs his head against my entrance, making me whimper. 

He harshly pushes into me and grips my hips, thrusting in and out of me before I adjusted. My hand covers my mouth to muffle my moans, an intense pleasure began to course through my body and I knew everyone would hear me if I didn't cover my mouth. 

”What’s the matter, Babe? Getting to be too much for you already?” Jaehyun grunts as he deeply pounds into me. 

I mewl against my hand and scratch down his arms with my other, wrapping my legs around him to pull him closer. My body shook beneath him as I felt a pit in my stomach, and Jaehyun could tell by the way my eyes screwed shut. 

He halts his movements and grabs my face, a dark look in his eyes, “Don’t you dare cum yet,” he growled in my ear. 

I look up at him with wide eyes, his jaw was clenched and his aura almost seemed merciless. He pulled out of me and with one hand on my hip flipped me onto my stomach, wasting no time to penetrate me again. 

A frantic gasp left my mouth and I buried my head into the bed, the feeling of hips rocking into me was invigorating. My head was quickly lifted by force, Jaehyun had his hands tangled in my hair, “God, you feel so fucking good.”

My mouth hung open as I tried to choke down my moans, the way he was brutally thrusting into me and pulling my hair had me delirious and I was soon feeling that pit build up in my stomach again.

“Baby, please let me cum!” I pleaded through a moan.

I could tell he was close as well and my pleas only brought him closer to edge, Jaehyun moved his other hand to my throat and squeezed the sides of it, growling as his pace sped up.

”Cum for me.”

His words were more than enough for me to release the orgasm I desperately wanted, pure ecstasy washed over my body, my moans were silent as Jaehyun choked me. He grunted loudly and emptied his load inside of me, sloppily thrusting as we rode our highs out together. 

He removed his hand from my throat and helped me turn back around, he deeply kissed me and began to pet my hair.

”We should get back out there,” he sighed, pulling out of me and tugging his pants up. Sitting up, I agreed, smoothing my dress out before smiling at him. 

I pulled him by his shirt closer to me and he chuckled, ”Hopefully, we can continue more of this when we get home,” I suggested. The quick smirk that appeared on his face showed lust, but it changed into a sweet smile. 

”Of course, Babe.”

Jaehyun held my hand as we walked back out, everyone unsuspecting of of the activities that took place in my old bedroom. We continued stealing glances from each other for the rest of the time we stayed.

[zawasdarkcirclez]

How Bakusquad Asks You to Prom

Mina Ashido:

-Mina’s definitely got something really pretty planned

-She’s most likely a little dressed up with a cute little dress on

-This is all taking place in the common area

-Everybody besides you knew what was happening and were hiding in the corners of the room and against the wall

-Aizawa was even there claiming that he felt most comfortable if there was a teacher and adult present with all of these candles burning Mina, Denki, and Sero filled him in one day when he was trying to grade papers

-In reality though, he just wanted to be there to see how it would play out after hearing all the talk about it

-Y’all do be his kids after all

-You keep getting texts from Mina and everyone telling you Aizawa is calling everybody to the commons right now and that you’re late as hell

-You’re out of breath running to the room and realize you don’t see the lights on from where you stand

- Walking in however, you’re greeted with soft jazz music

-Mina standing in the middle of the room with a bouquet of flowers

-In front of her on the floor are candles spelling out “Prom?”

-Not gonna lie she’s a little nervous

-Fingers fiddling for sure

“HEY-uh Y/n.. PROM??“

-You said yes no doubt. Sorry I don’t make the rules

-You were literally stunned, she looked amazing, everything looked so cute, the effort was there. CONGRATULATIONS you won

-Everybody of course had to then hop out from the darkness of the room cheering and recording as you and Mina hug

-Queue Denki + Sero dapping each other up

-Midoriya tearing up

-Mineta full on crying because Mina is now taken

-Todoroki still standing by the wall 🧍‍♂️

-You and Mina definetly had some of the best prom fits

Katsuki Bakugo:

-You were already dating Katsuki, leading him to believe you were well aware that you were going to prom with him

-So when he overheard Momo ask you about plans for prom and you responded saying

-”Oh, prom? ...I’m not really sure I’m doing all that.”

