#Internal Affairs (trope)

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Although it wasn’t revealed until the Sixth Inspector era,

the Infinity Knights had ‘observers’ watching over the Inspector’s activities since his fourth incarnation.

[alphabetboyluvr]

the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk

THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)

pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)

warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit

wordcount: 13011

note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24

Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.

It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.

His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.

Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.

Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?

Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.

Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.

If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.

But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.

They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.

"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."

Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.

"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"

You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.

Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.

You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.

"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"

But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.

You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.

Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.

In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.

Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.

Or at least most of them aren't.

But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.

Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.

Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?

Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.

But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.

Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.

Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?

You wanna know how it tastes.

Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.

Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.

You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.

Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.

It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.

"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."

"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.

"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.

You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.

"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.

"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.

Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.

"Oh."

"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"

The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.

In a way you don't yet realise, he is.

Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.

"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.

"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.

"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"

"Stumbled."

"Semantics."

His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too. 

Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.

"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."

"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."

"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."

It's not a bad offer.

In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.

"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."

If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.

Still, you're not a complete idiot.

"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.

He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.

"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."

Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.

Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."

In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."

Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.

"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.

By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.

"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.

Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.

HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53

Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.

Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.

Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.

You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.

"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."

It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.

Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?

You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.

"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"

Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.

You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.

"Fuck off," you laugh.

While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.

"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."

He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.

With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."

And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.

"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."

"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.

"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."

"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."

"Mike?!" He protests.

"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."

"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"

"Do I look like a Shelly?!"

You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.

After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.

"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."

And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.

Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."

You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."

It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.

"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"

You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.

"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12

"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs. 

His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.

He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.

"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.

In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.

Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.

You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.

"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."

But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.

"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."

"Yoongi?" You question.

"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.

Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.

Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.

Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.

None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.

They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.

After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.

Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.

"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."

His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.

In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.

"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."

With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.

"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."

Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."

Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.

Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.

"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.

You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."

Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.

And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."

"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."

Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.

Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.

"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."

The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.

A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.

"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."

And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.

"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.

He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.

The room you're in right now is known worldwide. 

People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.

Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.

After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.

"Okay," he says. "So take them off."

"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.

"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.

"You've got a point."

With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.

Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.

There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.

"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.

"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."

It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.

"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.

Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.

Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.

"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."

"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."

"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."

"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."

"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"

"Mhmm," you hum.

He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.

But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.

"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.

You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."

He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."

Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.

"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."

His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.

There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.

Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.

The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.

You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.

There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.

It's not.

You are.

You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"

You're just as bad.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."

The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.

Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.

You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.

It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel. 

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39

Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.

The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.

It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.

And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find. 

From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names. 

Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.

Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer. 

CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends. 

Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life. 

Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.

"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."

"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.

Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.

Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.

Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.

Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.

"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.

"It's not an L!"

"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"

"No, I wasn't!"

"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"

"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."

"What is it?"

"Not telling you."

"Cause you don't have one!"

"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."

GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me

"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.

"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."

"Don't do that!"

"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."

"Do NOT do that!"

"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.

"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."

Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.

And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.

"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.

The next day is no different, nor the day after that.

He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.

"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."

You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.

Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.

Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads. 

Simple. Effective. To the point.

But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.

And so you change the name to 'Mike'. 

Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.

The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.

Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"

You close the lid of your laptop immediately.

"Fuck."

THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51

"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed. 

You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.

There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.

Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening. 

After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.

"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"

There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective. 

You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.

And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.

Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.

Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.

"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."

Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.

"Thank you!" Rae beams.

"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."

"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."

You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.

"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.

"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.

Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.

"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.

"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"

"Alright."

Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd. 

He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.

It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something. 

Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.

Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.

When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.

Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.

You're the one who left, though. 

It's up to you to come back.

Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.

As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.

Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.

"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.

With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you. 

For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.

In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.

You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.

Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.

As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.

Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.

Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.

"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"

He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.

"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.

You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.

Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.

None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.

It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.

Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.

Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.

"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.

It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.

"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."

"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."

"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."

"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."

Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.

"Ah," he cringes.

"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."

"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"

"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."

Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters. 

"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."

"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.

"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."

"Yeah?"

Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.

"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.

Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week. 

He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.

And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07

You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.

You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.

Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.

The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.

He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again. 

Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.

Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.

"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"

"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."

"Touché."

He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.

But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.

"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"

He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."

Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.

A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.

Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.

He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.

Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.

Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."

He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.

Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.

As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.

It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.

Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.

You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.

"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."

The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.

"Suit me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."

"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."

Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.

Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.

Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.

You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.

And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.

The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.

"Yeah?" He checks.

Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."

It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.

As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.

"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.

Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.

Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.

"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.

There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.

"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."

And then you're giggling again.

"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"

The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.

"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."

Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.

"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.

"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.

Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.

Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.

Instead, he says, "Stay here."

Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.

"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.

Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.

Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."

Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.

Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.

"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"

Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.

As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.

Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.

There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.

"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.

"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."

You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."

While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"

"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."

"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.

You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."

If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.

Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.

With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.

But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.

"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."

Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.

"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.

"Fuck—"

"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"

"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."

"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."

The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.

It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.

"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?

Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.

He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.

Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.

As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.

"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."

"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"

Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.

"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."

Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.

You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"

"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.

The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.

Truth be told, you won't even try.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13

"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.

You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.

No one is questioning it.

What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.

"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.

"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.

The chat seems to agree with him.

"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"

Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.

Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.

As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.

Stop distracting meI'm working</3

Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.

He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.

It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.

What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.

You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.

Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.

Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.

A Monarch, you'd told him.

"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."

Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.

"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.

His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.

"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."

It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.

"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching. 

He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You take (1)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.

All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so. 

He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone. 

You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.

“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.

“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”

He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.

You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.

The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.

Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.

It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.

Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real. 

He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.

Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer. 

He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.

You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.

He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.

Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had. 

For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.

“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”

You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.

Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.

Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.

“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”

Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”

Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”

Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.

In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.

“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply. 

Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.

Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.

He’s a protector, not a villain.

Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.

You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.

Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.

“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.

Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child. 

Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.

No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.

Every Breath You Take (2)

Tags in reblog.

[intricatedemonicrituals]

Canon Destiel Timeline Masterpost

I wrote this all in a fugue state while listening to Green Grow the Lilacs on repeat so forgive any mistakes. @gay-fae ask and ye shall receive

So much has happened in the long and storied history of his fandom so I've decided to try to document it. I've started by looking up every time that canon destiel, destiel event, misha collins, jackles, or some other search terms have spiked on Google and cross referenced them with tumblr or twitter posts from that day. I know a lot of this is Misha stuff, but he does tend to be the one to say things

November 5th, 2020: Season 15, Episode 18 "Despair" airs and Castiel declares his love to Dean. The presidential election, Georgia turning blue, the presumed retirement of Vladamir Putin, Dabi from My Hero Academia, Ouran Host Club season 2, Sherlock season 5, the president of Bolivia being attacked with dynamite, ongoing BLM protests, a twitter artist making racist art of Ted Bundy, Hetalia returning, a dead man being elected Representative for North Dakota, V for Vendetta, scientists discovering a "hell" planet that rains rocks and has lava oceans, and half of Europe being in lockdown all became tumblr news around the same time. Some of these are true, some not.

November 8th, 2020: Misha Collins, in a panel with Richard Speight, states that the confession scene was a "declaration of homosexual love", and that when Castiel goes to the Empty, it is an example of the "Kill your gays" trope.

November 19th, 2020: The finale airs and it is not well loved to say the least. The episode is short, Dean dies by falling on a nail to death fighting vampire clowns, and there are several characters left with dangling unresolved plot threads and arcs, including Castiel. The car is in heaven though. There is very little heard from the cast and crew, if anything.

November 22nd, 2020: Misha Collins, in a livestream, tells a fan that Castiel and Jack are remaking heaven together, Cas has his wings back, and they are rainbow-colored. He had, however, mentioned the rainbow wings before.

