#Where I make it so that Ga On is aware of his attraction much earlier than I think he realistically would be

[amethystina]

When do you think Yo Han fell in love with Ga On? I've always speculated that he fell in love during the show but maybe I'm wrong. Was it after the show ended? What moment triggered that? Just wanted to hear what you think :D

I personally think he fell in love during the drama, yes. But whether or not he realised he was in love during the drama is another question entirely. Though there, too, I'd say yes for my personal headcanon, most likely during the one-month time skip between the explosion and the hearing.

In that very classic: he and Elijah go off to Switzerland, he's suddenly without Ga On for an extended period of time, and that makes him go: "... well, fuck."

Because Yo Han is nothing if not aware of his own emotions (even if he likes to pretend he doesn't have them) and he would notice just how much he misses Ga On. And that the way he does it is unlike anything he's ever experienced before. And, eventually, put two and two together.

So the trigger for him realising is distance and his trigger for falling in love? Just... Ga On in general? x'D Like, I don't think there was one specific thing that made him fall in love. I think it happened in stages, one little piece at a time as Yo Han kept building his understanding of Kim Ga On. Because Yo Han likes to know how things work and study their components, but he probably didn't expect just how many of Ga On's he'd end up loving.

Like: oh, challenges me. Oh, he's actually really clever. Oh, he can cook. Oh, he's kind to Elijah. Oh, he's loyal. Oh, he's cute. Oh, he learns quickly. Oh, he's cheeky. Oh, he's playful. Oh, he's fierce. Oh, he's kind to me.

And so on and so forth.

Basically just a series of puzzle pieces that Yo Han collects and eventually he's just there. He's in love. Because to someone like Yo Han — who sees so many facets of a person and can read situations and people so well — I don't think one moment or one aspect would be enough? I think it would have to be ALL of Ga On.

That's not to say that he has to find every single trait Ga On has to be good or lovable, but I do think he needs to be fascinated. Intrigued. Curious. And that's why he's so fond of Ga On's darker side because it's exciting — it's an interesting, unexpected addition to this otherwise soft, doe-eyed young man. It stands in such stark contrast to Ga On's morals and righteousness that Yo Han can't help but want to see more of it.

And that's also why Yo Han loves how quickly Ga On learns, adapts, and picks up on Yo Han's methods. How quickly he adjusts and fires back, how quickly he can start turning Yo Han's own tricks against him. It's like Yo Han is trying to solve a Rubik's cube but if he waits too long, the colours will have swapped places when he wasn't looking.

And he absolutely loves it.

Long story short, I think Yo Han needs someone complicated with a lot of depth to keep him busy and engaged, and while Ga On might seem plain at first glance, he's definitely not. That boy not only has hidden qualities but is also clever and stubborn enough to give Yo Han a run for his money. And, clearly, that made Yo Han fall in love — and will make sure he stays in love.

So yeah. Something like that, I guess? I hope that answered your question xD

[saltybaltic]

AYO YOU AMAZING WRITER YOU💖 Can you write an nsfw Natasha x reader sex pollen fic where r goes on a mission with everyone and is the only one that gets hit with the sex pollen and thinks nothing of it until they get back for the debrief and r starts feeling the effects during the meeting with the rest of the avengers in there like the fever and aches and is super turned on and humiliated and everyone is confused trying to figure out what’s wrong then Bruce says the only thing that can help is sex and she picks Nat to help her out? Something super smutty 😳

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - EXPOSURE

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X FemReader Fanfic

Synopsis: On a mission you seem to be the only one who’s been hit with this air borne drug. Fortunately you have a great team mate to help you through it

Warnings: 18+ content, f/f sex, sex pollen so the usual dub-con for this trope

Words: 2345

You’d really thought nothing of it until you’d gotten off the quinjet. Even the whole journey home you had felt fine, brushing off everyone’s concern with a flick of the wrist as if it was nothing. You really had felt fine. The exposure to the gas back at the enemy base had been minimal, barely a few seconds, and after a brief once over by one of the SHIELD medics, you had been given the all clear that it was probably fine.

It wasn’t until you were walking towards the briefing room to have the post mission meeting that you started to feel anything unusual. Your skin was starting to itch with a burning hotness that was impossible to ignore. When you had parted ways with the team to quickly get changed out of your combat gear before the brief, you had treated yourself to a very cold shower but if anything it only seemed to have made you even more aware of how hot you were feeling. Washing at all was starting to feel like a total waste of time, your hands already clammy with sweat and the hair by your temples beginning to dampen and cling to the side of your head. Your brain felt fuzzy but at that same time it was like you were thinking with perfect clarity. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

Looking around the briefing room as you entered, it was as if you were wearing tinted glasses, everything not quite the way it should be and with a tinge of deep red or orange. You could feel every beat of your pulse against your skull, every hammer of your heart in your chest. Your throat felt dry yet you couldn’t stop running your tongue over your lips to prevent your mouth from watering.

It wasn’t until Natasha sat down beside you that it became apparent that something was very wrong. The smell hit you like a bus and it only intensified everything you were already feeling. It was like your senses had been dialled up threefold. You could take her all in as if it were carefully arranged layers just for you to enjoy; the coconut of her shampoo, the sweet smell of the lotion she’d applied after the shower, the laundry detergent on her fresh clothes, the smell of her perfume.

Maybe it wasn’t the most subtle reaction you could have had if you were hoping not to attract any attention, but jumping up from your seat so violently that your chair fell backwards with a loud crash certainly ensured that everyone’s eyes were now on you.

“Are you okay?” The concerned voice of Bruce from the other side of the room hit you but you could barely focus on what he was saying.

Standing up from her own seat to look at you more closely, Natasha cocked her head to the side as she examined your flushed skin, heavy breathing and blown out pupils. She turned back to the others in the room with a frown, “See, I told you she wasn’t alright.”

“But the medics checked her over.”

“Oh like they know everything.”

“Well they know more than you!”

“It was only a minor exposure and we don’t even know what it was.”

“She said she was feeling fine on the quinjet, I mean this could be something else.”

“Sure, it’s just a huge coincidence that she feels like this after being gassed.”

As the team descended into an argument, you couldn’t really hear what they were saying. Nor, did you care. You felt restless and fidgety, tapping your foot up and down against the ground as you rubbed at your forearms uncomfortably. Your jaw was clenched tight, tilting your head from side to side to work the muscles in your neck as you tried to get your breathing to return to normal. It felt like an adrenaline rush, that feeling that hits you just as the rollercoaster is about to go over the big drop. But it also felt like a hunger, a craving for something like you were a predator that needed to hunt. It was too hard to put your finger on it, too early in the stages of whatever you were feeling to identify it yet.

The sound of someone calling your name broke you from your thoughts, looking up at the rest of the occupants in the room to see them all watching you expectantly.

“What?”

Sitting down by a laptop at the head of the table, Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose as he tapped a few keys before looking up at you, “I’ll have to use the database we have to try and identify what you’ve been exposed to. But I need you to concentrate and answer a few questions okay?”

You nodded your head, closing your eyes momentarily as a wave of heat washed over your body and you tried to remained focused, “Sure, sure, sure let’s do it.”

“So this gas ... could you see it? Did it have a colour?”

It was so hard to focus on the question, your brain working at a million miles a minute but unable to make sense of whatever it was that you were thinking about, “Erm ... I don’t ... it was kind of ... like a greyish blue, I guess.”

“And a smell? Did it have a smell?”

“It was ... sweet. I suppose. Yeah ... but like ... a dessert or something. Like someone had lit a vanilla candle.”

The questions seemed to go on forever, with the occasional interjection from someone else as they tried to help with the answers. Each question narrowed the possibilities down further, Bruce carefully inputting the information into the computer. By the time he got to the bottom of it, you could barely think straight any more, your hands balling into fists as you tried to process the discussion that was taking place around you.

“That’s ridiculous, they don’t actually use that stuff.”

“Well obviously they do because here we are.”

“If they don’t use it then how is it in their files? We only have the information because we took it from them.”

“But there’s never actually been a case of it being used before.”

“Until now.”

“I mean just wanting to have a lot of sex doesn’t sound that bad, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

“Tony! Can you be serious for one second.”

“It isn’t that simple. This is like a real urge. It can be quite uncomfortable for the subject they-“

“The subject?! She has a name you know.”

“But she’s not gonna do anything crazy right?”

“Well no she won’t do anything she wouldn’t usually want to do but the need will be off the charts. It can drive people crazy if they don’t get some sort of relief from it.”

Finally you couldn’t take any more, clearing your throat loudly to get their attention and gesturing towards the door, “Yeah so this is pretty awkward, little embarrassing, bit too intimate to be honest so I think I’m gonna take off.”

“Wait, you should go to the med bay.”

You interrupted Steve’s statement with a laugh, already making your way towards the door as you used all of your willpower to ignore the powerful surge of hormones and need coursing through your body, “What are they gonna do for me there exactly?”

“I dunno, some of those nurses are pretty cute.”

Despite the fact Tony’s joke earned him a disapproving look from almost everyone, you were actually grateful for it, laughing again as you took his words as your cue to escape and hastily left. You were halfway to your room when you heard the sound of feet hitting the ground behind you.

“Wait up.”

God even the sound of her voice was getting too much now.

“Nat. Please, I really really can’t be around you.”

Despite your statement, the red head fell into step just behind you and followed you down the corridor, “I wanted to make sure you got back alright.”

“And while I appreciate that, you’re way too hot to be this close to me.” your eyes fell closed at your words, the effects obviously starting to hit you stronger now as the confession fell freely from your lips. You never spoke to Natasha like this, you wouldn’t have dared on a normal day for fear she’d knock you to ground. Whatever you’d inhaled earlier that day didn’t seem to share your reservations as the arousal started to make itself known.

Natasha pursed her lips, not wanting to embarrass you as she was fairly certain you would never have normally said something like that to her. Certainly not so blasé. “It’s okay. I know this must be ... overwhelming.”

You snorted, “That’s one word for it. But seriously ... I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.”

“Well I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”

Stopping outside your bedroom door, you looked back at the other woman and immediately had to close your eyes and turn your head away instead as a strong pang of arousal hit you, “Jesus.”

“What? Does it hurt?” the concern in Natasha’s voice was obvious, watching you carefully as your eyes bunched closed tighter and you pushed out a shaky breath.

Shaking your head frantically from side to side, you went to grab the door handle from behind the other woman, “It’s uncomfortable. It’s way too intense. I just wanna ... fuck ... I need to get inside ... I need ... I need you to move, please.”

The sensation of Natasha’s hands coming up to rest on your cheeks caused your breath to catch in your throat. It was almost too much, the feeling of her soft skin on yours was like electricity, a shiver travelling the length of your spine and a heavy drop hitting your stomach. One of her thumbs brushed over your cheek before she spoke, “Let me help you.”