-He was STOMP.ING over and Momo was tiptoeing away not wanting to get caught in another one of his outbursts

-”What the hell do you mean you’re not doing that?!”

-”You don’t want to go with me or what?!”

-”Did I do something? If I made you upset, you should have said something, Dumbass!!”

-”Actually, you know what, I don’t care! You’re going.”

-”With me!”

-You rolled your eyes jokingly

-”Well that sure is one way to ask.” you chuckled and patted his side walking away to go back to your desk

-You were not complaining by any means, but with the intensity of Katsuki’s ability to read behind your words, he knew he was picking up on something else

-Thinking back, he did notice the little way your eyes would glow as your friends were getting asked left and right

-Even when Bakugo mumbles beside you about “Why the hell’s he doing all this like she’s not already his girlfriend.”

-You’ve seen posters, candies, gifts etc.

-But all you truly wanted was for Bakugo to possibly let down a wall of his and utter the same words to you

-But you would never ever push him to do it, in fear of overstepping a boundary

-This in mind though, and with Bakugo being as invested and in love with you as he is, and not willing to admit, he plans something little so you can have a little moment to blab to your friends about too or whatever 🙄

-He’ll be damned if its in public though

-For sure expect to be woken up late at night, leaving you surprised considering yk his bedtime and all

-He’s shaking your shoulder and grumbling to you to “Wake your ass up, or I’ll leave.”

-You turn seeing Bakugo with a candle he over burnt a little bit with his quirk, your favorite snack, a teddy bear, and a little jewelry box

-“Will you uhh..” his eyes dart away from you and he hears you giggle

-”Shut up!! ... ”

-”Will you go to prom with me, Y/n?” he asks shoving the snacks and bear a little in your direction

-”Of course Katsu.”

-He smirked, opening the jewelry box

-”And you make sure to wear this little beauty around that neck of yours at this damn dance, okay?”

Denki Kaminari:

-I’m sorry but you completely spoiled Denki’s surprise

-Well it was a team effort

-He had already accidentally said too much one day without realizing so you knew he most definitely had “Something exciting to ask you”

-But bbbbruh

-The panic everyone screamed in when you randomly walked into Denki’s room while him and the rest of the Bakusquad decorated

-He jumped off the little ladder he was standing on in the corner and turned you around by your shoulders ushering you out

-”ahHa ha...”

-It’s silent for a couple second while you both plan what to say now

Simultaneously:

-“Denki I am SOOO sorry“

and

-”A little earlier than planned”

-Everyone has an ear pressed against the door at this point to listen

-”Well..surprise! I’ll tell you what though,”

-His hands reached for yours

-”I’m a liiittle busy right now.. You know what for, but let’s pretend you don’t.”

-He turns speed walking and dragging you with him

-”So you go relax for a little bit, do some studying or something. Put on one of your cute little outfits, and I’ll be by later to come get you because you’ve got a hot date in my room say around..8:30?”

-You nod, catching your breath and realized he has delivered you all the way back to your own dorm

-Before you could turn and ask any other questions, that boy is booking it around the corner to get back to his room

-Upon walking in he is greeted with bunches of “what happened?”s from his friends and a slap to the back of his head from Bakugo

-Yes they somehow got Bakugo to help

-”Guys! Guys! We’re good, why did nobody keep decorating? Come on people we have until 8:25 and then you all have got to go!”

-Fast forward to 8:30, he’s opening the door for you and guiding you inside with a hand on your back

-He’s cheesing like a fool I promise you

-Sure you already saw part of it but not nearly the end result

-”So, will you go to prom with me?”

-”Uhm, YES!”

-Y’all can hear Sero and Kiri hooting and cheering from Bakugo’s room across the hall followed by a

-”Shut up or get out you idiots!!”

-You and Denki definitely won the top spots in the Prom Court

Eijiro Kirishima:

-Kiri definitely has a little cliche possibly cringe idea he saw online

-But it’s still cute as hell because I mean hello it’s Kirishima

-All his friends were struggling planning things while he was sitting there CHILLEN

-Denki turned like “Uhhh..Bro, you all set or something? You’re looking mighty not-busy over here.”