November 24th, 2020: The Spanish dub of the confession is released and a "rogue" translator has written "Y yo a ti" or "I love you too" as Dean's response. Destiel goes canon in Spanish. Tumblr stops working as a result.

November 25th, 2020: tumblr user @thebloggerbloggerfun claims Jensen Ackles said "I had a member of the film crew record the confession scene on my phone for me" #unsourced #releasethetapes

November 26th, 2020: Misha doesn't appreciate the rogue translator, but walks that opinion back later the same day

November 27th, 2020: A "leaked" Italian dub of the confession scene shows a mutual confession.

November 28th, 2020: President Obama follows a destiel account on Twitter

November 30th, 2020: The supposed "Italian dub" is revealed as a fake created by user @iotiamo using sound clips from other parts of the Italian dub on show.

December 1st, 2020: Twitter user @mothdean says "misha I know you have a stan acc and spy on us so can we have a hazel update please"

December 3rd, 2020: Misha tweets about Hazel snoring and this is taken as possible confirmation of Misha's secret stan account

December 11th, 2020: A script from Cas's perspective leaks. It says "We see Cass's POV of Dean again - his face drawn, drained of hope. But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester."

December 16th, 2020: Newsweek runs an article about an article that Misha wrote about the Lewinsky affair while interning in the Clinton White House in which Misha comes off as rather thirsty for Bill

December 20th, 2020: All Supernatural related materials disappear off the CW's website due to a copyright dispute with Warner Brothers

December 31st, 2020: Mishapocalypse redux

February 9th, 2021: Spn cast members Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris tweet about a party at the Roadhouse and it grows to become a full Destiel wedding

February 16th, 2021: @steveyockey made a fairly benign post about Jensen Ackles. The notes went wild in a variety of ways and started a rumor that Spn writer Steve Yockey was dead

February 20th, 2021: Steve Yockey is not dead and he should say it

March 3rd, 2021: The German dub drops and it is also romantic in tone

March 6-8th, 2021: A virtual con happens where Jensen discusses Chaos Machine and Jared says he wants to be in their next project. They also show that WAP video. Jensen is giving full mountain man preparing to play Soldier Boy.

March 10th, 2021: The French dub is released. Cas says, "I love you, Dean" and Dean now responds, "Don't do this to me, Castiel"

March 13th, 2021: The company Amazon tweets about Castiel and Misha Collins asks if they ship Deancas or Wincest. Subsequently apologizes.

March 16th, 2021: Misha says he can't speak as Castiel because Warner Brothers" specifically forbade it. #cwsniperconfirmed

March 17th, 2021: Sam and Eileen are getting married! I have no idea how this came about but I'm happy for them

March 23rd, 2021: Chad Lindberg and Samantha Ferris claim on Twitter that the Roadhouse party was about Valentine's day and not a wedding. Ferris specifically said that she worked on the show and that people tried to make Dean/Cas into "something that it wasn't", She also stated she doesn't "know what queerbaiting is" and that it was due to an "agenda". This led to #deanisbi trending on Twitter and Tumblr.

March 31st, 2021: Some possibly fake leaked scripts come up for sale on eBay. Also, Jensen is Batman.

April 1st, 2021: Mishapocalypse redux

April 6th, 2021: Leaked scripts from the 2 final episodes pop up and have several mentions of Cas in them that were omitted. Dean even thinks about Cas's confession when confronting Chuck.

April 18th, 2021: Scripts from seasons 12 and 13 leak. These include scenes from after Cas's death

May 17th, 2021: Jensen's band Radio Company releases an album including the song Watching Over Me

June ~5th, 2021: Misha says at a convention that Watching Over Me is about Castiel. Jensen neither confirms nor denies this when asked about it

June 11th, 2021: It is announced that Misha is publishing a book of poetry

June 18th, 2021: The Russian dub airs and Dean's line is changed to "Don't you dare, Cas"

June 24-28th, 2021: Jensen and Daneel Ackles reveal that they are making a Supernatural prequel series following John and Mary Winchester (a story that NOBODY was asking for). Jensen will reprise his role as Dean and will narrate. Misha hints that he would like to be involved, as do Ruthie Connell, Samantha Ferris, Matt Cohen, and Julie McNiven (the perils of having a cast of mostly immortal characters). But Jared Padalecki first says that he is happy for the Ackles's, he later said he was "gutted", then responded to Robbie Thompson's tweet calling him a "coward" and saying "what an awful thing you've done". The next day, Jensen and Jared both do damage control and say they'll always be brothers

July 17th, 2021: People are asking if Destiel will be canon in Space Jam, Misha's poetry book's cover is revealed to lukewarm reviews and people are talking about a particular poem about piss, and Perfume Genius releases an article that is a self-insert vore fanfiction about having sex with Jensen Ackles

August 2nd, 2021: Perfume Genius is at it again with "Last Friday, I had my eyes removed by Jared Padalecki". No, I do not know why she is doing this.

August 9th, 2021: Destiel fics hit 100k on Ao3. Misha tweets his support and people remember that he sometimes reads fanfiction and theorize he has an A03 account

September 1st, 2021: Misha makes his first Tiktok. There is a short intro before he calls cut, walks behind a screen, and strips his clothes off

September 3rd, 2021: Jake Abel uses Michael and Adam to help sell his hot sauce brand

September 4th, 2021: Misha confirms that the love between Castiel and Dean was "reciprocated"

September 9th, 2021: A clip of the real Italian dub of the confession scene goes viral as it is revealed that, unlike the Spanish dub, they change the line to "ti voglio bene" or essentially "I love you like family". Misha responds with a video saying "Ciao Italia, ti amo" with the subtitle "Love is love in any language"

September 21st, 2021: Misha drops the fact that one of his poems is from Castiel's perspective.

September 30th, 2021: Jensen will be appearing at a con on the same day as Misha and not with Jared for "professional reasons"

October 4th, 2021: Misha responds to a fan's tweet by saying that Jensen has "crazy eyes and a knife in his pocket"

October 10th, 2021: Daneel posts a picture of Jensen intently reading Misha's poetry book in front of a roaring fire on Instagram. Misha responds that he misses them even more

October 12th, 2021: Jensen is cast in Rust, a (rather ill-fated) western and Misha says "Yippie-ki-yay" and calls him a stud in the comments

October 16th, 2021: Denvercon. Jensen and Jared reunite for the first time since THE INCIDENT

April 24th, 2022: Misha Collins says in terms of being an extrovert, an introvert, or a bisexual, he joked "I'm all three". This led to the internet celebrating Misha's newly revealed bisexuality.

April 25th, 2022: Misha Collins comes out as straight. Oops!

June 19th, 2022: According to Misha, Dean's heaven was supposed to be at the Roadhouse with all his friends and Cas was going to be there with him

November 7th, 2022: Misha calls Elon Musk a snowflake

November 12th, 2022: Tumblr starts planning another Mishapocalypse

January 24th, 2023: Jensen and the cast of the Winchesters throw Dean Winchester a birthday party, including wearing silly little hats

February 26th, 2023: At JIBcon 11, Jensen sings an improvised song about an angel while Misha sits cross-legged on the floor looking up at him

April 1st, 2023: 10 year anniversary of the Mishapocalypse

April 16th, 2023: A year after his bisexual whoopsie daisy, Misha says that Warner Brothers asked him to "let it go" and keep pretending to be bisexual.

August 23, 2023: Rogue Spanish translator is revealed to not have gone rogue at all but instead to have followed the script he was given, confirming the existence of a mutual love confession that was cut at some point.