When you opened your eyes to look at her, the feeling that came over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was as if someone else had taken control of you, like you were watching from the sidelines as your body acted of it’s own accord. The moment your eyes had locked with Natasha’s, everything you’d been fighting to control took hold of you and in three brisk steps forward you had the other woman caged between the door and your body, one of your hands coming up to rest on the wood beside her head.

“Natasha.” You paused to wet your lips, ignoring the huskiness to your voice as you scrambled around in your head for the smallest ounce of restraint, “You really need to leave now before I do something I can’t take back.”

If you had been expecting any reaction from the other woman, what she actually did would have been somewhere at the bottom of your list. Over the year or so that you’d worked with Natasha you’d had a mostly professional relationship, though that wasn’t to say you weren’t friendly with one another. However the forwardness of her next move was new territory all together.

Moving her hands from your cheeks, she ran them slowly down to either side of your neck. You could do nothing but lean into the gesture, goosebumps rising and flesh searing at the feeling of her fingertips digging into you. You were so lost in the sensation of her touch that you hadn’t realised she’d leaned closer until her hot breath hit the shell of your ear and she spoke in a low whisper, “But just think how good it would feel if you let me help you.”

Her words actually pulled a growl from the back of your throat, the ever growing heat between your thighs magnifying significantly at her words, “Nat ... last warning.”

Instead of backing down, Natasha tilted her head enough that her lips could attach to the side of your neck before speaking again, “Stop fighting it, I know you want me.”

That was enough. You couldn’t have prevented it no matter what had tried to stop you, pushing the door open with one hand as the other gripped the back of her neck and pulled her into a searing kiss. Practically falling through the door together, Natasha’s hands found your waist and all you could do was groan at the relief of the full body contact. Feeling the way her breasts pressed up against your chest, her tongue slipping into your mouth, her hands around your waist as yours slipped down to grope at her ass. God it was intoxicating and still you wanted more

If you had any control over the urges that were powering your body you’d probably have wanted to take your time. Your attraction to Natasha wasn’t something you were particularly ashamed of or desperate to hide. However you’d barely got as far as building up a friendship with the red head and so jumping straight into sex seemed like you were skipping a few important steps. Not to mention the fact that you were fairly certain this was not going to be a terribly slow or tender encounter. No. With the way you were already pulling her clothing from her body and tearing at your own, you both knew that this was something else all together.

Fortunately for both parties Natasha really didn’t mind. Of course after Bruce had explained the effects you would be feeling, what else would she be expecting really? But in the time the two of you had been working together she had come to care for you and the idea of you struggling alone wasn’t something she cared for. Also she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about you in a sexual way before, granted she never thought this would be how it happened.

In all your haste to get Natasha undressed you actually fumbled several times with the fastening of her bra, sure that you’d be embarrassed under normal circumstances but currently too frustrated and impatient to care. You were relieved when Natasha wordlessly reached around and undid the clasp herself, throwing the item across the room before wrapping her arms around your body to do the same with your clothing.

You could barely register what was happening as the two of you staggered backwards into your bedroom, barely managing not to trip over the clothing and shoes that you’d discarded on the way. You were too lost in her to bring yourself to care about being careful. Just kissing her was absolute heaven. Her tongue sliding over yours, lips working frantically together. You had expected Natasha to be a good kisser and maybe it was just the effects of what you had been exposed to but it was like a sparks were flying, a warm wave washing over your body and a pang of arousal with every soft moan from the red head that vibrated against your lips. The way she would occasionally suck your tongue more harshly into her mouth made you feel wobbly on your feet, and the sensation of her nipping your lower lip between her teeth had you desperate for more.

It didn’t take long for you to be pinned on the mattress beneath her, both naked now and lips still moulded together as she settled herself on top of you. Already you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against her thigh, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that had started to build. If anything you needed it more now, the arousal bordering on uncomfortable as you became acutely aware of just how wet you were against Natasha’s thigh.

The other woman didn’t need to be told, evidence of your arousal already coating her skin. She finally broke the kiss to lean down, but she had barely attached her lips to one of your nipples when you pulled her back up with a frantic shake of your head and a groan, “Please Nat, I can’t wait any longer, just fuck me already, please.”

You felt on the verge of crying you wanted it so bad, the whole experience completely foreign to you. It was bizarre to be overwhelmed with such a primal, animalistic need. Every time you found yourself in bed with a woman you enjoyed everything about it; lavishing her body with attention, the anticipation, the teasing, wanting to take her to the heights of pleasure over and over. This was nothing like that at all. You really just wanted to fuck. More than anything you wanted to come and you were fairly certain if you didn’t soon then it would be the death of you.

Nodding her head in understanding, Natasha pressed her lips to yours again as she propped herself up on one of her elbows, “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You were so soaked by now her fingers slipped easily inside of you and all you could do was lie back and release a loud moan. You weren’t sure whether it was in relief or pleasure but either way you were certain that Natasha’s fingers had to be one of the most wonderful things you’d ever felt in your life. Just one thrust of her digits already had your fingers grabbing at the sheets below you, heels digging into the mattress and head thrown back against the pillow in bliss as finally, finally you were given what you had been craving.

“Good?” asked Natasha, her fingers having stilled inside of you almost immediately as she waited for some kind of signal from you that what she was doing was definitely what you wanted.

Nodding your head hurriedly, you brought her mouth down to meet yours again, mumbling frantically against her lips between kisses, “So fucking good ... keep going.”

Natasha grinned, happy to oblige as she started to move her hand again and picked up a steady pace. Almost immediately your hips were moving of their own accord to match her, grinding down against her fingers as she worked them inside of you. Every thrust was heaven, the woman above you seemingly knowing exactly what you needed as she began to push into you harder and faster with each stroke.

Everything about it was satisfying the urges that had been threatening to overwhelm you. The brush of her hardened nipples against your chest as she moved above you. The frantic pants for breath into your mouth between heated and messy kisses. The intensity of how she was watching you and the subtle smirk on her lips as she knew how much you were enjoying what she was doing. When her thumb came up to brush over your clit you wanted to be embarrassed at the groan of pleasure that rang out in the room but you were too far gone now to care.

All of it was perfect. She was perfect. You could feel your head getting foggy, that faint twitch to your limbs as the pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach. As you tightened around Natasha’s fingers you craved the release that you knew was so close. The way her eyes were locked on you almost made you melt under her gaze, the darkened green eyes and pink tinged cheeks making sure you definitely wanted to have your way with her after this.

You could feel it happening, allowing the sensation of your orgasm to consume you as it started to hit with another brush of your clit and a curl of Natasha’s fingers. A loud cry of her name echoed off the walls at the action, your teeth sinking into the side of her neck in a failed attempt to muffle the noise. You couldn’t catch your breath at the feeling of satisfaction that finally swept over your body, hands gripping at her shoulders and toes curling into the mattress as you relished the moment. Your thighs quivered slightly and you could feel your pussy clenching around Natasha’s fingers, the red head groaning in quiet appreciation at the sensation. It was exactly what you needed.

And just as her fingers were beginning to still, you could already feel the arousal rising again. The tingles of pleasure had barely subsided and you hadn’t even had a chance to catch your breath before you were hungry for more. Natasha seemed to notice it at the same time you did, not missing the way your eyes had clouded over with lust again.

You were filled with relief when you caught her smirking and her fingers started to slowly move again.

Yeah, Natasha was definitely the right person to help you with this problem.

—//—

Find the morning after HERE

[elianas-cozycorner]

𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

Title: “Midnight Confessions”

Author’s Note: One of the final three (3) requests I have from 2018, this particular scenario is something I’ve wanted to write for a while. I absolutely love this plot device, no matter how cliché or overused it may be. I hope you guys enjoy this and have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. To the anonymous requester, I hope you see this. I really wanted to bring justice to your idea, even if it’s more than two years late. 

Request: “Could u possibly do something where the reader and McCree share a bed on a mission (or maybe they just get hurt and r resting) and McCree lays w/ them n stuff and while they’re “sleeping” he confesses his love and that he’s scared to love but it turns out they heard the whole thing ? if not that’s fine, thank u! I love ur writing!” - Anon

Rating/Pairing: 

Jesse McCree/Reader 

Fluff & Brief Angst; GA (General Audiences)

2nd Person, Gender Neutral

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2.2k | Added a “read more” due to the length.

When operations go wrong, there’s little that can be done to reverse the initial mistake. Not only are lives put on the line, but so too are relationships and the foundations of friendship. Being under constant fire, unable to reach backup or safety, really wears down the body and mind. Though some may find a thrill in it, eventually that too wears away. 

In your case, you had been pinned down for nearly an hour. Though your position had been defensible, it was on track to becoming more of a hazard than anything else. It wasn’t clear who was to blame for the mishap, everything having happened so fast, but one moment the team you were apart of was working together and the next you were alone with Jesse McCree. 

Sighing, you pressed your back to a stone wall. It was one of the only walls that sheltered you from the flying bullets and sniper fire. Jesse was crouched across from you, trying his best to peer around the corner for the next viable bit of cover. 

You picked up your earpiece, taking it from the place it had fallen when you had run for cover. Quickly bringing up two of your fingers, you activated the line. “Commander? Commander are you there?”

Jesse spared you a glance, worry in his eyes as he took in your features, before turning back to make sure no one had advanced on your position. There was a faint crackle of static before your attempt at communication was answered.

“I’m here, agent.” Reyes’ voice was rough and you could hear the noise of gunfire through his link. “What’s your status?” 

You knew that he could hear the gunfire on your end as you answered. “We’re pinned down, I don’t think McCree and I will be able to get to you.”

Reyes cursed under his breath before answering. “Everyone’s on board. We’re ready to get the hell out of here. This aircraft has taken too much damage for us to wait any longer. We’ll give you as much cover as possible, but you two are gonna have to get yourselves out of there. Figure out how to get somewhere safe, you know the drill, agent.”

McCree, whose communications system was linked to yours, nodded. You could see he was too focused to give a verbal answer, so you kept speaking. “Copy that. We’re ready when you are.”

__________

“We’ll keep in touch, agent.” The words ran through your head over and over again, even opened the door in front of you. 

After Reyes had provided enough aerial cover for you and McCree to get to safety, you had both gone to the nearest safe house. Each assignment Blackwatch, or Overwatch, gave its agents was well thought out and discussed. Drop sites that were busy had cheap motels or hostels listed in their information packets, or predetermined safe houses when the locations were more secluded. In this case, it was a secluded safe house. The information sheet you had pulled up earlier made mention of a stocked kitchen, running water, and first aid supplies. What it had failed to tell you was how small the place would be.