-”Yeah man. This was eeasyy. I found exactly what I wanted to do. They’ll love it.”

-By this point everyone had been listening, and then he was bombarded with several voices asking for ideas and inspiration from him

-All voices went silent though when he whipped out his phone to show them

-”Dude.”

-”You’re joking.”

-”Tch. Dumbass..”

-He’s not even a little worried about their reactions

-If there’s one thing he knows it’s YOU

-And YOU love anything Kirishima does 

-Let’s not lie we’re all whipped

-And y’all are just some chill ass individuals and cornballs with the same humor

-He spends the entire evening that day drawing out his sign and gathering things he needs and whatnot

-When you walk into class greeted with some yummy food and cheesy saying on your desk, you smirked knowing it was the one and only

-”Surprisee!” he would sing wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek

-”Pretty manly, huh?”

-When the rest of the class sees how it actually turned out in comparison to the picture he showed, they kinda regretted trying to get on him

-Especially since you were right in front of them enjoying it

-Shit was kinda sweet

-Ya know, seeing y’all be all perfect for each other and all

-”Ah, you’re so cute. It’s great!” your face was lighting up as you plopped down in your seat

-The rest of class everyone was still stressing between lessons about their own prom situations

-And cutting their eyes at you and Kiri

-The two of you are now sitting side by side, his arm around you shoulders and both of your mouths full of sushi

-Prom is literally a dream with this man

-I feel like he would dress with the most casually classy look

-Velcro shoes acquired  😎

-Y’all are so in love you don’t even realize how visible it is

-The whole night is you two soo lost in each other uhghh

Hanta Sero:

-Sero is cool as fuck

-I just had to say that first sorreh

-He’d definitely do something real low-key and cute

-It’s not anything public or in front of everybody and their mother

-The two of you hang out by yourselves and have little ~dates~ and what not kind of often

-So him knocking at your dorm door telling you to get ready to go in 30 minutes was nothing suspicious

-After a light walk from campus y’all reached a point where he told you to close your eyes and let him guide you

-Considers covering your eyes with his tape but doesn't want to end up literally yanking off your eyebrows when he takes it off

-You settle for one hand over your eyes, and one hand in his

-Sero almost knocks you into stuff on purpose and you know it

-But eventually he’s telling you to open your eyes and 

- 🥲

-A literal gasp

-”Ohh my gosh! Sero!? What is this!?”

-You’re literally bouncin up and down

-A whole little picnic has been set up in the middle of some random park by the school just for the two of you

-He’s just smiling and rubbing at the back of his neck

-He’s cool, but he can’t lie, especially when it comes to you, he’s a liiittle bit of a uhh wreck?

-Just hides it like an expert

-”Have a seat”

-He’ll take your hand as you sit to help you wibudfverkfcj;e

-Y’all are snacking and chatting, snacking and chatting

-Everything is literally perfect with him, genuinely so nice to be around

-Around when the sun is almost getting ready to set and the two of you are thinking about heading back to the dorms he stops you for a second

-”Uhm, Y/n. I’m just gonna cut straight to it.”

-”You wanna go to prom with me?”

-He’s looking straight into your soul I swear

-You tell him you’d love too and boooy oh boy the weight off this man’s shoulders

-Everyone wonders what went down when the two of you walk back into the building hand in hand and giggling and smiling with each other

-Of course the two of you nonchalantly fill them in when they ask, but the best details stayed between the two of you

[girl-next-door-writes]

I posted 1,174 times in 2022

274 posts created (23%)

900 posts reblogged (77%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@girl-next-door-writes

@howaboutlunch

@lavenderandvanilla

@vintagevalentinex

@sam-winchester-admiration-league

I tagged 881 of my posts in 2022

Only 25% of my posts had no tags

#join the queue sweetie - 204 posts

#ems character celebration day - 118 posts

#em rambles from the dojo - 90 posts

#ems character celebration - 85 posts

#mycroft holmes - 83 posts

#armitage hux - 64 posts

#dean winchester - 57 posts

#clint barton - 53 posts

#bucky barnes - 53 posts

#dean day - 48 posts

Longest Tag: 110 characters

#except mycroft fandom where i’m that blog that randomly puts stuff out then you don’t hear from me for a while

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

okay, so this is a little basic but maybe the reader got hurt and spencer is now waiting in the hospital while the reader in surgery

thank you for hearing me out! :)

It had been hours. Hours of waiting and pacing and minimal information. The whole team was anxiously waiting for any news of how you were doing, but since you had entered the operating theatre they had heard nothing.