If you can remember any events and dates that I haven't found, please let me know and I'll add them! I haven't really rounded out 2022 and 2023 yet.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 20: Canon Compliant

hunger | @autisticandroids Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,632 Main Tags/Warnings: Endverse Cas/Dean, Endverse, Bittersweet, Discussion of Lazarus Rising, Angel True Forms, Dirty Talk, Fade to Black Summary: Endverse Cas talks about what it was like to have Dean inside him.

There'll be peace when you are done - are you done? | @brainfuzz Rating: General Word Count: 3,216 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Finale, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On,Post-Canon Fix-It,Fix-It Summary: Like most fans, I thought the final episode was terrible. I also thought were gaps that made no sense, and not just the missing people (who was Sam's wife, really), but gaps in the story. The biggest gaps for me were the “find anything? Yeah I got something” leading to a pie festival, which somehow abruptly turned into a vampire clown clownpires, clowpires? hunt, with no explanation of how that happened. So, I figured it out. And fixed the ending so it made sense all at the same time.

no proof one touch | @watchinghimrakeleaves Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5,389 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Finale, Love Confessions, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester in Heaven, Castiel and Dean Winchester Reunion in Heaven, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Everyone Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester Summary: When Castiel learns that Dean has entered heaven, he's determined to avoid him to save them both the pain of dealing with his confession. Dean is equally as determined to find him, leading him to put up signs for Cas anywhere he thinks the angel might be.

Day after day, sorrow in his heart | @silver-stake-through-the-heart Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 20,058 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Alastair (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Mary Winchester, Sam Winchester, God | Chuck Shurley, POV Dean Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Mental Breakdown, Self-Loathing, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Pining Dean Winchester, References to John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Brief Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Self-Blaming Dean Winchester, Nightmares, Castiel's Handprint (Supernatural), Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising (Supernatural), Temporarily Human Castiel (Supernatural), Demon Dean Winchester Arc, Godstiel Arc, Dean Winchester's Season 13 Widower Arc, Castiel and Dean Winchester's Season 15 Divorce Arc, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene (Supernatural), Post-Episode AU: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural), Hopeful Ending Summary: Everything begins when he crawls out of a tomb with no name, where he's been buried alone. So alone, in fact, there isn't a single living soul miles and miles around. Everything begins earlier, but he can't remember it. Everything begins later, in a barn, and each second of it is engraved in his memory. There are so many beginnings for this story, and so many ends—each and every one breaking his heart.

An Abundance of Light (WIP) | @presentlydean & catidono (AO3) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 56,340 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Donna Hanscum & Jody Mills, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Jack Kline, Slow Burn, Original Characters - Freeform, nephilim & cambion, Jack as God, hunter hub Sam Winchester, Eileen deserved better 2k22, Internalized Homophobia, Canon-Typical Internalized Homophobia, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Isolation, self-destructive behaviors, Communication Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, kissing for comfort and also gay, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Panic Attacks, conflicting love languages, They're stupid your honor Summary: Jack’s new rules for heaven are simple: no intervening in human affairs. But when Dean is mortally wounded on a hunt, that simple directive becomes impossible for Castiel to follow, so he does what he does best and rebels, returning to earth to save Dean. But life on earth after Chuck is more complicated than any of them could have predicted. Dean retreats from the world, Castiel struggles to meet Jack’s expectations, and Castiel’s deathbed confession still hangs unresolved between them. They are free now, but having freedom and knowing what to do with it are two different things. After years of trauma and pain, learning to make a different kind of choice—a kind that will allow them to heal—is easier said than done.

Far From Heaven: Part One | @Taymarpigeon Rating: Explicit Word Count: 102,086 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Heavy Angst, Gratuitous Smut, Fluff, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Top/Bottom Versatile Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester Has Internalized Homophobia, Homophobic John Winchester, Extremely Dubious Consent, Wing Kink, Canon-Typical Violence, Angelic Grace as Lube (Supernatural)Angelic Grace-Powered Orgasms (Supernatural)Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Dom/sub, POV Alternating, BDSM, Risk Aware Consensual Kink Summary: For years people have joked about Dean and Cas being boyfriends, Dean shrugged it off 'cause, well, reasons. As for Cas? Well he's Cas! Probably didn't even know what his dick was for before Metatron stole his Grace. But Metatron did steal his Grace. Cas is human now. And Dean certainly knows what his dick is for. Sometimes a relationship doesn't start with flowers and a boombox held on your shoulder outside your crush's bedroom window. Sometimes it starts with a homicidal Angel, a failed date, and arguing in a storm.

[daisynik7]

you’re killing me with all this angst!! 😭 any possible unrequited but happy ending with Eren when you have the time and will? Or just anything fluffy really, just to put a dinosaur print bandaid on all the broken hearts 😭

🎶 You've got my heart bursting at the seams, maybe you're the boy of my dreams. 🎶

Title: Dream Boy

Pairing: jock!Eren x shy!reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

cw: unrequited crush, fluff, college au

Summary: You’ve had a crush on Eren Jaeger for a while now. He’s the captain of your university’s swim team who also happens to be a fellow engineering major, like you. For months, you’ve admired from afar, letting yourself daydream about being his girlfriend. But that’s all it is: fantasy. Until one day, when you’re invited to a beach outing with friends, and he happens to be there too. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request, anon! Going with a common trope here, hope you don’t mind! I’ve always been a sucker for popular jock x shy nerd, so I hope you like this one! Also, fair warning, I have never surfed in my life, and I had to do some research on this, so major apologies if I got any of these details wrong, please don’t be mean to me LOL. Title is inspired by the song "Dream Boy" by Beach Bunny! Listen if you want to set the mood right. Divider credit to @/saradika.

With the weather getting warmer and the sun shining brighter, a trip to the beach sounds like the perfect idea to get away. Midterms just ended and finals are fast approaching in a few weeks. This is the only weekend when it makes sense to relax before you have to start the grind once more.  

It’s your roommate, Sasha, who originally plans this little weekend getaway. When you’re not too busy studying, you’re hanging out with her. She’s become your closest friend since you first lived with her freshman year, always friendly and making the effort to include you in all her social affairs, even when you decline so often. Through her, you met Mikasa and Annie, who have been nothing but kind to you, despite having strong personalities. You’re excited to get to know them even better by going on this trip with them.

With Annie’s car packed with all of your belongings, the four of you set out on the hour-long journey. Mikasa offered her parent’s beach house to stay at which works out perfectly for broke college students. Using your meal plans, you collectively purchased enough snacks and beverages to last the next two nights. So far, everything is working out swimmingly. 

You arrive to your destination, stoked to be spending the weekend with the beach as your backyard. Mikasa points out the other car parked in the driveway, groaning. “Oh no. Eren’s here. And he probably brought the rest of the boys.”

Sasha turns to face her. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“That’s his car. And those are their surfboards on the rack. They’re definitely here.”

Your roommate directs her question at you. “Are you okay with this?”

You smile, a little taken aback that you’ll be sharing a home with a few strangers, but fine overall. “Yeah, should be fun. By the way, who’s Eren?”

“Eren Jaeger, my brother.”

Upon hearing his full name, you do your best to swallow the strangled noise in your throat, playing it cool. Eren Jaeger? Captain of the school’s swim team? Fellow engineering student and your classmate for two of your current courses, three last semester? The guy you’ve had the hugest crush on since you first laid eyes on him freshmen year, when you used to live a floor above him? That Eren Jaeger? 

“Oh, cool,” you say, totally not meaning it. Still, you have to keep your composure. Knowing this information has you feeling self-conscious. You didn’t pack your best clothes, under the impression this was just a girl’s trip. And you realize that he might see you in your swimsuit, which you’re horrified about. Internally, you’re freaking out, unprepared for this recent development. You contemplate calling a taxi, faking an illness to avoid any possible embarrassment you’ll display in front of him. Before you can, Sasha drags you into the house, both your bags in hand, announcing your arrival. “Eren! We know you’re in here!”