It was practically a one room flat in the form of a cabin. Half walls separated the less private rooms, with only the bedroom and bathroom having proper privacy. The rooms were cold, the thermostat untouched for a long time, but it would do.

Flicking on a light switch, you watched as the florescent bulbs lit up the kitchenet and living space nearest the door. A deep sigh escaped you as you finally allowed your body to relax, dropping the small bag on your shoulder near the door. “Well, Cowboy, this is home for the next 48 hours.”

The brunette man behind you had the decency not to laugh as he made his way past you. “Seems so, sugar. You can take the bathroom first, I’ll take a look ‘n’ find somethin’ for-”

“Us to change into. I know. You talked about showering and getting your wounds dressed the entire way here, Jesse.” You said, smiling despite the pain of your split lip, as you went to find bath supplies.

“Wasn’t aware I talked so much.” He laughed, shaking his head and making his way to the bedroom.

“You always talk, Jesse.” You were already halfway into the bathroom, a towel in hand, when you heard him laugh in reply.

You took your time removing your armor and torn, military grade suit. It wasn’t often that you came out of a skirmish so battered, so the shock didn’t fully register until you’d locked yourself in the room alone. Sighing, you focused on getting out of you clothes and tried to ignore the sounds of bullets echoing in your head. It was more painful a process than you’d expected, as you’d gotten grazed by more bullets and scraped by more gravel than you cared to admit.

Just as you let out a hiss, there came a knock on the bathroom door. You heard Jesse’s spurs jangle before he spoke. “You alright, darlin’? I left some clothes out on a chair here.”

You called out, “Just fine, Jesse! Thank you, I’ll grab them on my way out.”

“Sure thing.” He smiled as he spoke, and though you couldn’t see it, you could hear it in voice.

It made you smile as well, knowing you had your best friend looking out for you. The longer you thought about Jesse and his kindness, his thoughtful but flirty nature, the more your cheeks reddened and stomach fluttered. You’d harbored feelings for the modern gunslinger for a long time, nearly as long as you’d been friends. It was something you kept to yourself, mainly because of Blackwatch’s strict dating guidelines for its agents. Stepping into the shower, you knew the next 48 hours would be tough to get through. 

_________

Stepping out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, you found yourself staring directly at the bare chest of your cowboy partner. “Jesse.”

“Darlin’.” The smile on his face grew, becoming a large smirk, as he noticed the blush across your face. “Clothes are over there. Mind gettin’ out o’ the way? Man’s got to shower just as much as the next person.”

You shook your head, blinking quickly as you looked back at his face. “You’re the one in my way, Jesse.”

Chuckling, he stepped aside and let you grab the clothes before heading into the bathroom. The image of his bare chest replayed in your mind as you dressed, despite you having seen him that way before. Jesse was built well, sturdy and muscular. His body had definition and flexed with strength when he moved. Slim, muscled, and padded in just the right places, you’d say. Attractive. That’s what it was. Jesse had an attractive body and personality. 

Perhaps that’s why you’d spent so long harboring feelings for him, when you could have tried getting over it. Jesse was a good man, though he had his flaws, and he was always kind to you. He had been your first friend in Blackwatch, your first confidant. You’d been thick as thieves for the longest time, attached at the hip. You’d known him for so long, that it hadn’t been a surprise to you that you found his body similarly attractive. It had been painful to watch him go through relationships and flings, wishing one day he would chose you and stay.

Sighing, you tried to get rid of those intrusive thoughts by taking care of your injuries. Knowing Jesse McCree so well also meant knowing his trouble with commitment and genuine emotion. He got scared, you could easily tell, and pushed people away when they got close. He may have been worth it, worth the bumps in the road, but no one else knew him enough to know that. Not like you did. 

Clink. Clink. Clink. Your thoughts were interrupted by McCree coming out of the shower, fully dressed, and fiddling with his peacekeeper. He seemed to have taken care of his flesh wounds while in the bathroom, a couple bandages visible beneath the black shirt he wore. His damp hair stuck to his forehead, no hat on his head, and accentuated the small cut running down his temple.

He barely looked up as he stopped in the doorway. “Darlin’-”, He started.

You shook your head, standing to take his pistol from his grip. “Let me look at that cut, Jesse.”

Looking up at you, he gave you a gentle smile. “No need, darlin’, it’s not very deep. Ought to heal like a charm.”

“No, sir, can’t have that getting infected now. Besides,” You glanced at the only, small bed in the room and then at the couch just beyond the doorway to the room. “We can talk about sleeping arrangements as I do.”

Wordlessly, he sat at the edge of the bed and let you get to work. “You know, that couch is old.”

“Mhm,” You focused on your task, making sure to pay attention to his words nonetheless. “It’ll likely be a back killer.”

“Absolutely. Reckon I should take it.” He moved his head a little, wincing at the pressure you put against the cut.

“I have the better back, Jess.”

“Sure, but we wanna keep it that way. ‘Sides, I wouldn’t be much o’ a gentleman if I let you take it, would I?” His comment made you laugh and he smiled at you, glad to see you so happy.

“Stuck in the West again? Acts of chivalry are rare nowadays, Jess.” You said and pulled your hands away from his face, finished with your work.

“We could share.” His suggestion threw you off, especially when you saw he wasn’t joking. 

“You sure?” Your voice was a little nervous as you spoke, something he picked up on.

“As the day I was born. Only if you’re comfortable, darlin’.” 

“Yeah. Okay,” You smiled, helping him to his feet.

________

Jesse was wide awake, his thoughts running a mile an hour. On his back, he could feel where your back met his side, he could feel each even breath you took. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you were awake. You lay facing away from him, eyelids heavy, breath even, and mind somewhere else. He assumed you’d fallen asleep.

With a soft sigh, he pulled his hands from behind his head and turned around. He tried his best not to wake you, keeping his chest from being flush against your back. He tried his best to keep his hands from touching you, but couldn’t help it when he reached up to brush some hair out of your face. It caught your attention, but you didn’t move, too sleepy to care. You just listened as he sighed once more and shifted just a little closer. 

“Darlin’,” He whispered. “I’ve gotten ‘round to thinkin’...”

He paused, almost as if trying to convince himself to stop talking. “I’ve been thinkin’, and I can’t live without you. I’m scared. I’ve loved you for so long now but I’m jus’ so afraid. I could’ve lost you today. I don’t know what went wrong, I don’t want that fear of not knowing in my heart, but I ain’t strong enough to tell you-”

He took a deep, steadying breath before reaching out to you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and, carefully so as to not ‘wake’ you, pulled you completely into him. “Look at me. Confessin’ in the dark while you sleep, not hearin’ a word. It’s pathetic. Truth is, no matter how much I try, I can’t seem to say the words to your face. I want to look at you and say it, I want to keep you close, but I’m a coward. I’ve never been the type of man to commit to no one like that. I don’t think I’m the kind of man to love like that. Never have been. But damn, darlin’, if I can’t help wantin’ that with you. Want to keep you safe, by my side, always, but... but I ain’t the type of man worthy of you like that...”

He trailed off and you, now wide awake, could feel small drops of water hit the back of your neck. Jesse McCree, the strong, charming cowboy was crying. It broke your heart, so much so that all the words you’d thought to say to him left your mind. He was so worth it, so much more than he gave himself credit for, and you loved him. Just as he was.

Turning around, you watched his face mold from sorrow into shock. He tried speaking, but you didn’t give him the chance, “Darlin’-”

Your lips met his before he could utter any more words. It was a soft, emotional kiss that tasted of salt. His tears fell harder, and you only pulled away to hug him closer. Wrapping your arms around him and locking your legs together, you didn’t have to say much to get him to hear you.

“You are my everything, Jesse. I’ve always loved you.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Crew of the Omen.”

A little bit from the other new alien species aboard the ship, as requested. I hope you like it :) 

Tesraki

The Tesraki had all worked with humans before, but when they mean they had worked with humans, it was more like they had been around in the area where humans were working and mostly tried to stay out of their way. Between the two younger Tesraki Captio and Subit, they talked a lot about how the soldier Tesraki,  Etium had been involved in the Drev war..

They weren’t entirely sure if that was true or not seeing as there were very few Tesraki who had actually survived an encounter with the Drev, but the chunk missing from his ear, and the way he seemed to show so much deference to the humans when they first stepped aboard the ship.

Than and he didn’t seem as afraid of them as the two younger Tesraki were.

And there was a lot to be afraid of

Stepping aboard the human ship, it became very clear that they were entering a different world.

They huddled together behind Etium, their ears drawn back to their heads, their tails tucked together as they stood before the massive room watching as large machines and hovering trucks rolled by. The human voices were raised, yelling up over each other in their guttural chattering call. They had been on the ship before of course, but this would be the first time the doors would be shut behind them.

A group of humans stepped past them, their large armored feet clattering against the ground, their bodies moving like lithe snakes.

There was a lot of money being moved here, and a lot of money being moved very poorly, though none of them were quite sure how to bring that up.

“New meat!”

They turned on the spot to see a human sitting cross legged atop a cargo crate. It showed them his teeth. The two younger Tesraki squealed and backed away hiding behind the older as they looked up at the grinning predator above them.

Etium seemed to be the only one who wasn’t concerned.

“M-meat.” One of them whispered 

He wasn’t aware the word accountant meant something different in their culture… that being that they were going to get eaten.

The human slipped down from where he was sitting to land on the floor.

The Tesraki squealed again and backed away.

“Fresh meat is a figure of speech. Just means you are new on the ship. We don’t eat sentient lifeforms.”

They couldn’t help but notice that he left out the non-sentient lifeforms. When the humans looked at them, they looked at them hungrily, like maybe fresh meat had not been some sort of figure of speech like it was claiming. Still, they kept relatively quiet unsure of what to believe.

“Don’t listen to them, they just like to mess with people.”

The Tesraki turned in a sharp circle watching as another human came marching up through the ship long fur billowing about their head.

“They don’t mean any harm. It's just a social hazing ritual they like.”

“I am familiar.”

The two younger tesraki glanced at Etium ears pulled back.

That would have been nice to know earlier.

They looked back, watching as the doors receded into the distance, and knew they were walking into a den of predators.

Celzex 

Everything here was big, very big, and it sort of managed to make them very angry. They marched onto the ship, though their marching didn’t get them more than a few feet onto the human ship before they almost got stepped on by a marching column of humans. They froze in place led by their leader who stood tall before them, the very real son of lord Celex, Lord Avex.

He waited, and they waited, for his great stature to attract the attention of the humans. 

Of course, it did not take long until his presence stopped another column of humans bringing cargo in from the other side of the hanger. They drew to a halt just before the Celzex, their eyes widening in fear. A few of them made vocalizations of confusion and intimidation, that manifested as very high pitched squeals for a human. They lifted their hands before their faces and chest as if to guard themselves from the danger that the Celzex possessed.