"This is not your fault." JJ sat opposite Spencer as he tried his best to hold it together. If he hadn't been trying to impress you then he would have read the situation differently. If he had just stopped talking for a moment, had realised that his words were infuriating the unsub rather than calming him, then you wouldn't have done what you did. You had seen the gun raise, had pushed him out of the way, had taken the bullet meant for him.

"Then whose fault is it?" He huffed, trying his best to blink back the tears threatening to fall.

"Spence, this is not your fault, and you know every member of the team would agree with me. All of them." JJ said pointedly, reaching over and placing a hand on his knee.

"What if- what if she doesn't make it? What if I never get the chance to tell her I..." his bottom lip trembled and he stifled a sob.

The truth was, the socially awkward genius had been completely smitten from the moment he met you. A feeling that had only grown the more he got to know you, until he could only conclude that he was actually, completely in love. That was why he had wanted to impress you, had tried to prove himself good enough, why he had placed you in danger.

"You will get to tell her, Spence. I'm betting that, right now, she is in there fighting for the chance to tell you something too. Don't give up on her just yet." JJ gave him a small smile, fully aware of your own devotion to this adorable man in front of her.

A doctor appeared, causing Spencer to practically leap to his feet, his eyes studying the man for any hint of the news he was bringing.

"There were some complications..." Spencer's heart dropped and he had to fight to actually hear the rest of the doctor's sentence, "...but she has pulled through the worst of it. She is weak and resting, but we are confident that she will make a full recovery."

"Can I see her?" The words escaped him before he could stop them.

"Perhaps Hotch should..." Rossi began.

"No. No, I think Spence should be the one in there. I am sure she would rather his was the first face she sees." Hotch gave Spencer a hint of a smile, patting the young man on the shoulder as he made his way to follow the doctor to your room.

Taking a deep breath, he walked through the door.

148 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

#4

Serendipity (or Sherlock)

Characters: Mycroft x reader

Summary: When Mycroft invites you to his parent’s home for Christmas, he didn’t realise he was giving his little brother the perfect opportunity to torture him.

Word Count: 1433 words

Prompt: only one bed

A/N: This is for the marvelous @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek as part of my ‘build-a-blurb’ follower celebration.

He could just call a car. It would be easy enough, call a car to come and get him and take him back to London, or a nearby hotel. Surely there would be a hotel somewhere close with a vacant room, even at this time of year. When he had told his mother that you would be accompanying him home this Christmas, he hadn’t meant it in any romantic way. Not that he didn’t want to be in a romantic entanglement with you, just that he believed you would not wish to be linked to him in such a manner. What he hadn’t been aware of, although in hindsight he should have known, was that Sherlock had been feeding his mother mis-information for weeks until the point he was fairly certain she half expected to witness a proposal on Christmas morning.

“Mycroft, it’s okay, I can always sleep on the floor.” Your voice broke his stillness, bringing him back to the reality of the moment instead of him just staring at his childhood bed. A bed he had never shared, except for the odd occasion where Sherlock had a nightmare.

“Nonsense. You will not be sleeping on the floor!” He frowned at you even believing that was a possibility. “I shall sleep downstairs. The sofa is comfortable enough.”

“With your back? I don’t think that would be a good idea. Plus, it would leave you vulnerable to a Sherlockian prank. Do you really want to wake up with only one eyebrow?” You smirked and Mycroft found himself feeling at ease, despite the awkwardness of the situation.