Mikasa and Annie follow, carrying the rest of the luggage with them, inspecting the house. “Hey, Jaeger. Get out here,” Annie demands.

He strolls in from one of the hallways, hair down, in a white t-shirt and basketball shorts, slides on his feet. Looking as cool and attractive as ever. You hide behind Sasha, cheeks already hot. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks Mikasa, placing a hair tie between his lips, fingers running through his hair to put it up in a ponytail. 

“Carla and Grisha said I could use the house for the weekend. What are you doing here?”

“Brought the boys to surf and chill. I guess I should have asked Mom and Dad first.” He shrugs, unfazed.

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “You should have told me you were coming. I have guests.”

He glances at the rest of you. “So? It’s just Sasha and Annie. What’s the big deal?”

“My roommate’s here too!” Sasha mentions, stepping aside to reveal you. “And it’s weird sharing a house with boys!” 

You give him a small wave, a weak grin on your face. “Hello.”

He steps towards you, squinting as if he’s studying you carefully. “Hey! It’s you!”

You blurt out a confused, “Huh?”

He says your full name, shocking you further, before he continues. “You’re in my class. Physics and Materials Science, right?”

You’re surprised that he recognizes you, that he even knows your name. Up until this point, you were convinced that you were invisible to him. You nod, momentarily speechless when he smiles at you. “I’m sorry for showing up like this. We can leave if you want us to.”

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Annie comments, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Before anyone else can speak, you say, “It’s okay. You don’t have to leave.” If you’re going to grow up and move on from this crush, you can’t chicken out on things like this. And besides, you don’t want to be the one person who ruins all the fun. 

“Are you sure? It’s not a big deal. It’s just an hour drive. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”

He grins. “As long as you’re okay with this.”

Mikasa, on the other hand, says, “Well, what if I’m not okay with this.”

“Fine. Then you be the one to kick out Jean. He was really looking forward to surfing today.” At the mention of that name, Mikasa blushes, not responding. The rest of you girls have an idea about Mikasa’s crush on Jean, so it’s not surprising when she doesn’t pester Eren anymore. Even Annie’s eyes light up when Armin comes out of one of the rooms, greeting you. 

After settling in, everyone gathers in the living room, planning what to do next. Collectively, you agree to head outside to relax on the beach while the boys surf. You try to contain your excitement at seeing Eren in a skin-tight body suit, holding onto the giant board, hair tied in a messy bun like a male model for Billabong. 

You lay towels and blankets all around the sand, setting up umbrellas to block out the blistering sun. Annie dumps all the snacks in the middle, while the four of you stretch out comfortably. You hide yourself under a towel, self-conscious about in a bathing suit in front of Eren, who probably doesn’t notice anyways. 

Sasha plays music on her Bluetooth speaker while you and Mikasa open your books, reading. Annie watches a movie on her phone, headphones plugged in. An hour later, Eren comes running up from the shore, dripping with ocean water, hair matted, still gorgeous. He glances at you first, flashing his brilliant smile. “Hey, do you want to try?” He knocks his fist against the surfboard, waiting for your answer.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be good at it. In fact, I think I’ll be very, very bad at it,” you admit.

“It’s okay. I can just show you how to sit on it. We won’t actually ride the big waves. You know how to swim, right?”

You nod, placing your book in your bag. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up, especially since it means quality time with him. However, you can’t help but feel nervous, expecting to make a fool of yourself. Sasha encourages you. “You should go try it! It’ll be fun.”

Mikasa adds, “Yeah, Eren is surprisingly a good teacher.”

Convinced, you stand up, hesitantly letting the towel fall to expose yourself in your swimsuit. You avoid his gaze, too flustered worrying about what he thinks of you. He leads the way to the shore, you following close behind him. The rest of the guys sit on the sand next to their boards, chatting. When they see you, they wave, giving you some motivating thumbs up. 

Eren turns to face you, pausing. “First, you have to attach the leash.” He squats down, hands near your foot, peering up at you. “Do you mind?”

Unaware of what the leash even is, you remain calm, trying to ignore your excitement with him this close to your bare skin. “Go ahead.”

He wraps the Velcro around your ankle, fingers brushing against you delicately. He readjusts it three times, asking on the third, “Is this too tight?”

“No,” you answer, still staring out towards the sea, unable to meet his gaze.

He stands back up to explain the basics of surfing. It’s all too much to retain in a short amount of time, but you listen and appreciate how well he describes each step, memorizing the most important details. 

“We should practice getting on the board first before we enter,” he suggests, placing it flat on the sand, beckoning you to get on it. “Just lay on it, face down, and get used to how it feels against your body.” You get down, pressing your stomach to the deck, gripping to the sides. 

“Good job.” He squats again, level with you. “Once we’re in the water, you’re gonna want to move fast. You have to push the board forward against the force of the waves, then quickly hop on. It might be a little tough, but I know you can do it. The waves are strong, so if you can’t get the timing right, make sure you lift your board up with the peak and hold on tight, so that you don’t get dragged with it.”

You nod, getting increasingly anxious. With the information locked in your brain, you follow Eren into the ocean, board floating steadily on the surface, your hand on the center. He isn’t exaggerating; the waves are intense, even the tiny ones close to shore. Once you are waist deep, Eren, who’s farther away from you now, turns up the volume of his voice louder, cupping one hand around his mouth, the other pointing to the incoming wave. “It’s coming!”

It approaches fast, almost too quickly. Before you know it, the force drags you backwards, falling in. Wet from head to toe now, you resurface, grabbing the board to reposition yourself, grasping both the tail and the deck, remembering his instructions from earlier. 

“Are you okay?” he yells out, concerned.

“Yeah!” you respond, preparing for the next one. With more determination and confidence, you push forward, hopping on successfully when the wave rushes in. 

“Great job!” he exclaims from behind you. Your chest swells with adrenaline and pride. There’s no time to waste as the next wave approaches. The next task is to straddle. You get in a push-up pose, grasping the side rails. It’s not enough though; it slides out from under you, knocking you back, a stream of salty water flushing your nose causing you to choke momentarily. Eren ruses over as fast as he can, waddling in the water, worried. “Are you okay?”

You laugh, an electrifying buzz coursing through your body. “Yeah! Let me try again.”

He smiles brightly, amused by your resolve. “Okay. Hold on really tight and make sure to slide the board slightly forward as you sit up.”

It takes you a couple more tries, salt water now burning your nose and throat, until you finally manage to straddle the board. You raise your fists in the air, turning your neck to face him. “I did it!”

Beaming, mimicking your celebratory gesture, he happily yells, “You did!” When the waves come, you and the board flow with it, bobbing up and down on the water. After minutes of struggling, covered in sweat, dripping with ocean water, you finally feel at peace. You enjoy riding a few more waves, dehydration slowly sinking in, surely from all the salt you’ve unintentionally swallowed. You glance at Eren, who’s watching you from a short distance away. “I think I’m good for the day! I need some water.”

He walks over, standing next to you. “Oh yeah, definitely. Great job, by the way. That was awesome seeing you like that.” He pats you gently on your knee, grinning. 

You giggle. “Thank you. So, uh, how do I get off this thing?”

“Well, this is going to the last thing I teach you, okay? You’re going to paddle out and towards the shore. Think you can do it?”

With whatever leftover determination you have, you nod, leaning your chest down to the board. He helps you readjust yourself so that you’re facing the sands. “The wave is coming! Get ready to paddle!”