“Lord Avex, we were told of your imminent arrival.” One of the humans announced bowing his head, “There was an…. Extensive briefing about how to treat your eminence.” They bowed their heads in that way humans tend to have to show difference towards their betters.

“Please, allow me and my comrades to escort you to your quarters.” The humans lowered themselves slightly towards the ground, dropping onto one knee, “As a sign of difference to your great status please use these men as your mounts, for the ship is large and we have a long way to go. 

There was a silence as Lord Avex waited eyeing the humans with some concern.

They were a proud race.

From the corners of their eyes, the Celzex could see the humans shifting nervously, probably out of fear and awe to how great and terrible the Celzex truly were in such numbers. 

“We will accept your offer, human.”

The humans prostrated themselves even further, lowering towards the ground so the Celzex could blimp aboard, first onto their knees and then onto their backs, and then onto their shoulders as they took back to their feet. 

From the back of a human they were very high up, and very impressive.

Lord Avex was sure that their group cut a very imposing parade across the ship. The Celzex atop their human mounds, two of the most dangerous species in the galaxy.

And they did turn more than a few heads as they went, with wide eyes and open mouths the other humans stared and made similar sounds of awe and fear as had the others.

The humans on which they rode appeared more than smug, their head lifted pridefully clearly pleased at those they were able to carry.

It was a great honor after all, and who could blame them for thinking so.

The other humans must have been jealous to ferry along such important figures as the Celzex.

And of course they were eventually brought to their quarters on one of the middle decks. It had all the things that they requested, and promised access to a human 24/7 if required.

One of the humans bowed their head to lored Avex, “My lord, Admiral Vir was sorry he could not be here to witness your glorious arrival. He sends his deepest apologies and an invitation to a meal tonight as a human show of good faith. Also, due to his laxness and improper greeting he would be more than willing to act as your steed whenever you wish for his insolence and penance.

Lord Avex found this to be an agreeable apology.

Somewhere Adam Vir was quite pleased with himself for coming up with such a smooth reason to hold a Celzex, while continuing to maintain interspecies relations with one of the most powerful species on the planet.

Burg

Maverick was surprised to find people in the chapel when she walked aboard, less of people and more of an alien and a few people when she stepped in. She was even more surprised to find that this particular alien was not a Tesraki, or a Celex, but a bug-like creature with sharp mandibles, and an array of colorful wings.

“Burg!”

She said the phrase out loud, surprising herself and the burg, who nearly leaped out of it’s own carapace as it turned to look at her. Its wings were a pleasant blue color shot through with little streaks of brilliant green. 

It rested a few of its front hands together and bowed to her as she pulled to a stop, “Greetings, I am Miran, religious scholar of the burg and a social envoy of the new king and queen of the burg homeworld. I am here to foster a mending of relations between our two species and contribute some of our knowledge and culture to your endeavors.”

Maverick lowered her hands.

“I see, I wasn’t aware that the Burg were part of the GA.”

The creature sat on one of the pews, “We are not, formally, but we have since updated our status as a protectorate of the GA while we attempt to mend things between ourselves. Forgive me for startling you so, but I had hoped that you might accept my help in your religious gathering room. During our time of war, the old queen tasked me with learning about your species, and in so doing I fell upon your thriving religious culture that reminded me of the stories of our own before the queen abolished much of our tradition.”

“A burg who is a religious scholar…. I would not have assumed that.”

“And what denomination do you frequent?” He wondered looking at her with expectant eyes and a surprisingly open face for a creature she had once thought to be hideous and gut churning. The butterfly wings helped she supposed, “A random flavor of Christian, though it’s not really important.” She walked over to sit next to the burg who was looking around their little chapel with great interest.

“Do you have a religion?”

The burg’s antenna twitched, and it clicked it’s mandibles, though the way it performs the action was less worrisome than the way that she had seen it in the past, “I do, I do. I follow the old religion, in a time where the burg believed in many gods. I Believe mostly in the gods of the east, the ones that frequent the tops of mountains and are connected with the ideals of honor, adventure, and scholarly pursuits.”

“Honor?” She asked in surprise 

He sighed, “I understand it will take a while for your species to see us for what we really are rather than what our queen has led you to assume about us. But once upon a time we had a rich culture that was perpetuated on the ideals of honor and loyalty, though that loyalty was soon corrupted into the ability to hold grudges for a very long time and that bravery crossed a line into stupidity that nearly had our nation destroyed, but…. I had honestly hoped to talk about more enlightening subjects. Please, tell me more about your great culture and religious traditions.

Maverick smiled, “Where to begin…”

Finnari 

The humans were so nice to them. At first they had assumed that the humans would be scary, and they had been right. The fins on the sides of their heads had flared in agitation as they saw the humans, and they had backed away in concern and worry as soon as someone had approached.

But as the humans stopped and bowed, they were surprised and the gentle way in which they moved, and even reached ou  to touch the finnari in a kind way.

They were welcomed aboard the ship with open arms, and it was quickly accepted that here is where they would be safe.

Here they would be accepted.

The finnari are very trusting like that, and so had no problem when their quarters were proven to be situated right in the middle of the human quarters away from the other aliens at the center of everything. This had something to do with their role on the ship, working specifically with the psychological team (They were expected to be needed quickly) Two of them were healers, nurses by trade, and the other two worked with psychological issues, one of them was certified in a cuddle clinic as it was shown the Finnari ahd a similar impact on other creatures as the humans did.

They would be comfortable here, surrounded by all the humans where they would be safe. WHen you are friends with the wolves, there is nowhere safer to be than in the midst of their den.

And so they got to meet and to know their human comrades very quickly, invited to play games and to sit and chat, A few of the humans, less affable than the others might have attempted to be snappish or aggressive towards them, but they were quickly cut off by other humans who would not allow that sort of behavior.

They were going to get along very well aboard the ship.

Conn

There were more voices here than there ever had been before, and threw as a lot of work for him to get done. Conn had been pleased to learn that he was one of the reasons others were forced to sign a waver when boarding the ship. THey had to acknowledge his presence and tell the GA and the UNSC that they were not liable if Conn decided to share any of their personal secrets. They had to make sure that the UNSC or the GA could not be sued if Conn decided to do something stupid.

He was even more pleased to learn that many potential candidates had dropped out when hearing that he would be on the ship.

He was not, however, particularly pleased about their new mascot, a white Leviathan emblazoned on the side of the ship. The Admiral had argued that the thing had saved his life and Conn had argued that that thing had tried to eat his people in the past.

However when the Admiral pointed out that conn didn’t really care about them he hadn’t really been able to argue, and shut up despite his grouchiness.

Now he was fulfilling a role that the Admiral had given over to him rather silently.

The man hadn’t exactly asked him to do it, in fact he had specifically tried to avoid thinking about it when conn was around because he didn’t think the idea was particularly ethical.

Honestly, it was the whole reason why conn had decided to do it in the first place. If the Admiral didn’t want him to do it for ethical reasons, he was totally going to do it. In a way, Conn was sort of the defacto police force on the ship, monitoring thoughts and the minds of others as he went through trying to determine who was going to be a a problem and who was not though he didn’t mention these to the admiral just yet.

He sort of wanted to see what they were going to do, besides, the Admiral still needed to be punished.

He flated up the hall, reaching the familiar mind of the animal waffles, who he had come to familiarize hismelf with. She was very nervous when it came to leaving the commander now, worried that he was going to vanish for no good reason only to leave her alone like had done not so many months ago.

The Admiral did not plan on it, so he tried to sooth her animal mind just a little.

He floated onto the bridge and behind the man’s seat.

He knew when Adam sensed him.

And they both acknowledged each other

“Conn.”

“Admiral.”

‘Everything goes well?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The Admiral seemed pleased conflating the fact that Conn would do something if anything was ACTUALLY WRONG.

Conn was annoyed to realize he was right. 

[angelixskz]

change my mind; h.js

↳ pairing; han jisung x reader

↳ word count; 1.9k+

↳ genre; fluff(?), suggestive [heavy making out bros]

↳ summary; you didn’t find eboys attractive, but han jisung was an exception to that rule

↳ song rec(s); [these popped up when I searched up eboy songs and they are EXPLICIT] 

cha cha.freddie dredd / pumpkins scream in the dead of night.savage ga$p & 93feetofsmoke / yeah right.joji 

↳ a/n; no, this was not my way of simping over eboy!jisung. this is for the lovely miss eiko @jeonginks. also totally didn’t use ‘quiet murmur of passion’ because I was too flustered to type groan. 

↳ warning(s); making out and wandering hands

You were getting something to drink.

That’s why you left your room. Not because you wanted to watch Jisung film a tiktok, no way.  You took a sip from your cup of water. He wasn’t doing anything. He was just sitting there on the couch in his red and black turtleneck layered under a black graphic tee, matched with ripped black jeans. His lips were twisted in thought as he stared at the unpackaged rings in his hands. 

You knew those rings. Just a few days ago you complimented the model advertising them on an ad. You told him that it’d look good with some of his outfits and that he should consider adding more rings to his jewelry collection. You didn’t think he would actually buy them. And you most certainly didn't think he would use them in his tiktoks; you really meant it in general, not specified to his eboy endeavors. As you thought about it now, with another sip of your water, it would work well with anything he wore, his fingers would compliment the rings beautifully either way. 

Before your thoughts could delve any deeper, they were interrupted by the aforementioned boy when he called out your name.

“Yeah?” your voice cracked. 

“Can you come here for a second?”

Odd, but you complied. You set down your glass of water on the counter and made your way to the seat next to him on the couch. Your shoulders brushed when you sat down, “What’s up?”

He continued to stare at his rings, “You mentioned that you didn’t like eboys.”

You chuckled slightly, recalling when he asked you if him making eboy content would be an issue. ‘Can’t have you falling in love now, can we?’ he teased. You reassured him that you weren’t swept off your feet by eboys and then proceeded to clown him for doing that dumb eye roll thing. Funnily enough, he popped up on your ‘for you’ page later on that day.

Yes, you watched the video of him do what you clowned him for. Maybe you should’ve swiped away. Maybe you should’ve just continued on and remain unknowing of his media presence. Maybe if you hadn’t listened to the itty bitty tiny voice of curiosity in the depths of your brain, then you wouldn’t have the sight of Jisung’s eyes rolling as his fingers drummed the temple of his head seared into your memory.

But just because he happened to look hot in that video didn’t mean that your whole opinion on eboys changed.

“Uhm, yeah, they’re not my cup of tea.” 

“So does that mean I’m not on your radar?”

You blinked at your roommate. 