“Why, when my brother brings friends to family events is he not expected to share his bed?” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, can you imagine the conversation between Sherlock and John about sharing a bed?” you giggled and the smile on Mycroft’s lips only grew at the sound.

“That does not help our current predicament though. It isn’t as if the bed is large enough to share comfortably.” He frowned as he looked once again at the single bed, pressed up against the wall with a multitude of cosy blankets over it.

“Well, I’m game if you are. I have to warn you though, my feet are freezing!” You wandered over to pick out your pyjamas from your bag and Mycroft discovered he had lost all ability to function. You were going to spend the entire night squashed beside him in his childhood bed? He was a grown man, but right now he felt like a teenager who had a pretty girl in his room for the first time.

He let you use the bathroom first, then he scurried in there to change and give himself a pep talk. This was not a big deal. Nothing to worry about. Just two friends sleeping in a small space, it just meant you felt comfortable with him, that was all. No need to read into anything.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the bedroom once again. The soft light from the bedside lamp illuminated the room, and he felt his breath catch as his eyes landed upon you, all warm and cosy in his bed, waiting for him to join you. You had taken the side nearest the wall, pushing yourself against it to allow him as much space as you could, but he could tell that you would still be in very close contact.

The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he crossed the room, carefully lifting the blanket to allow him to join you without letting in any cold air. Once he had slipped into bed, he was surprised when you reached across him and switched out the light. The warmth of your body, the way your breath fanned over his skin for a fraction of a second, had his eyes fluttering closed as he swallowed thickly. No. He had to push thoughts like that away, lest his body begin to react in a way that would reveal his secret longing.

He felt you settle down beside him, felt your breath against his shoulder, and he turned to face you, smiling softly in the dark. It took a few moments for his eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness, but once they had, he was rewarded with a sight he had only dreamed of. Your eyes were closed, lips pouted slightly, your chest rising and falling softly. He was so captivated by you that he reached out, unthinking, to brush your hair from your face, his fingertips ghosting over your skin. The corners of your mouth quirked up and confirmed to him that, despite appearances, you were not sleeping.

“Are you warm enough?” he whispered, his tone hushed and reverent as he tried to find any excuse to engage you in conversation.

“If I say no, what would you do about it?” You smirked, opening your eyes to look at him.

“Fair point,” he conceded, returning your smile as his eyes twinkled a little in the gloom. “How about your feet?”

“What do you think?” You asked before placing your ice-cold feet against his calf.

“BLOODY HELL!” He jumped, shifting his weight a little and nearly falling out of bed. You grabbed him and, for a brief moment, the two of you teetered precariously on the edge of the bed before you managed to pull him back towards the wall, where he landed on top of you. He could feel your body shaking with laughter and soon enough his own mingled with yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.” You giggled, looking up at him with such adoration he couldn’t convince himself it was anything other.

“Well, you haven’t put your bloody freezing feet on my practically bare leg before.” He teased, resting on his forearms as he tried to take some of his weight off you.

“What? Like this?” You asked innocently before wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing the soles of your feet against his thighs.

“Menace!” he shrieked before looking towards the door guiltily. He didn’t want to wake anyone, and he certainly didn’t want someone barging in when he was in this position with you. Your giggles brought a fond smile to his face, and he shook his head as his gaze once again found yours. “I should have bought you bed socks for Christmas. Or perhaps a hot water bottle?”

“Nah, I don’t need them. Not when I’ve got you to keep me warm.” You hum, and Mycroft can feel the heat rising in his cheeks.

“Oh, so you plan on stealing my body heat?” He raised an eyebrow as he smirked down at you, “And what do I get in return?”

See the full post

150 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

#3

I feel this deep in my soul at times.

203 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

#2

Your Hand In Mine

Characters: Mycroft x reader

Summary: Witnessing the death of Mary Watson causes Mycroft to focus on what he feels is truly important to him.

Word Count: 1239 words

Prompt:  😍 mutual pining   🤝 taking each other’s hands during a stressful situation 😴 accidentally falling asleep on/next to each other

A/N: This is for the fantastic @howaboutlunch as part of my ‘build-a-blurb’ follower celebration. I’m sorry that there’s a little angst in this too but Mary’s death felt like the right situation.