Like a dog trying to swim, you flail your arms as if your life depends on it, successfully riding the wave until it comes to a stop on the shore. Armin, Connie, and Jean, witnessing this still sat in the same spot, cheer. When you stand up, your equilibrium is all off, losing balance. Luckily, Eren runs up to catch you, steadying you. “That was awesome. You did so good!”

Catching your breath, tired from all the physical exertion and adrenaline, you breathe out, “Thank you,” giving him a weak smile. The two of you walk to the rest of your friends, Eren’s hand on your back, in case you lose balance again. As you approach the girls, they applaud, beaming with joy. 

“That was epic!” Sasha exclaims, handing you a water bottle. 

Suddenly, he’s gripping your shoulders, squeezing affectionately. “She’s the best. Never gave up, totally committed.” He turns his head to look at you, voice lower, speaking directly to you. “You were really great out there. I mean it. I never doubted you for a second. You’re the smartest person in class, so I knew this would be a piece of cake for you.”  

His last statement almost leaves you speechless. Voice trembling from exhaustion and his kind words, you reply, “Thank you. You’re a really great teacher.”

He gazes at you, seemingly forever, sliding his hands down to your elbows, lingering for just a moment longer until he lets you go. Clearing his throat, he announces, “I’m going to catch a few more waves with the guys. I’ll see y’all later.” Is it your imagination or is there a slight blush on his cheeks? It’s most likely from the sun, so you disregard it, not wanting to get your hopes up. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing beside your friends, like you had originally planned. The novel you started earlier is open in your hands, your mind definitely not focused on the words. Instead, you daydream about Eren, relishing what just occurred. All those times in class, fantasizing about different scenarios with him, always convinced that nothing would ever happen. Now, you can’t help letting your imagination run rampant. Still, when you all pack up to take the short trip back to the house, you let those fantasies disappear. There’s no way he feels anything for you beyond friendship. And you’ll just have to live with that. 

Later in the night, with everyone sun-kissed and clean from beach residue, you collectively decide to get cozy in your pajamas. Mikasa ignites the fire pit out on the balcony, perfect for the cool breeze. When four boxes of pizza are delivered, the eight of you huddle around the flames, enjoying the meal as you laugh at the stories being shared. Connie tells a hilarious tale about him and Jean streaking in the dead of night for a dare that resulting in almost exposing themselves to the university’s president. Annie mentions her roommate, Hitch, and how she slapped a creeper at a frat party, who wouldn’t stop annoying her. Sasha asks for advice on how to approach her crush, Nicolo, the young chef at the campus cafeteria who makes her breakfast burritos especially tasty. 

After a while, Eren suggests, “How about some s’mores? I brought the ingredients to make them. What do you say?”

Everyone hums in agreement. He directs his attention to you. “Can you help me in the kitchen?”

You obliged, surprised that he chose you specifically. Following him, you slide the door closed, quiet inside the house except for the muffled voices of your friends outside. In the kitchen, he reaches up for one of the cabinets, grabbing two bags of marshmallows, two big bricks of chocolate, and a box of graham crackers. In another drawer, he retrieves metal sticks to roast the marshmallows. In the meantime, you search for a large baking tray, eventually retrieving it from the oven. “Maybe we can set everything up on here so that It’s easier.”

He smiles at you. “Good idea.”

At the counter, you start unwrapping the chocolate, breaking them into sectioned pieces. Eren does the same with the graham crackers, the two of you working beside each other in a comfortable silence. Halfway through, he asks, “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun! Thank you again. I really had a blast.”

“I did too. It was a lot of fun hanging out with you today.”

“Maybe next time, I can actually learn how to surf for real,” you say, not thinking anything of it. 

He leans closer to you, arm brushing yours as you lay out the chocolate on the pan. “Yeah, next time.”

It’s silent again. You finish the chocolate, washing your hands clean to move on to the marshmallows. One bag in your hand, the other in Eren’s. “So, um, do you have a boyfriend or something?”

This catches you off guard. “No, I don’t.”

“Cool, cool, cool. I’m single too. In case you were wondering.” You’ve never heard this type of nervous energy in his voice before. It’s unusual to hear him like this. You’re unsure how to respond, unprepared for where this conversation is possibly heading. 

“Well, if you ever need someone to study with, I’m always available. The season is over, and I get tired of my teammates sometimes,” he says with a laugh.

“Do you want to study with me?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“I’d like to do a lot of things with you, actually.” There’s an undeniable blush on his cheeks as he pours the remaining marshmallows onto the tray. This can’t be just a sunburn, can it? 

Butterflies flutter in your belly. You look at him, smiling. You can’t chicken out now. Not when he’s giving you this chance, this opportunity. You need to go for it. “Can I be honest with you?”

He faces you, eager. “Of course.”

Sucking in a deep breath for this leap of faith, you confess. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since freshman year.”

His smile widens, brilliant teeth on display. “What? When we used to live at Reiss?”

“You remember?” Your mouth hangs open, shocked that he recalls living in the same dorm as you. 

“Yeah, I do,” he answers. “You’re a hard one to forget.”

“I thought I was invisible.”

He shifts closer, tipping his head to meet your eyes. “Not to me.”

You face him, understanding that he’s always noticed you. He leans forward, lips inches from yours. “Can I be honest with you, too?” You nod, desperate to hear what he has to say.

Even closer now, lips grazing your ear, breath ticklish on your skin, he whispers, “I really like you. I’ve always been too nervous to do anything. I thought you’d only see me as a dumb jock.”

Immediately, you pull back, replying, “Never! I never thought that of you! I think you’re so smart.”

He laughs, eyes crinkled with admiration. “I think you’re so smart, too. And really, really cute.” 

You stare at each other for a moment, wishing this would last forever. Wanting to pinch yourself to confirm this is real. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” The pink hue on his cheeks gradually turns into a red.

A little too eager, you respond, “Yes!”, resulting in him giggling again, pressing his forehead to yours. The contact sets your skin on fire, body tingling with a different type of adrenaline than from earlier. With your eyes shut, you close the gap, lips brushing seamlessly into a delicate kiss. His hand slides behind your neck, sending you shivers as he pulls you in closer.

Suddenly, there’s loud banging on the sliding door, startling you two apart. Mikasa and Annie have their fists on the glass, yelling out something incoherent, Armin tugging on their sleeves in an attempt to stop them. Connie, Jean, and Sasha holler with huge grins on their faces. 

Eren laughs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond, smiling at him. 

You gaze at each other for another couple of seconds, cherishing this special moment before returning outside to your friends, carrying the goods. They all talk at once, hyped about what they just witnessed, berating you with loads of questions and advice. You and Eren sit beside each other, politely redirecting each inquiry and comment until your friends get tired of non-answers, eventually changing the subject. He lays out a warm blanket for the both of you, legs covered, knees touching while everyone begins to roast their marshmallows.

By the time the s’mores are completely assembled, mouths sticky and full of ooey-gooey sweetness, you and Eren munch on your treats happily, holding hands beneath the blanket. 

[mrdogface]

here's something annoying about the dick grayson cop arc:

so, the writer treats internal affairs as inherently villainous because that's a trope in cop movies and tv shows, right, but he forgets to make them do anything villainous. in fact, when dick grayson is framed for murder, they never demand a bribe or seem consciously complicit in the frame, they're just doing their job and following a lead. the reason they are framed as villainous is that they have more power to investigate officers than normal officers have to investigate civilians, which is uh, a good thing actually?

anyway, so internal affairs, what dick grayson literally wants to be doing, is The Bad Guys because starsky and hutch said so

and then

dick grayson joins a secret, probably illegal not-officially-internal-affairs internal affairs??????????

just make IA corrupt. show an IA officer accept a bribe or make the dude investigating dick give one of the officers framing him an ominous nod or something.

god no wonder the batfam has such a thriving fanfiction scene, it's hard to read 90s batfam without wanting to fix it

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Ayy put in ur request mfs😩🫶

(or questions. or thoughts lol)

Request are CLOSE😚

(for now pookiebears, pls do share ur brainrots if u want too!)