You knew the way he acted in front of the camera; the eboy who wore a cocky smirk as he bit into the chain hanging from his neck; who turned his head with a scoff to show off his sharp jaw and metal cross dangling from his ear; who ran his ring covered fingers through his dyed hair as his darkly glazed eyes hypnotized you. Jisung did all these things purposefully, aware that he’s capturing hearts. 

However, he was an eboy, and you weren’t attracted to eboys.

Most certainly, that was an excuse. A lie you told yourself to push away the fact that Jisung wasn’t only a tiktoker, no. He was also your roommate; the dramatic guy who looked at you with utter disbelief when you asked him for a bite of chocolate cake but would eventually lend you a slice; the bored study buddy who always fell asleep on your shoulder when the two of you spent hours at the library; the comedic friend who commentated on the dumb actions of characters while the two of you watched a scary movie. Jisung, your roommate, did all those things naturally, unknowingly capturing your heart. 

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Han Jisung was on your radar, whether or not he bit a chain on camera. It’s best you lie, though, because there’s no way that he likes you back. 

“Yeah,” you fibbed, “I don’t find you attractive just because you show off your hands on camera.”

“So you don’t think I’m hot?”

“Nope.” 

“Then what if,” he paused, “what if I could change your mind?”

You laughed slightly, “Change my mind? Does it feed your ego to know that I thirst after you like all of your followers?”

It was his turn to blink at you. “N-no, that’s not what I was aiming at.”

You raised a brow at him, “Then what’re you trying to do ‘sung?”

He clicked his tongue, “Never mind.”

“Don’t chicken out on me,” you frowned, slightly pushing his shoulder.

“Whatever, it’s stupid,” he mumbled, looking away.

“Hey, I’m just kidding!” you reassured, “go ahead and continue on with your plan to ‘change my mind’ about eboys.”

He looked at you for a moment, eyes clouded in thought. “I don’t see why it matters, though,” you added.

“Maybe you’ll see me in a different light.” Jisung let that slip out, eyes widening when he realized what he confessed.

Suddenly, your mind flashed back to the other day when you watched him bite his lip, eyes scanning the camera up and down. You already saw him in a different light. 

He cleared his throat. “Just sit there,” he instructed, “you’re going to act like you’re watching me through the phone?”

“Wait, why don’t you just record yourself and then-”

“That wouldn’t change your mind,” he tsked, “it’s better to see it live anyway.”

You gave him a weird look, “Okay.”

His back was towards you as he unpackaged the rings he was holding earlier and pressed play on his phone. You silently watched as Jisung turned around. Oh no. This wasn’t good. His eyes stole away your breath, your heart was starting to beat faster, and it felt strangely hot in the ventilated room. So far, all he did was pose in different positions. You’ve seen it before, you’ve watched his videos, so why, why was it hard to look at anything else, to feign disinterest? 

Your breaths stuttered when he started walking towards you.

“Ji,” you nervously chuckled, “what’re you doing?”

“Oh you know, those close ups,” he smirked, stepping towards you, “when the camera zooms in.”

You moved back slightly, eyes averted to anything but his face and close it was to yours, “Where is the camera focusing on?”

“Wherever you’re touching,” he explained, attention never drifting from your face.

Hesitantly, you reached up and touched the metal dangling from the loops of his jeans. 

“I thought you weren’t going to buy this?” you muttered, reflecting back to last week when you shoved them into his hands, convinced that they were a worthy purchase.

“You said it looked good on me,” he shrugged.

Your fingers ghosted their way up from his stomach and to his ear. The tick of the hi hat from the song hid the way his breath hitched. He was glad that you were too focused on the earring to notice the red flush of his ear when your hand brushed against it. 

“You always use these and then leave them on the bathroom sink,” you frowned. 

“It’s funny seeing you annoyed,” he admitted, smile widening when you glared at him.

You gently brushed your fingers over his eyes. He closed them in return. 

“You’ve never rolled your eyes at me,” you commented, almost laughing at how often he did it on the app. The bass thumped. You trailed your hand down his cheek. thump. you continued to slide past his jaw. thump. You played with the hem of his turtleneck. thump. You then lingered your fingers on the chains that hung from his neck. Another beat of the bass vibrated through the air, whispers of the melody floating along with it.

“Don’t I look good?” he teased.

You looked back up at Jisung’s eyes. They were closed. And you didn’t know why you finally decided to cave in to your desires, but you did. You didn’t know how you got the sudden courage, but you did. You didn’t know what compelled you to lean forward, but you did. 

You tugged on the chains around his neck and pressed your lips against his.

His lips were soft. Soft, smooth and unmoving. His lips were unmoving. Regret was quick to climb up your spine. He didn’t react, he was frozen still. You squeezed your eyes shut at the cracking of your heart. The pieces fell into your stomach and you started to feel nauseous. You started to pull away. Jisung chased after your lips.

Swiftly, he sat down on the couch, quick to pull you in his lap. His hands wasted no time to cup your face and place his lips against yours. The tempo was a bit slow, and so was Jisung. He took his time moulding his lips against yours, savoring how they brushed together. His lips were soft. Soft, smooth and, this time, moving. It felt way better when he kissed back. 

His hands started to trail down your jaw, slowly moving to your shoulders and daintly danced down your arm. You mindlessly let him guide your hands around the nape of his neck, his breath against yours too intoxicating for you to do anything else but close your eyes in bliss. Again, his fingers danced along your arms, leisurely moving up to your shoulders. HIs hands didn’t stay still, sliding down your back and pushing you closer towards him. For a moment, they lingered on your lower back, keeping you pressed against him. Soon, they trailed lower, rubbing up and down your thighs. 

His lips kept in pace with his hands, slow and steady. He started to peck softly, hands sliding to the edge of your shirt, fingers fiddling with the hem. 

“Only if you want, love,” he mumbled between heavy breaths. The nickname rang in your ears, softly filling your stomach with warmth . You stroked his cheek, sighing a ‘go ahead.’

In no time his lips were back on yours, but he had more vigor when he pressed up against you. You slightly jumped when his hands crept under your shirt, the coolness of his rings contrasting to the heat radiating from your body. His hands caressed your sides, thumbs rubbing circles as he took away your oxygen. 

You didn’t mind it, though. You didn’t mind the lightheadedness he gave you, the honey that he breathed in your ear, the yearning in his touch. Ecstasy flooded your veins, pushing your thoughts into cloud 9. You felt energized, like you could fly to the moon, yet there wasn’t enough energy to open your eyes. You started to toy with the roots of his hair. He pulled away, a sigh leaving his mouth as the swirling of his thumbs faltered.

Lazily, you opened your eyes. Harsh breaths pushed past his swollen lips that were colored the same red flush of his cheeks. You chuckled and brushed the hair away from his heated forehead, teeth moving to nibble on his bottom lip. His grip on your sides tightened and he let his eyelids fall, forehead leaning against yours. He released a quiet murmur of passion. With all his strength, he lifted his eyelids, a curse floating between his teeth when your tongue started to massage the bites you left on his lip. His hands started to move to move again, wandering the expanse of your body. 

He leant his forehead against yours, “Did I change your mind?”

His fingers trailed down your spine. “No,” you shakily replied.

Jisung started to peck your cheek. He left a trail of soft kisses down to the jaw. “Is that so?”

Your voice was breathy as you replied, “Yes,” With a hum, he sucked lightly on the skin of your neck. 

“Sounds like you need more convincing.”

[faraway-in-headspace]

I?? I searched Chicken Choice Judy on google out of curiosity because it sounds oddly familiar like there’s a similar-sounding name and I found 4 websites selling the shirt design. But the descriptions on these pages are BUCK WILD??

Written version of the descriptions under the cut (very long).

[Begin ID

First image states:  Long ago, when I had hair, I was an undergrad living in a house with nine other men. Near as I can tell, three of them (not sure which three) never bought food, just lived off what they stole from the Chicken Choice Judy shirt But I will love this other seven. We had several house meetings about it, but nothing changed. One day, I came in from grocery shopping. By coincidence, all 10 of us were in the kitchen. I started putting my stuff away. 1st thing I pulled out of the bag was my half-gallon of milk. I opened the carton, took a couple of drinks from the carton, then gargled some of it, and spit it back in. I opened my tub of margarine and licked the whole surface. By now, the room chatter had stopped because the other nine jaws had dropped open.) To your original question, those specific topics would take several years to build, as they depend on several layers of pre-requisites, which would require either that more advanced topics such as algebraic topology to be taught in elementary school, or that the buildup process happened blazingly fast during high school – both of which probably stretch the biological limits of what pre-teens and teenagers can reasonably be expected to accomplish. I spit on all my veggies, took the bread out of the package, and licked and spit on it, then carefully put it all back in the plastic bag. Remind teenage daughters to look through them before going on date with the boyfriend, in case they want to use one. I labeled it all and put it away. None of it was stolen. I never said a word, but I made it a point to repeat the performance anytime anyone was around to see it. Others began to emulate my approach and food theft stopped. Even I found it revolting, but it solved the problem. Works even better if you are sick or can at least make your thieving roommates think you are. While some cities are starting to reopen in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, people around the country are continuing to wear masks in public and practice social distancing. Vogue is committed to staying safe, and offering hopeful, optimistic content that highlights moments of camaraderie and exceptional acts of heroism from around the world. We are all looking for a little comfort too—be it a soothing Instagram account or a stylish creator on TikTok. It reminds us of the power of little things.

Second image states:  A couple of guests informed me my office was too minimalist and that they expected more things to be hanging on my wall the Chicken Choice Judy shirt besides I will buy this next time they visited my wife’s and my home. I kinda hope they held their breath while they were waiting for our next invitation. They both went on to backstab me and my wife pretty bad a few years later. Another set of guests tried to squat. I had driven them all the way from Florida to Massachusetts under the impression that they had jobs and a place to live lined up. They offered no money for gas, hotels on the three-day trip, or compensation for the inconvenience and effort. He even tried to weasel out of the dinner he offered as a thank you by forgetting his wallet. The dude got me off the streets years ago and I wanted to pay him back in some way, but my wife and I were in no position to have extra residents in our home. We just don’t have the room or money. I made all of this VERY clear and told my old buddy that we could only house them for a couple of days max. There are MANY other details, but the disrespectful thing my former friend said was wordless. As I was kicking them out and they were angrily loading stuff into my car to bring them anywhere but here, my buddy left his gigantic knife right in the center of my wife’s desk. Like that was supposed to make us change our minds and let them stay? In the days of dial-up, I had a family call and not be able to get through because we were online. They decided to show up unannounced. They literally caught me in my underwear as they were let into the apartment before I could even react to being rudely surprised. Some of my family members have a history of abuse, violence, and stalking, something at least one of the visitors, my mother, was quite aware of since she lived through it with me. Her tagalong friend decided to put in her two cents and tell me I should get a call waiting or a second line because they were trying to call me. That did it! I suddenly forgot I was just wearing underwear and angrily asked my mother’s friend if she was paying my phone bill. My mother-in-law, stepfather and mom’s friend beat a hasty retreat and NEVER did the pop-in ever again.