Something always seemed to bring you back to him, no matter how hard you tried to keep your distance, to protect your heart. You would remind yourself that he believed emotions and sentiment were a weakness, would give yourself a million reasons why he would never look at you with anything other than mild indifference, and then a situation would push you into his orbit once again. As soon as you saw him, or heard him, all those carefully crafted reasons, your armour against his charms, melted away. Being in love with Mycroft Holmes was futile, you knew this. Unfortunately, your head knowing this did not mean your heart understood.

There had been late nights watching over Sherlock together, the danger nights, where you wondered if Mycroft knew how you felt about him. He was incredibly astute, his deductions as sharp as his brothers, and yet if he had figured you out, he was polite enough not to mention it. There had been lingering looks that you were unsure of, moments where you worried he was going to ask about your affections, but they never came. Perhaps it was better this way.

It had been a few weeks since your paths had crossed. There was so much drama going on within your small circle of friends and searching for the mysterious Ammo had been your focus. Now, here you stood in the dark of the aquarium, trying not to think about the fact Mycroft had changed his aftershave. That detail should not have been something you picked up on as he moved to stand beside you, the crazy woman with the gun should have your focus, but your heart began asking questions you didn’t want the answers to. Was this change because there was someone significant in his life? Had they gifted him this new scent? Did they prefer it?

Mycroft felt you tense beside him. He had maneuvered himself into this position next to you because he felt the need to protect you. It was disconcerting for him, as if he was bound to you somehow. You held him without physically touching him, your presence soothing him when he was stressed, when Sherlock worried him. Having you near helped the rest of the world fade away, helped him focus on what was truly important.

There had been times he nearly told you, almost vocalized these emotions that crashed over him whenever you were together, whenever he thought about you. Part of him wanted to drown in these emotions, wanted so desperately for you to love him, to keep you with him forever, but then he would look at you and see uncertainty and apprehension in your eyes. Had you deduced his feelings? Did you know, and not want him to say something, because then you would have to reject him?

The conversation echoed in the concaved space, strange shadows falling over those assembled creating a rather macabre feeling. Mycroft instinctively shifted his umbrella from one hand to the other before reaching for your hand. Part of him reasoned this action was so he could easily pull you out of harms way if needed, but a larger part of him knew that your touch gave him strength. He wished he wasn’t wearing gloves, that he could feel your warm skin against his.

Your fingers interlaced with his, the soft leather of his gloves gliding against your skin. You had thought you were strong, that you could handle being around him without melting completely, but one simple touch and all that fragile strength was gone. There had been the occasional handshake when you had first met, then the sporadic brush of an arm or leg, but that was as much contact as the two of you’d had. This was…

The gunshot seemed to reverberate as everything went into slow motion. It took a moment to work out someone had been shot, that someone was Mary. You moved forward slightly, your hand still tightly holding onto Mycroft’s, as tears began to stream down your cheeks. John’s heartbreak, Sherlock’s guilt, the anger, the pain, it was almost tangible.

It was going to be a danger night. John’s words had cut Sherlock deep, and when you returned to Baker Street everything felt eerily quiet.

“John?” The dark-haired detective asked from his chair, fingers steepled in front of his lips as he stared unseeing into the middle distance.

“Molly, Greg and Mrs Hudson are with him and Rosie. I thought you might need someone.” You said softly.

“My brother felt the same way.” Sherlock deadpanned as Mycroft appeared carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.

Silence had quickly descended once again, like a vacuum sucking in all sound. Small talk seemed out of place given the events of the evening, and both Holmes boys appeared to have sunk into their thoughts. Mycroft had joined you on the sofa, neither of you wanting to sit in John’s chair. The adrenaline had left your system and the late hour had you fighting your exhaustion. Eventually you gave into it, and before long you had shifted slightly, causing your sleeping frame to lean against Mycroft, your head resting against his shoulder.