Also this shit is 18+

(Out the door if u is underage. Aight now below here is just things me like and don’t like, as well as masterlist)

Here’s thing me like and no like👌

Me likey:

Wandanat (Romantic)

I’m open to NSFW but like not explicit?? (Idk how to explain myself, I’m just not very good at smut😅 But yes you can request that!)

Wanda x Reader (Romantic/Platonic)

Natasha x Reader (Strictly Platonic)

I know there’s not a lot of Masculine!Reader so if you want those just specify it 👍 (Just keep in mind of the previous bullet)

Natasha x Sibling!Reader is my personal fave.

Wandanat x Child!Reader is also 🫶🫶

Me no like:

Wandanat x Reader (Sorry guys, unless it’s platonic yes I can do that)

Natasha x Reader (Again sorry guys, I see her as a mother/sister figure)

(now onto the good stuff)

✨MASTERLIST✨

- Romanoff-Maximoff Family -

Soccer Moms Wandanat

Shopping for School Supplies

Goes on a vacation ('Vacation Dad' Nat x 'Memory of a Dory' Wanda) Part 1 | Part 2

- Wandanat (my beloveds) -

Fatal Attraction Natasha gets hurt during a mission with Wanda, and Wanda for some reason found herself more attracted to Nat. Yes, in her state on injury.

Frog Debacles Wanda and Natasha's child is an animal lover. They have the tendency to bring home whatever stray they find, today was no different. They brought home a damn frog.

Shape of You Wanda's exploring the extent of her powers and can't help but tease Nat with it. And Natasha... well, Natasha discovers something new about herself.

Money must be funny, in a rich girl's world. Natasha works at a beach club, and Wanda is the daughter of the owner. Let's just say, summer wasn't the only thing that's hot that day.

Sweater Weather Wanda and Natasha are friends, maybe even more. People love a classic jock and cheerleader trope. However when Natasha finds out that Wanda's little groupie had been bullying her little sister, it puts a strain on their relationship. Will Wanda be able to redeem herself?

'Chubby MILF' Wanda x 'Beefcake' Romanoff Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |HC

The Adventure of Wanda's (questionable) Hairdos Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Wanda has an obsession with her changing hairstyles, and Natasha is a supportive girlfriend.

Queen of Westview High ('Mean Girl' Wanda x 'Nerd' Tasha) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Last

Stuck in Our Universe (Crackfic that got extended... very much) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 (Holyshit this was long-)

Two Worlds Apart ('Corrupted' Wanda x 'Earth 77' Natasha) Part 1 | Part 2

Love and Immortality ('Witchy' Wanda x 'Vampire' Natasha) Part 1 | Part 2

- Wanda Maximoff x Reader -

Tainted Past Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Years have passed since Westview and Wanda finally has the chance to settle down and live the normal she had always yearned for. However, that comes with a challenge as many were still wary of her. Along the way she met a young man in his early 20s, whom took pity on the witch despite all odds.

Mockingbird America Chavez gave Wanda what she wanted, Wanda sees the love of her life again from another universe. However, her lover's variant already build a life without her...

International Affair (Wanda Maximoff x InternationalStudent!Reader) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Last

Hopelessly in Love (HS au) (Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff x Reader) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Last

- Natasha Romanoff x Reader -

Alternative Proposition Struggling to take care her 5 year old daughter, Y/n took out a loan from the mob to start a small business in hopes that it would resolve their financial struggles. But small businesses takes time to flourish, which Y/n doesn't have and ends up biting her in the ass... or did it?

[halles-comet]

Okay, I have finally girded my loins and am going to watch the saw trap finale of Sherlock for the first time since it aired. I was 20, living in London, and my flatmate was interning for the BBC where they got so many complaints it almost crashed the website. Most of what I remember is that the show ends with the two of them jumping into the air and doing a freeze frame. Let's dive in.

Opens with Mycroft drinking in the dark alone mouthing along to old black-and-white movies. It's fun when two siblings are gay but in very different ways.

This is not how repressed memories work

The writers are all "Sherlock and Mycroft's sister (who we’ve never established before) is a genius beyond either of them. She’s so smart she can hypnotize people into killing themselves she’s basically a god." And then it cuts to her babbling amazing genius gems like:

She's also like "I can tell Sherlock's a virgin because he doesn't play the violin like someone who knows how to fuck"

Steven Moffat loves one thing and one thing only; little girls creepily singing English poems.

THIS IS NOT HOW REPRESSED MEMORIES WORK

They really skate by the "at 16 years old mycroft told everyone his sister died and his parents asked no follow-up questions" of it all

MOLLY HOOPER SHOULD GET TO STRANGLE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE MEN WITH HER BARE HANDS INCLUDING THE WRITERS

The wig they used to cover up BC's Marvel haircut really isn't doing it's job

You have to imagine at one point Andrew Scott was on a short list for a Doctor Who villain because otherwise the camp "I Want To Break Free" dance break is extra gauche

THIS IS NOT HOW REPRESSED MEMORIES WORK

Doesn't John have a baby? When he has to solve gay murder riddles does he just leave her with that woman from the bus he was having an emotional affair with?

They're in a cell that sometimes has glass and sometimes doesn't with no explanation. This is not the level of show that's smart enough to pull that off as subtextual.

JOHN GETS THROWN DOWN A WELL LIKE BABY JESSICA

Whose sister hasn't killed your best friend and then everyone told you she killed your nonexistent dog instead and despite being a famously curious person you just accept this for thirty years? Typical sister move tbh

THIS. IS NOT. HOW. REPRESSED MEMORIES. WORK.

The whole episode they're trying to save a little girl in an unpiloted crashing plane and my brain was like wait a minute I know this trope he uses it all the time it's not going to be a literal plane and then guess what. It wasn't. It was a metaphor for the sister's isolation but somehow she was broadcasting it, in reality, through a radio system with a child's voice for an hour of the episode. To quote Bob's Burgers, it's not a twist, it's a lie. A lie is not a twist!

I was right about the freeze frame. It happened to you. To me. To this country.

[besttropeveershowdown]

The Most Annoying Trope Showdown: Round 1, Poll 28

TV Babies

When adult characters have young children or babies that are always conveniently either asleep or off *vague hand wave* somewhere else, doing something else, whenever the adult(s) needs to do or say things that would be difficult or impossible to do while also monitoring a child, such as continue their torrid affair or run off to battle a monster. Oh and ofc whenever the children do appear, they’re adorable and freakishly mature for their age and never throw temper tantrums, melt down and start crying, or do anything else that’d inconvenience their parent(s). A tv baby apparently never requires a single diaper change, never cries, and never refuses to drink/eat their meal.

Propaganda:

Young kids are a lot of work and bound to cause trouble, and it’s just absurd to pretend that they aren’t. It’s also very…dare i say dehumanizing? to write the adult characters as individuals with their own personalities and plotlines, and then write all the child characters as bland, angelic creatures who are magically summoned when useful to the plot and then magically banished offscreen whenever they’re not. Ntm it’s plain bizarre to write characters who are technically parents and yet are not changed or affected by this experience at all, either internally or externally. Why go to the trouble of giving them children if the children aren’t interesting characters in their own right, don’t make the parental character(s) more interesting, and are always being crudely written around so that they don’t impact the plot either.

Do Unto Others Before They Do Unto You

A group of people uses a weapon on another group so that that group doesn't use it on them first.

Propaganda:

The greatest/worst example of two opposing hero characters holding the idiot ball. Just, why. No amount of superglue and duct tape can suspend my disbelief when this is the main focus.