Third image states:  That was why when we did get to reality shows, Etro and then Dolce & Gabbana plus Jacquemus later in France, it was wonderful. Clothes are all about contact: As a wearer, you feel them on your skin, and as a watcher, you process them with your eye. The watching part can be done secondhand, but the Chicken Choice Judy shirt in contrast I will get this impact will always be second to the real thing. I read some commentators in the U.S. saying, “Too soon” or “Wear a damn mask!” which I always did, but these opinions while valid enough lack perspective. Milan and its surrounding region Lombardy went through what New York did but earlier. Through sagacious governmental management much more effective than that of the U.S., Italy has managed dramatically to flatten the curve across the rest of its territory. These shows just like the reopening of flights, stores, factories, and restaurants were symptomatic of recovery that, far from being taken for granted, is being tended to with vigilance and cherished with gratitude. The digital Fashion Weeks were better than no Fashion Weeks at all, but as an upgrade on the real thing? Nah. Like everyone, I missed the shows in the experiential sense this season. But for the first time since I began covering the collections several years ago, I didn’t miss a single brand or designer’s contribution to Paris Fashion Week. Which is to say, thanks to the Fédération’s online platform, I was able to watch every name on the haute couture and men’s calendars. This brand on-demand convenience not to mention being spared the logistical headaches of zigzagging across the city was pretty great. Also, everything was on time, from the films to the manner in which we filed our reviews. While efficiency can be satisfying, it’s not necessarily exciting. Ultimately, we had to accept that the focus this season wasn’t going to be the clothes but rather the brands conveying some combination of identity, process, and values. And in the absence of standardized criteria as in, showing a minimum number of looks, specifying a time range, it was interesting to observe how heterogeneous these experiments proved to be quasi–ad campaigns versus short films, conceptual or fantastical visions versus raw and documentary style. A proper kimono takes nearly an hour to put on – I’m sure most Japanese girls would much rather spend a few seconds and slip on a dress. Get survey responses from targeted consumers today.

Fourth image states:  Around a decade ago, not long after he started his own label, Massimo Alba made a great mistake. A batch of shirts and T-shirts he was working on that had already been garment-dyed one color were mistakenly exposed to another. Speaking at his showroom presentation this weekend, Alba said: “It’s very interesting to me that so many good things start out as mistakes like this.” That accident was to Alba what the Chicken Choice Judy shirt moreover I will buy this mold-infected petri dish was to Alexander Fleming: a stumbled-upon eureka that led to a career-defining course of the investigation. This collection featured a series of softly tailored jackets, corduroy pants, and shorts, plus light cashmere sweaters that were hand-overdyed two, and sometimes three colors. It’s a process that led to variations in tone that included acid-trip floods of purple on purple to subtle bleeding of magenta across mustard yellow. Like most of Alba’s garments, these dyed pieces appeared at first glance conventionally prosaic. The more attention you gave them, however, the more their exceptional qualities became evident. Take a pale blue jacket, for instance, which at that first glance seemed passingly related to a surgeon’s scrubs. To the hand it was light and almost textureless in its softness: The fabric was a cotton mousseline developed for Alba by Albini. Long-sleeved, in a delicately mottled finish of washed-out sky blue, it made for an ideal mid-summer shake in pink, sleeveless, it was an impactful shirting second skin. Other interesting developments this season included a cotton pant named the Myles with acutely kinking stitched gather at knee-level on both legs and another handsome pant, baggy in white poplin, with patch pockets. A blue tropical weight jacket named the Lenny, after Bernstein, was Alba’s interpretation of a bohemian creative’s ideal piece of workwear. Collarless shirts in ripstop linen and button-up short-sleeves in terry were further finely effective coups de théâtre. Alba is a self-deprecating yet dangerous designer: Try just one carefully chosen piece and that’s it, you’re spoiled for good because nobody else quite compares. The museum in Prague where this portrait is held describes the ring on her first finger as the ring given to her at her wedding. It’s not comfortable. Maybe a lot of girls think that a see-through blouse can attract the attention of boys or they think that it will make her look much smarter. Meghan has no dress sense: no knowledge of fabrics, fit, styles that flatter, proper tailoring, Her father raised her in L.A. Enough said. Her idea of dressing for an event is “dress up” like a little girl dressing up as a princess. Shiny! Tight! Celebrity “fashion” not elegant, just flashy.

/end ID]

[i-write-and-therefore-i-am]

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Three)

Wazzup? I have been hit with the inspiration bug and I felt drawn to work on this story while I have all this fun isolation time. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this before but I have this story all mapped out, so don’t be afraid of it being abandoned. I’m gonna finish this baby if it’s the last thing I do! As always, I’m self-conscious of this chapter, especially with characterization but please do let me know how you feel about it! I had fun writing it, and I hope you have fun reading it! (Forgive any mistakes you see, I am only babey).

Previous-Next-First

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human

Summary: More barging in, some tenderness, some threatening. All in a day’s work.

Warnings: This got SIGNIFICANTLY longer than other parts, so forgive me. There’s more cursing, but I think I’m just gonna have to resign myself to the fact that this is who I am now.

Word Count: 2,889

Men are stupid. It is a lesson that every person that considered themselves attracted to men learns at some point in their life, and it was a lesson that you had apparently forgotten. You had let yourself get pulled in by the promise of exquisite, centuries-old books and now you were paying for it.

You had assumed post-breakup position: laying across your sofa in your old, but still very fluffy pyjamas, a carton of ice cream on your lap with the sound of crap telly playing in the background. You weren’t even paying attention to what was happening on screen, but you knew that the alternative was to sit in silence until it was time for work, and you didn’t know how much of that you could take.

You couldn’t understand what exactly your problem was. Aziraphale hadn’t really done anything wrong, had he? He had been the perfect gentleman from the moment you had met him and yet something in you felt…betrayed. The thought of how angry Aziraphale had gotten, the crashing sound that had come from his sitting room window, the memory of the rage in his eyes frightened you. This man who had lovingly repaired priceless works of literature, who had patiently sat and enthusiastically listened to you rant about all the things that had happened to you over the course of the day, who had somehow remembered every single one of your favourite dishes and had cooked them all himself just because he had wanted to had transformed in front of your eyes. He’d become something terrible and dangerous, and that was your problem. The switch had been too much for you, and your fear had turned into hurt.

It was ridiculous, really. You knew that it was, but that didn’t stop you from avoiding the familiar little bookshop from then on. Partly out of residual confusion and dismay at what had happened, but mostly out of an overwhelming sense shame at how poorly you had dealt with the situation. You’d run away sobbing as though Aziraphale had hit you, when all he had done was defend you fiercely to someone who seemed to be an important figure in his life. No, you wouldn’t be stepping foot near the shop anytime soon if you had anything to do about it.

Unfortunately for you, you had a great less “anything” to do with it than you thought you had.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been another long day. You enjoyed your new promotion and you were eternally grateful that you had gotten it in the first place, but it came with a truckload of new responsibilities that left you singularly exhausted on the bus ride home that evening. In your efforts to avoid Aziraphale at all costs, you had recently taken to riding the bus again, much to your wallet’s chagrin. Again, the foolishness of your actions was not lost on you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to grow up.

The bus came to a stop and you followed the stream of tourists out onto the pavement. You felt almost like you were in a daze, mechanically turning and walking towards your apartment. Your eyes seemed to see through everything, out of focus and not really paying attention to what was going on around you. Distantly, you noticed that the air had begun to smell faintly of vanilla, like the nearby bakery was baking a wedding cake. In your tired state, you had forgotten that that particular bakery would have been closed long before you had even stepped foot on the bus earlier. Your neighbourhood was not a particularly dangerous one, but it was never smart for a young person to be out so close to dark without being at least somewhat aware of their surroundings. Though you couldn’t have known this, every potential mugger, or killer, or other type of criminal suddenly remembered something urgent that needed tending to on the other side of the city. Speeding motorists found their gas petals to be a tad bit wonky, keeping their vehicles moving along at well under the speed limits. Streetlamps that had long been neglected by the council clicked on, lighting your way home. Just for shits and giggles, for no reason at all (except for one very good reason that you were not at all privy to and were unlikely to be in your lifetime), you lifted your head and turned to look across the street.

Your heart skipped a beat. It was him! It had to be. He was standing in the middle of a group of people, none of them particularly interesting in anyway, so his shockingly white curls and light brown coat stood out like a sore thumb. Your heart beat wildly in your chest. It had been so long since you had seen the man, and the ache you felt as you tried to get a better view of him was almost too much to bear. Unbidden, your arm began to raise itself and his name flew to the tip of your tongue, but before you knew it, he was gone.

You thought about the incident all the way to your building and up the stairs to your flat. You had half a mind to call Aziraphale and demand to know why he was hanging about on Dean Street not ten minutes ago, and where the hell had he gone between the two seconds it had taken you to decide to call out to him and the moment you’d realised he was no longer there. You decided, thankfully, that you probably weren’t going to come at it from the right angle, especially not over the phone, and that you’d be better off continuing as you were. You put your keys and purse down and hung up your coat, thinking about dinner but unable to keep the memory of Aziraphale’s kind smile out of your mind.

You cooked yourself some pasta, not in the mood for a proper meal. You loved cooking, you really did, but it didn’t seem to have the same… ‘umph!’ to it that it had before this whole fiasco with Aziraphale. You had turned on the television so that you could have a bit of background noise while you worked and let yourself focus on the familiar rituals of boiling and straining and stirring. Before long, you had a plate of your favourite pasta along side a glass (a rather full one, mind you,) of your favourite wine. All was well.

Your serenity was interrupted by loud pounding at your door, as if someone were trying to knock the whole bloody thing down. You jumped, nearly spilling your wine all over your face, but you saved yourself at the last minute. Furiously (gingerly) putting the glass down on your kitchen table, you stood up from your chair, intending on giving whoever was on the other side of that door a piece of your mind. Apparently, you weren’t moving quite fast enough for them, because they knocked again, and you swore you could hear the hinges give a little and the force they were being put under. You stomped over to the door, unlocked it, wrenched it open to find—

“What the fuck?” It was Aziraphale’s angry friend. He stood right outside your door, smirking at you like the little shit he probably was. Your brain paused, hit rewind, and started again. You remembered the incident in Aziraphale’s living room and you tensed, preparing yourself for a deluge of indeterminate nonsense about you being mortal? And that somehow being a problem? He was just as unnerving as he had been when you had first seen him, still swaying, still upending the Universe. The real question of the hour was—

“How do you know where I live?!” You screeched, attempting to shut the door in his face, only to be met with his arm. He smirked and advanced on you, forcing you to walk backwards into your own flat. You looked around desperately and saw a hardcover textbook that you had been using to refresh some technique for work. You grabbed it and pointed it towards him, trying to look threatening. The man reached his hand out and you backed away.