Mycroft tensed at the sudden weight, glancing at you in alarm, uncertain what the correct protocol was in these circumstances. You looked so peaceful, your lips parted slightly, and he found himself holding his breath, not wanting to wake you. He wondered if you considered him a friend, or if he was simply Sherlock’s big brother. He hoped it was the former. If he was completely honest, he hoped you considered him more than a friend, but how could that be a possibility when he couldn’t express to you what you meant to him?

You were everything to him, you kept him grounded to reality. There was a very real danger at times that he could get swept up in his work, that he could feel like some sort of God controlling the world. You made him feel like a man, like he was real, like he mattered beyond his mind. That was an odd realization for him, he had always considered himself to be his intelligence, that was the only redeeming quality he possessed, yet you had seen something more.

“You should tell her.” Sherlock’s baritone broke through the silence bringing Mycroft’s attention from your face.

“Tell who?” he feigned ignorance, but both brothers knew it was a pitiful ruse.

“Sometimes, brother mine, letting someone in is worth the pain it can cause. Other people can make you better. You could make each other better.”

“And what do you suggest I tell her? Should I compare her to a summers day? That I carry her heart with me? Shall I count the ways?” Mycroft rolled his eyes, frustrated with the ridiculous conversation already, especially when there was a real danger of you waking up and hearing this.

“So, you have been reading poetry?” Sherlock smirked, noting the red creeping over his brother’s face. “I don’t think she requires a sonnet, just three words would suffice. They are true, after all.”

Mycroft looked back down at you, and he couldn’t find it in him to deny it. He did love you, and that scared him, but being without you terrified him more. Silence once more fell over the room, only this time Mycroft’s thoughts were of a possible future where you slept beside him more often.

223 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

If You Love Her

Characters: Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Morgan tries to set up Spencer and Reader in the hopes that all they need to get together is a little push. Little does he know, they’ve been together for a while.

Word Count: 948 words

Prompt: secret relationship, fierce kiss, chaste kiss, falling asleep, only one bed.

A/N: This is for the magnificent @marvellover-12 and fabulous @kalliblast as part of my ‘build-a-blurb’ follower celebration.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell for you; it could have been the first time you smiled at him, or when you understood his random Doctor Who reference, perhaps it was the many times you had playfully defended him against Morgan’s teasing. More likely it was a combination of all the little moments, the shy glances, the brush of your hand against his. Spencer knew that finding the exact moment was not important, he was completely in love with you, and he knew you felt the same way.

The past few months had been like a beautiful dream. Secret coffee runs, elaborate excuses as to why neither of you could join the team for drinks, stolen kisses in the break room. This was all so new, and it had been agreed that you didn’t want to share it just yet. Better to see how things progressed, build a solid foundation before you had the team interrogating you both. Not that your behaviour had gone unnoticed.

Being pulled from his bed to jet across the country was never Spencer’s favourite thing; sleep being quite a rare commodity for him at times, yet here he was. The flight was going to be a long one, and after a briefing and looking over the notes he had found his head growing heavy. Stifling another yawn, Spencer tried his best to keep his eyes from closing, aware of Morgan’s studying gaze on him.

A weight suddenly fell on his shoulder, and he glanced down in surprise, smiling softly when he realised you had nodded off and were now using him as an impromptu pillow. Shifting a little, he made sure you were comfy before leaning his cheek against the top of your head. This wouldn’t be the first time a team-mate had fallen asleep in him, so he figured nobody would be suspicious. As he drifted to sleep, he couldn’t help but smile to himself, feeling reassured by your presence.

Morgan watched the two of you curiously. He was well aware of Spencer’s not so subtle crush on you, hell, he’d teased the boy enough about it. The boy genius seemed to drop iq points around you like a tree in fall, not to mention the stuttering over his words. He had to admit though, that over the last few months, the boy wonder seemed to have got his shit together a little better, though the longing looks across the bullpen and the dreamy smile on his lips had only gotten worse. Penelope seemed convinced that his feelings were reciprocated, but nothing would happen as neither of you was the type to make the first move. No, what you needed was a push; the whole team agreed.