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

The Years Between Us

Synopsis and Character List

Synopsis

Y/N Y/L/N (21) is a university student who thinks she's found a lifelong friend and mentor in Alessia Styles (37). When Y/N isn't helping Alessia as an intern at her publishing company, she's most likely taking care of Alessia's 5-year-old daughter Ellie.

After returning from a vacation, Y/N is met with an unsettling silence from her closest friend. Desperate to mend whatever rift has formed between them, Y/N embarks on a journey to uncover the truth behind Alessia's sudden withdrawal. When Y/N reaches out to Harry Styles (40), Alessia's husband, for answers, she learns Alessia and Harry's marriage has crumbled due to an affair, leaving Y/N stunned and heartbroken for the couple she's grown to adore.

As Ellie's birthday approaches, Harry extends an unexpected proposal to Y/N. With their divorce finalized, he seeks Y/N's assistance in caring for Ellie during his custody weeks. Though not initially close to Harry, Y/N agrees, intrigued by the enigmatic charm that surrounds him. As Y/N immerses herself in her new role, the line between caregiver and confidant begins to blur, leading to a connection neither of them anticipated.

Characters

Y/N Pierce (21)

Harry Edward Styles (40)

Alessia Styles (37)

Elizabeth (Ellie) Styles (5)

I am so excited for this story! All my fav tropes with babysitter Y/N and an age gap romance 👀 Hope you guys are as excited as I am!!

Tags:

@lukesaprince @harrys-flower @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfeverr @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstufff @gills-lounge @narry-heart

[vampireheist]

Eleanor

Length: (Y/n) 5-part Miniseries.

Genre: Horror, unexpected pregnancy trope, a vampire child, a secret murder coverup, A love child from a twisted affair. Fluff. Daddy/daughter trope. 

Plot Summary: Y/n Barrett, the sister of Adam Barret gets pregnant by Krisfor Lazaar after being Hypnotized and fed on for 6 months during an undercover FBI Investigation, after escaping and disappearing with her brother, 9 months later, She gives birth to a baby girl, who initially seems like a lovely normal child. But as the child ages, so does her thirst for blood. The older she gets, the more monstrous she becomes.   Not understanding what her child is, y/n panic, as she finds dead rats sucked dry, buried Underneath her daughter's pillow, and a dead priest in the middle of the bedroom floor. Scared and frightened, she believes her daughter has possibly brought something hauntingly into the world of the living, and she quickly seeks her brother Adam for help. 2 years later, he used the night of the dead priest, against Y/N. Scared, she agreed to be a part of his kidnapping against a very wealthy man. and That was recommended by an old friend.

🍓🍓🍓 🍓🍓🍓

Prologue

You grew up with an abusive stepfather, and a mother that was so heavily in love she didn't care what caused her children, mental, emotional, and physical pain. 

As you came of age, growing up without any Maternal love and abused mind, you sought Validation from anyone that laid eyes upon you, seeking closure. You became close to your brother Adam, never leaving his side for anything. 

He became your best friend, a father-figure, a Guardian angel, Protecting you from any harm. 

When he got into law enforcement he begged you not to come along, but you heavily insisted- as stubborn as you are- He agreed, warning you to stay alert. 

You always knew how controlling Adam was- but it never bothered you one bit, because you know how protective he can be. 

When it was time to expose the one and only Kristof Lazar, the sheriff director ordered you to take part in the mission- alongside your brother. Adam bans it, not wanting his little sister involved.

 Wanting to make the sheriff director happy, you happily volunteered ignoring your brother's wishes, going undercover as the spy; an undercover Intern Technician hired by one of the bosses that work for Krisfor Lazar.  

On the first day of the job as an undercover FBI spy, you were sent to the top floor to work on a computer chip gone wrong, a business floor that no one dares to go up to unless called upon by the boss. 

You walked nervously down the hall, Snapping your necklace back and forth. When you entered the room, you felt like you were being watched, eyes burning at the back of your head.

 You assume it's just your paranoia, your crowded, noisy brain playing a trick on you. like it always had when you were younger. So, you continued with the mission. 

The room was crowded with digital cameras, computer coding, and other technical software. Examining the room, you searched for the secret flash drive that you wore around your knee high socks. Carefully, placing it there, to not forget it. 

Still feeling eyes watching you, you turned to look back at the entrance, but nothing was there. You sighed, with relief. When you turn back around, you gasp, shrieking away in a soundless scream.

 Lazaar appeared out of nowhere, admiring you with his dark shaded eyes.

You huffed, breathing for air after having a small heart attack. 

You look up at the 6 '3 pale men who stared down at you with a cold emotionless Demeanor. His presence seemed cold, but warm in a way that made someone nervously giggled when flirting. 

You smiled out of fright, pressing your hand against your chest. 

“I'm sorry I didn't see you there,” You snorted, muffling your mouth, biting your lips nervously.  

He lifted his head slightly- not saying a word- Instead, admire you silently. 

Heart thumping, throat tightening, sweaty palms, You breathed, still giggling nervously. “Hi, I'm y/n, I was sent to fix a computer chip.”

“I know who you are,” he whispers, raspily, no emotional change, gently taking your hands into his big palms, pecking a dry kiss.

You stared at the man with widened eyes. Your mind ascending, your body a float, with only your heart steering. 

 “You startled me! I didn't hear you come in,” you chortled, slowly, unsurely falling into a trace. 

“Mmm,” he deeply moans, eyes bugging, breathing in your wonderful scent. 

A few months in, you have completely fallen in love with the crime lore. Your brother Adam thought it was odd, but not strange- Considering you fall In love with anyone you meet Quicker than a shooting star- But his will to protect you, even when you didn't need it- is what fulfilled him- to know you were safe in this world of crime. 

Eventually, 48 weeks later, everything has been successful in taking down the crime lore. Tricking the crime lore to get into his circle and using you to testify against him. 

Everyone cheered, as the court date was set for tomorrow. Everyone went to sleep, preparing for victory. 

When Adam awoke, two rooms down where Krisfor Lazaar Lieutenants were held. He was ordered to check on them, Leaving you, who seems disoriented- stripped away from a trace- in the room to be. 

When he opened room 205, he shrieked, seeing a pile of dead bodies- ripped to shreds-blood splattered everywhere. 

The plan has been demolished. The Victory has been snatched. Someone or maybe a wild animal has come to steal back their Anonymous pride, viciously. Everyone quickly assumed it was Valdez. 

Adam rushed You out of the bathroom, packing every essentials that both of you needed before vanishing. 

For his safety and Yours, he quickly abandoned his own family, leaving behind everything that traced the both of you, And changed both of your names, so you couldn’t be tracked.

[minisugakoobies]

Is this Fixer!Wonwoo's enemy or Internal Affairs!Jay's mentor?

Oh, that's Wonwoo's enemy for sure. Hotshot rookie for an agency like the DEA who has been tracking Wonwoo's associates. He's been shadowing Wonwoo for months, which is why Wonwoo ended up at OC's door looking for a hideout.

Now. I acknowledge that I always have a tendency to turn these things into a love triangle and that's probably a bad habit but... I can't get the idea out of my mind that Mingyu knows OC very well. Like he's her ex, still wounded from OC leaving him (that classic cop trope where he's too devoted to his job and his significant other can't deal), horrified to discover that Wonwoo's using her (or is he?), and maybe (definitely) jealous that she's chosen him instead. How far is he willing to go to bring Wonwoo down? 💕

[spyglassrealms]

Spy's OCs: Zak Kaiyo

art by my good friend, the wonderful @wildegeist!