“Don’t! Don’t come any closer!” Crowley stopped moving forward, but he didn’t look the least bothered by your performance. He chuckled, leaning against the door frame.

“Well I was going to introduce myself, but it seems you remember me. Let’s put a name to the face, shall we? My name is Crowley and I understand that I may be…how do you say, fit a f? I am sorry, love but you aren’t quite my type.” He finished by making a show of looking you up and down, which only fuelled your annoyance.

“Answer my question! How do you know where I live? Why are you even here?!”

“I’m afraid that was two questions, which one—”

“ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTIONS!” You demanded. Crowley frowned behind his pitch-black sunglasses (which he wore inside, hours after the sun had set) and seemed to grow more serious.

“I—that’s not how I was supposed to start this. Force of habit, you know, it gets the best of us all.” You didn’t respond, waiting for this strange man who had barged into your life on two separate occasions and had brought you nothing but irritation to explain himself.

“See it’s…I…you are—” He stopped, annoyed with the difficulty he was having. You were annoyed that he was still in your flat. “Aziraphale isn’t well.”

Your heart stopped. What? How could that be? You had just seen him! What was wrong? Was he dying? What if—

“He misses you, love. He won’t admit it but he does. He feels awful about what happened and that you were scared or whatever and ran away and he’s been wanting to call you for weeks but he’s too scared to. He’s not himself, Y/N.” This was not what you were expecting to hear. Aziraphale missed you? He’d been thinking about you? You basked in this knowledge for a couple of seconds before your mind stuck on something.

“How do you know my name?” There hadn’t been time for introductions when he had interrupted you and Aziraphale, and you definitely hadn’t said it since he’d interrupted you now.

“Angel talks about you all the time. It’d be grand not to know your name but noooo. Everything is always “Y/N that” and “Y/N this”. “Isn’t Y/N perfect Crowley?”” He’d pitched his voice higher to indicate he was mocking Aziraphale, but you had barely noticed. This was getting to be a bit too much for you to handle. Did Aziraphale…could he actually…did he feel the same way about you that you did about him? Was it even possible? Crowley must’ve seen your confusion on you face because he softened a little.

“Look. Come back to the shop. At least just talk to him, tell him you’re not angry anymore. You’re not angry anymore, right?” He waited for you to respond. You realised that no, you weren’t angry. You missed him sorely, and if you could have him back in your life, even if everything that Crowley had told you was false, it would be more than enough to just be friends again. You shook your head. Crowley grinned at you.

“Brilliant. So, go to the shop, do whatever you two do, and I won’t have to hear about “lovely Y/N” anymore. It’s win-win-win for everyone.” He turned to leave but stopped, sighed heavily, and turned back around. “Uhm. While I’m here, uh. Aziraphale wanted me to…you know…” He cut himself off. He seemed to do that a lot for a man who had no qualms about breaking down doors and interrupting other people.

“You know how people say things that they don’t mean?” He asked, looking up at a water spot on your ceiling. You nodded. He looked down and nodded too, his lips twitching in a smile. “Good. See ya around, love!” And with that he left, the door closing behind him on his way out. You imagined that whatever had just happened was as close to an apology as you were going to get from the strange man--if that was actually what he was trying to do.

You stood and stared at the door for a good while before dropping the book on the ground and sitting heavily onto your sofa. There was so much to think about now, and your mind was absolutely buzzing. You decided that tonight was a very good night to finish off that brand-new bottle you had just bought yesterday.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your palms were sweaty. Your knees were trembling slightly, but that wasn’t as bad as sweaty palms. He would feel your sweat and be disgusted and kick you out of his shop before any of your nasty oily sweat got on any of his precious books. Or, replied the competent part of your brain, you could wipe your hands on your jeans and open the damned door already. Your stomach twisted as you raised your hand and pushed on the handle and walked through the doorway.

You were greeted with the sweet sound of bells. The smell of old books and wax and something that Aziraphale carried around with him washed over you, relaxing your shoulders and planting a stupidly stupid smile on your face. You were totally in love with this man, but his bookshop came a close second. You wandered around at first, partly interested in the books and partly biding time until you had to deal with the Aziraphale in the room. It wasn’t difficult to lose yourself in all of the old volumes, and you were so particularly engrossed in one that you were completely oblivious to the man behind you on the stairs.

Aziraphale was beside himself. He had been up in his apartment brewing some tea when the sound of the front door drew him out to the shop. He’d come down the stairs, expecting to find some customer that he would have to fight tooth and nail to keep from buying one of his books but instead he’d found you. After the way you had left, in tears and clearly terrified, he had not dared to hope that he’d see you again. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He couldn’t help himself from watching over you as you walked home, performing the self-same miracle that had kept you safe last night (however, he was  not responsible for you looking up at him, that was something else entirely and it had spooked him something fierce). That was all he had allowed himself to do, baring himself from calling you or visiting you, thinking that if you were so frightened of him, you would not appreciate him initiating contact before you were ready.

He ached for you. He thought of you every day; of your smile, your eyes, your intelligence, your passion for his books and your genuine desire to understand him. Over the time you were apart, he’d come to realise how much he cared for you and how much it hurt to not have you in his life. He watched, unwilling to break your concentration as you ran your fingers reverently along the books, mouthing their titles silently. You were beautiful, even with your hair in the messy bun you preferred on days you didn’t have to dress up for work, in ripped jeans and an old sweater. He couldn’t just stare at you all day, so he forced himself to break his trance and clear his throat.

Predictably, you jumped, hitting your hand on the thick wood of the bookcase. You cursed loudly, bringing your hurting hand to your chest. Panicked, Aziraphale rushed down the stairs and to your side, already reaching for your hand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my dear, please forgive me! I didn’t mean to startle you, I just…Oh I feel awful!” You let him take your hand in both of his, everything you had meant to say before stepping into the shop floating away as you watched Aziraphale fuss over your hand. You smiled softly at him.

“It’s okay, Azi.” His head shot up and he stared, wide eyed in wonder. You had been the only person to call him that, and he admittedly missed the sound of it while you weren’t with him. You covered his hands with your other one, squeezing gently. “It’s okay.”

He could scarcely think. Or breathe, or do anything but blink at you like the besotted fool he was. You were here, in front of him, touching him, speaking to him, looking at him like that, like perhaps you had missed him just as much as he had missed you. Out of instinct, out of an urge that had plagued him these long months that he had known you, he slowly lifted your bruising hand up to his lips, giving you plenty of time to pull away, to leave him and never set eyes on him again. When you did none of those things, he pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to your knuckles, and then another on the angry red spot that had hit the case. Your breath shuddered in your chest, and you could do nothing but stand there.

Conversations would be had, nothing to personal, nothing close to admitting whatever it was between you, but you didn’t need that. There was an understanding that life without the other person was not worth the trouble. All was truly well.

Tag List:

@chelsdub​, @a-hoe-for-vanya​, @lordbeezyprinceofhell​, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen​, @beetlebway​, @dreamerkim​, @petalduck​

(Let me know if you want to be added. If you’ve asked before and you aren’t tagged, it means tumblr didn’t let me tag you for whatever reason, so ask me again! If you don’t want to be tagged anymore, also let me know!)

[lygerastia]

not (yet) meant to be (Garou)

Summary: Garou, the self-proclaimed 'Monster', is undoubtedly attracted to you. He doesn't know why, but he is. Is that a good or a bad thing, though?

Warnings: fluff, angst. 

Chapters: 2 [completed] 

Words: 3,597

READ THE FULL STORY ON AO3.

**

Strange. He always finds his way to you, no matter where he was or what he was doing.

Garou would roam around, hunting for his targets, creeping around and having his fights; but then he'd come across something that reminded him of you. A flower, an abandoned stray cat: he'd see a smile on another person's face and he'd compare it with yours. It was superior in every way, so he'd only get mad. And, involuntarily, he'd think about you and if he'd get lucky enough to stumble upon you while he was walking. Garou wants that, deep in his rotten soul. Only his thirst for a good battle would divert his thoughts from you for a few seconds. But then he'd come back to zero. And he'd purposely go back on your traces, in case he'd meet you. His path undeniably crossed yours, despite having a greater goal that needed to be achieved. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Even if he didn’t have the time to waste in your presence, he still found himself searching for your warmth, to see those beautiful eyes of yours and to listen to your mundane everyday stories. It was his time of peace, when he could rest his bruised up body in the company of someone delightfully pleasant. Your words made him feel ordinary, despite him being…

The wanted and dangerous Hero Hunter.

A monster, as he personally thinks of himself. And he was a monster, that was true, not accepted by most. But if he wanted to achieve his holy purpose, to be a true hero, he had to go on the path he had created for himself. And you, the surprise element, accepted him for what he was. You did not fear him—and he wasn’t about to hurt you on purpose, just because he could simply overpower you if he wanted. You weren’t his target, you were not the heroes he was constantly seeking out. Just an ordinary civilian you were that has been brave enough to be there when everything went sour, during the Monster Association’s attack. Helping those in need and definitely putting yourself in danger by acting reckless. You running around the ruins of the city, attempting to calm down the hurt and other civilians, attracted the attention of a certain hunter.

And when you found yourself surrounded by enemies, he couldn’t help but jump in and save you, despite having taken a beating earlier.

“I owe you my life…” you whispered to him, dizzy from all the effort, but still with a burning fire in your eyes. “Don’t hesitate to come to me when you need it.

Hero Hunter.”

He heeded your call. Caught your scent afterwards and found himself drawn towards you. The first time he appeared, in the night, took you by surprise. But you smiled nonetheless. ‘I think you need some aid,’ you said after seeing him so beaten up, despite having a body that could probably take a huge fight. He quietly complied, a bit wary of your intentions. He knew he was stepping on rather forbidden territory and that he shouldn't be here, but curiosity and a desire to feel affection brought him towards you. He was on his toes around you because…He actually felt weird. It was something unusual that was happening inside of him—you were stirring his emotions by being so simple.

Your touch was gentle as a breeze, carefully perusing his wounds as to not hurt him more than he already was. He couldn’t tell you that it did not hurt—he liked the kindness. Your natural scent lulled him into serenity, your words calmed him down, making him forget what he was and what was going on outside. More times than not did you warn him to stop fighting, admitting that it was paining you to see him hurt. He only smirked, laughing at your genuine feelings; he was afraid of getting closer to you, frightened that you might reach his heart and make him change his mind. Garou wasn’t as invincible as he might believe—he found that out when he realized that you were his weakness.