You shifted in your sleep, your arm coming up to rest around Spencer’s waist as you let out a soft sigh. Morgan nudged JJ, nodding at the two of you with a smirk, which was quickly dropped when the two of them witnessed Spencer turn his head and place a tender, chaste kiss to the top of your head. It was a gesture of such familiarity and intimacy that Morgan had to grab onto JJ to stop her letting out an excited squeal. Yeah, it was incredibly cute, but it was hardly a conscious act. It did, however, show promise. Perhaps sleepy Spencer would be more open to making that first move, and that is how the ‘fool proof’ plan came to be.

If felt like the longest day ever by the time the team rolled up to the motel. Early morning flights combined with a full day wading through the horrific atrocities left by this killer meant that everyone was practically dead on their feet.

“I’ve got two doubles and the rest are singles, so fight it out amongst yourselves.” Hotch said tiredly as he grabbed a key to a single room and padded off down the corridor.

“Rossi?” Morgan picked up a key and nodded towards the corridor.

“Seriously? Can’t you share with Spence?” the older man grumbled.

“Oh, hell no! Not making that mistake again.” Morgan chuckled, glancing over at JJ.

“You two don’t mind sharing do you? I just want to talk to Will and maybe do that ‘falling asleep together over video call’ thing?” She looked at you both hopefully and it took everything he had to stop Spencer agreeing immediately.

“Sure, I don’t mind sharing with Spencer. I can always get him to read to me.” You chuckled as you picked up the final key. “Come on then roomie, I get first pick of bed though.”

As soon as the motel door closed, Spencer had tossed your bags into the room and cupped your face with his freezing cold hands. You were about to protest when his lips caught yours in a searing kiss that made your lack of sleep and the temperature of his hands irrelevant. Stumbling over to the bed, still tangled up in each other, it took you a few moments to realise that this room only had one bed.

“Do you think they know?” Spencer asked, looking at you with a hint of concern in his eyes.

“About us or about there only being one bed?” You asked with a growing smirk. “Do you think Morgan and Rossi are having the same conversation?”

“You think it’s a genuine mix up?”

“I think it doesn’t matter. I think that I get to share a bed with my gorgeous boyfriend and the BAU picks up the bill.”

“Okay, but we’ll have to be quiet, we don’t know how thin these walls are.” Spencer grinned before pushing you back onto the bed and resuming his kisses.

2,212 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[spacevixenmusic]

One of the most interesting shows I watched for the very first time this year was Captain N: The Game Master!

In a world before isekai was the dominant anime genre, people were already making plenty of movies and TV shows about people being transported into game worlds, but Captain N was more than just that. Back in 1989, video games had just broken free of arcades and were exploding in popularity onto home consoles. And just like everything else in the 80s, the most effective way to boost toy and game sales was to make a Saturday morning cartoon. The kicker? Back in 1989, most video game franchises were just getting started, and for the most part, nobody was quite sure how best to turn these familiar little pixel sprites into cute and marketable characters for an all-ages audience.

So in these early wild west days of video games, producers had to guess which characters might take off in popularity and shove them into character roles so the writers would have something to work with. This resulted in one of the weirdest video game cartoons ever made, stuffed to bursting with wild crossovers and bizarre interpretations of such now-iconic characters like Mega Man, Simon Belmont, Pit (who we only knew back then as “Kid Icarus”), Mother Brain, and MANY more.

And of course, you needed an ordinary everyday white kid to act as the main character, so we have our protagonist in Captain N*. Kevin is a kid who plays a ton of video games and one day just out of the blue gets sucked into his TV and ends up in “Videoland”, which is just one massive amalgamation of video game worlds from the NES library, connected haphazardly by randomly located Warp Zones (curiously similar to the running gag in Mighty Max where the portals are located in bizarre locations and it takes a few hops to get from place to place). There’s a half-baked story in the background about him trying to get back home, but he’s having too much fun living the games and showing off all the secrets and strategies he knows and ends up sticking around.

Anyway, I'm putting a whole buttload of thoughts and gifs I’ve made into my queue, so you can expect to see a whole lot more about this show coming up later!

(*a character from Nintendo Power magazine whose creator apparently went uncredited and uncompensated for years, but that’s another story!)