Realm: Arcverse Species: Tokaya Homeworld: Terotewaukia (Teroteaumia system) Age: 26 annua (29 Earth years) Gender (human analogue): cismasculine (he/him, xe/xen*) Height: 1.8 m Weight: 72.5 kg Occupation: Captain and pilot of the starship Free Spirit; freelance cargo-hauler; occasional mercenary; jack-of-all-trades [Suggested Listening: Burn Out Brighter by Anberlin]

Zakane "Zak" Kaiyo is the co-owner, captain, and pilot of the heavily-modified light hauler Aum Hara (otherwise known as the "Free Spirit") and the leader of a small band of freelance spacers that make their home aboard the ship. He's just one more spark in the great spiral; one more restless soul trying to make a living doing what he can in a galaxy that's always moving and yet always standing still. From the Tyrian Shallows to the Drift and everywhere in between, Zak and his small but loyal crew of misfits can be found anywhere something interesting is happening.

Zak's talented -albeit reckless- piloting skills earned himself and his copilot Arkto a spot in the Galactic Spacecraft Pilots Association Hall of Fame, having broken the record for the smallest crewed ship by mass to exceed 10 million times the speed of light with a hyperdrive. His performative stuntwork is also renowned, and he frequently attends the annual Galactic Pilot Convention.

Most of the "swashbuckling freelance ace pilot" tropes apply to this space hobo, whose personal creed is "do good recklessly." His confidence, determination, and cheerful sarcasm make for an extremely charismatic, if reckless, leader. He's very mischievous and likes to get into trouble, but can be relied on to get out of it as quickly as he gets into it… most of the time. Zak acts fearless but, go figure, this man has Attachment Issues. He hates the idea of getting tied down to one place or thing, yet at the same time he is fiercely protective of his crew. (Shhh. Nobody tell him.)

Zak's homeworld is a backwater: connected to the galaxy and participant in its affairs, but hardly anyone there actually got out beyond the system. He was constantly told that he ought to be happy on Terotewaukia, fixing up interplanetary haulers and maybe going to the outer moons of the system once in a while. He and his two best friends always wanted more. The three of them had plans to quietly fix up one of the written-off hauler derelicts on company time and get the hell out, making their way around the wild starry yonder to see what could be seen.

And then one of them decided they wanted to stay and settle down.

That was the last straw for Zak. As soon as the opportunity arose, he and Arkto (his other bff) took off in their souped-up light hauler and never looked back. But once they were out there... Zak came to realize that the galaxy isn't a really adventurous place.

See, Arcverse is a universe that everyone thinks has been more or less figured out. Galactic civilization has been around for something like a million years or so, and the Arcadian Order have been sort of running the Galactic Assembly for about that long (mostly because they got off their planet first and they do a pretty decent job of wrangling the rowdier civilizations with diplomacy). The entire galaxy is, broadly speaking, at peace. The clash of titans already happened; the fate-of-the-galaxy-level stakes were sorted out thousands of generations ago. All the major starfaring powers, while independent in principle, are constrained by the bureaucracy of the Galactic Assembly. There's mild internal turmoil —and there's always an underbelly— but it's still quite tame. There's a whole galaxy out there with lots to see but nothing to really strive for in it.

Zak Kaiyo is someone who desperately, fundamentally, needs to strive. He wants to live fast and die young in a galaxy where everyone lives at a reasonable pace and dies basically never. He exists to challenge the stagnancy of a world that's as close to utopia as it can reasonably be. Zak wants so badly to save the galaxy, but he lives in a galaxy that doesn't need saving. And that's tearing him to pieces.

[batbeato]

Derived from the really long rambling I just did, and general umineko brainrot, what do you think would happen if Kinzo had been born a woman? Because a relatively 'simple' change in one character alone, changes everything - literally everything - about the story of Umineko.

I guess for one, it depends on if this is a world where everything is completely genderswapped, or where it's just Kinzo...

First off, I don't... think a woman Kinzo would be able to be Head of the family. The elders probably would have picked someone else, primarily because Kinzo as a branch family member wouldn't really have been enticing enough for them to have her take a husband who would take on the Ushiromiya name and act as the Head with her being his wife. They were probably too traditional for that, unless they had a convenient other-doormat Ushiromiya from a different branch with a distant enough blood relation.

Regardless, let's suspend any disbelief and roll with this, where they are that desperate and make Kinzo the Head, assign her a husband to "look after her", etc. Also, female-Kinzo still ends up being in the military and meeting Bice somehow, maybe disguising herself as a man?

If Bice is still a woman, this makes Umineko a (toxic?) lesbian romance, cuts out all the generational abuse of the Beatrices, and we have ourselves a fun time, since Bice never dies in childbirth.

If Bice is a man, we can have ourselves some whacky generational trauma where Kinzo hides some pregnancies. Also maybe Bice dies anyway from something, just to keep it level. Assuming Kinzo's Bice-child is a boy, Kinzo can then abuse Kuwatrice in much the same way, and then "Lion" would be AFAB and "Sayo" would be raised as a boy. This would change a very large amount of things.

First we have the fact that Kinzo would probably be operating off of a lot of internalized misogyny, then we have the fact that Kinzo's husband would Not give off the energy of a very very abused and neglected woman with internalized misogyny forced into a loveless marriage and instead maybe more of a Kinzo-toned-down energy... And then we have how Kinzo being the Head would give Eva so much more ammunition. Oh, and the very different vibes Kinzo/Genji would have, since if they're not same-gender people would gossip about an affair.

Overall I think Umineko would be a story with more empathy towards Kinzo as a very clear victim of misogyny, being controlled by powerful men, trying to take back control, and going way too fucking far (in potential manipulation of Bice and the abuse of Kuwatrice). It might weaken the themes in some ways if not handled carefully since I feel like the trope/idea of a manipulative mother sexually abusing a son can lead itself into some bad places in fiction depending on the writer, framing, and level of care taken, though it is a real phenomenon that happens and that shouldn't be downplayed at all ever in the real life context.

[bropunzeling]

☕️ tell me about your favorite and least favorite romance novel tropes! what makes a published romance work or not work for you?

ok i know i literally just asked @msmargaretmurry this and agree with everything she says but in hopes of having an original thought:

i think THEE biggest factor (besides like. is it well written/actually edited/meet my low bar) is like. does the relationship feel believable? by which i mean, i can like many permutations of relationship (friends to lovers! exes reuniting! bickering tension turning into sexy tension!) but there has to be the ground work of, here are these two people, and here is why they would be attracted to each other, and here is why they would work well together. i really really REALLY bounce on instalove type stories where it's like "well they love each other because they do." simply insufficient for me!! relatedly, there's that post about "does your ship like each other" and ultimately i DO have to believe that these two people like each other. even if it's a growing into liking type story with some animosity to start, they gotta get to that point.

i really dislike, like, miscommunication for the sake of a third-act conflict. miscommunication can work so well but only if it feels organic/natural! there is nothing worse than when you can SEE the author being like "well x can't spit this out bc i need to fill forty more pages"

also i think my first point ties into this like, your plot arc will work better if there is some first phase of the relationship that puts up a barrier to realizing the relationship (can't ruin the friendship, but would he really like me when he was so mean at the ball, etc), rather than "we love each other but external forces are against us". internal conflict will always beat external when it comes to romance!

one thing i DO like in romance is when the background characters are well drawn. i like when there are other relationships as important to the protagonists (friends/family/etc)! it makes everything richer.

finally the sex has to like. be specific! genuinely the hottest scene ive ever read was in the governess affair because it was SO grounded in "here is how these two specific people would have sex" and i was like hot damn courtney!!!!!

anyway i feel like im just repeating becs but it's like. i just want it to feel like two fully realized people who figure out they want to be together, is that so much to ask (apparently yes)