Because no matter how hard he tried to stay away, how often he sought out fights with heroes just so his mind would stray from your person dutifully waiting for him to come; he still thought of you. Of your warm sunshine-like smile that made him feel odd inside or of the sound of your laugh—he didn’t want to believe that this was something stupid like 'love'. He didn’t think it was that, something so vague that he couldn’t understand and never felt it in his life. He was simply treated as a human being and his dreams weren’t laughed at. Someone cared about his well-being, after so long of being a solitary wolf. It was unusual. It was weird. You were weird for accepting him so easily.

Garou was still dangerous. And yet, you…you…

“And then, he tripped and spilled all the coffee on—“ you stopped talking, attracted by Garou’s intense gaze focusing on your face. No, actually, he wasn’t focused. He just stared at your face with a serious and contemplative gaze. “Garou?” you ask, tentatively running your fingers between his spiky strands of hair.

It took a lot of time for your relationship to reach this stage, the moment he let his guard down around you and let you intimately touch him, besides you tending to his wounds. Standing with his head on your lap, he listened to you, usually acting uninterested and pretending to sleep. You took the time to examine his handsome face—a favorite past-time of yours. But today, Garou seemed tense; not even your fingers could relax him. His senses were sharp and his heart was running on adrenaline—he simply felt restless. Cause he noticed the changes and it bothered him. You were too much of a distraction and..

He knew he had to give you up, eventually. He indulged in this for far too long. He grew comfortable. Made some mistakes and probably attracted some unwanted attention towards you. You were watched. He'd seen, whenever he decided to come shopping with you, which was already rare and attracted all sort of unwanted attention. Soon, the heroes will all figure it out and hunt you down.

He couldn’t afford to lose you, even if he has to lose all this peaceful realm he has created together with you.

“Ga—“

“It’s nothing…” he says rather harshly. But you’re used to his mood swings—he could be hot and cold. One moment he’s joking and acting flirtatious, teasing you more than not; and the other side of the coin, when he’s serious and contemplative, melancholic. Whatever was on his mind, you had no idea—you never asked him. Respected his privacy, even if you wanted to know everything that was bothering him. The Hero Hunter grew on you, despite knowing the dangers of having him around. You couldn't help yourself--he was like a stray puppy looking for something. Kicked and hurt, but only wanting affection.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you laugh and before he could retort, you continue “But it’s your business.”

He has no words of comfort for you, nothing that he could say that could ease your worries. He was going to leave you—that was the reality of the situation. So, instead of using words that he was not good with asides from taunting the enemy, he grabs your hands. Those soft hands that tended to him so many times before and he memorized their pattern, their texture. He loved theses hands and he wouldn’t want to lose that touch. That warmth. But he has to. For both of you. This relationship has been doomed from the start; there’s no use in getting more attached. You both know it. Dangerous feelings lingered between the two of you and getting attached…

Meant trouble.

“Garou…?” your voice is but a questioning whisper, as if you sensed his internal battle. It twisted his heart, but tamed these emotions. Killed them. He was ready for this step. Ignored seeing the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Shut down the hurt tone of your voice. “Don’t—“

“Thank you for everything, [name]…” Softly and awkwardly, not used to affection in general, he presses a chaste kiss on the back of your hand, lips lingering there more than they should’ve. It feels awkward, but he has no choice. He has decided to do this because he wanted to. He wanted to repay you for all the gentle times; but he had no idea how. You've done so much and yet he was unable to do anything back for you. Only to break your heart and leave you.

You sniff, understanding that this was the end. “Ok. But please…” a sigh. “…stay for the night.”

The white haired hunter, the dangerous monster he wants to appear to the world, simply closes his eyes and hums in agreement. Lazily, you resume caressing his hair, heartbroken. But you don’t cry; you keep on smiling, ignoring your own tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Time seemed to stop—but you were both painfully aware of your intertwined fingers, holding onto that hope that maybe…

Maybe someday…

“What were you saying about your uh…” he makes a face, recalling what you were talking about before. “…colleague?”

“Yeah…” you take your usual voice, pushing away the pain. “And he spilled the coffee all over…”

For just one more night, he could revel in these odd feelings. And then…

He’d become the hero you actually needed.

–

[masterlist]

[sunlitroom]

Hi! For the ship chart - Gobblepot, Wayleska, BatCat, Nygmakins

Thanks for asking, anon :)

Well, I like all of these :D  But to elaborate.  And by elaborate, I mean - write a massive essay, because I’ve been in lockdown for over a month now.

Gobblepot - The best OTP of all OTPs

I’ve written a ton of meta (how unfashionable of me) and had conversations with very clever people about Gotham’s writing.  It has its flaws - as does everything - but when it does things well, it does them well.  Jim and Oswald are paralleled from beginning to end.  Even when they’re not technically sharing a story - it’s made clear that these people are connected.  Prisoners offered a good example of that, which I recapped here

Jim and Oswald’s connection is made clear right at the beginning - we start off with their story.  Jim’s freshly arrived in town, full of big ideas and hopes.  He has a shiny new job and a beautiful fiance.   Oswald doesn’t seem to have the same external trappings of growth and success - but he’s planted several seeds in the hope they’ll come to fruition later.

It’s interesting to see how reckless and brazen they both are in season one, too.  They both stare down the barrel of a gun at points, and practically swagger up to certain people and dare them to kill them.  They both retain their impulse to thumb their noses at authority, and do downright dangerous things - but they become increasingly less blithe about it over the seasons as their respective trauma accumulates.  There’s a joy in it at the outset, more of a desperate grimness as we go on.

We also get to see their vulnerabilities.  There’s little hints early on that there’s more underneath.  Jim might look like the invulnerable golden boy but - to quote a line from Silence of the Lambs - his face is all scars, if you know how to look.  Look at his immediate bond with the bereaved Bruce, because Jim saw his father die at the same age.  Look at Jim’s reaction when Loeb comments about not following in his father’s footsteps.  Look how quickly his relationship with Barbara falls apart - in fact, just look at it in the first place.  

Oswald’s vulnerabilites are more and less obvious.  He’s the Other to Jim’s all-American hero.  He’s flung about all over the place in season one - tiny-looking in comparison to the likes of Falcone and Maroni.  He’s left with a permanent limp after Fish’s beating.  Less obviously, we see that he’s strongly motivated by his need to make his mother happy, and that the notion of causing her shame hurts him to the point of tears.

All that kind of stuff, all the careful details, built slowly, really make it for me.  They’re built on later - in many ways they’re very different, but in others, very similar.

This difference/similarity plays out in their encounters, too.  They’re oddly fascinated by each other.  Oswald’s attraction is made very apparent from the outset .  Yes - Jim might be another piece on the chessboard (albeit one he won’t sacrifice) - but he blushes and stares and lights up when Jim appears.  Even later, when all the hurts and wrongs between them have mounted up, he still can’t quite resist gazing.

Jim’s a combination of uneasy but fascinated in Oswald’s company.   The early scene in the alley pinpoints it so well - the moment right after this one:

Oswald - who is adept at reading people (in season one, anyway) grins - because Jim is rapt.  He has his whole attention.  To steal a line from Hannibal this time. he watched the red sparks pinwheel deep in his eyes and felt the excitement of a child approaching a distant fair.  Although, in this case - it’s all more illicit and scary.  Jim knows he shouldn’t go to this fair, and this fair is a dangerous place.

And that odd fascination never really goes away.  Even at points when Jim is angered or revolted by Oswald’s actions - he’s never repulsed.  He’s more likely to shake him than turn his back on him.

This dynamic might morph a bit, depending on circumstance - but Jim always stands too close, stares too long, likes to tease, and is quick to head in Oswald’s direction when the chips are down.

A last point. Something else I enjoy is that they know the best and worst of each other, and seem to have an endless capacity for forgiveness.

Wayleska - sort of an OTP?  I do find it a heartbreaker of a ship.  

Pre-gas Jeremiah is so instantly smitten with Bruce.  That first interaction and he’s completely gone.  I’m posting the gifs again because they’re glorious.  I know they’re all different sizes, but meh.  

What makes it all so painful is that you can see - post-gas - this is still there.  He’s still head-over-heels, and there’s slivers of awareness there.  But the gas has twisted everything, and you can see part of him is mortified and pained at how this is all playing out.

Especially here, in these next gifs.  Even the big showy gesture is laced with pain, and afterwards just seals it

Given his secretive and hidden-away past, you could probably hazard a guess that this is the first time Jeremiah has been in love.  On top of that, he seems reserved and restrained by nature.  And here he is - being forced to reveal his feelings like this.  

On saying all that, I loved what I saw in show - but maybe prefer it as a pairing in fics.  Bruce - for me, anyway - doesn’t seem mature enough to deal with the intensity of Jeremiah’s feeling - pre and post-gas.  Maybe when he’s a little older, it’s something he could at least take in and process, but it seems a little one-sided in show just because Bruce doesn’t really seem to recognise what’s happening, let alone parry it.  

The only point where you could argue that he was aware, and that there’s feelings there, I think, is the fact that he’s so angry at Jeremiah.  With Jerome, Bruce almost felt responsible for his actions, and does what he can to mitigate them.  But with Jeremiah, Bruce refuses to even tell him that they have a connection in order to save people’s lives.  His anger and obstinacy feels more visceral and - if I prod it - looks like hurt and betrayal.  Bruce saw Jeremiah, at least, as a friend.  His reaction to the loss of that seems a bit disproportionate - so maybe there are nascent feelings there?

But generally. yes, better in fic where the writer can take more license and time with Bruce.

BatCat - It’s not an OTP - but it’s sweet and I like it?  I’m not so mad keen about how forgetful Alfred and Bruce can sometimes be of Selina in earlier seasons, and sometime tone-deaf at points later - but yes, it’s nice.

Nygmakins - I like this.  It’s maybe not an OTP - but I ship it.  The foundations aren’t quite as extensive as with Gobblepot - but they’re there.  They’re both seemingly sweet-natured, sciencey and fascinated with the darker side of life.  Very early on, we know they have interactions that we don’t see.  Lee apparently allows Ed to use the lab and exam room when he wants, and he dreamily remarks that she smells nice.

Later, we see more similarity as their duality becomes more apparent, and their shared taste for violence, darkness and power.  Lee enjoys the applause of the crowds in the Narrows just as much as Ed enjoys the audience adulation for his ‘gameshow’.  Lee’s revenge on Sofia is as protracted and merciless as Ed’s on Oswald.  

Last up - they both have a desire to be entirely seen, which is something they seem to find in each other.

Thanks for the ask, anon.  I fire the same pairings back at you, if you feel like answering :)

[adonis-koo]

Three’s a crowd

| 3 |

Plot: (CEO AU) When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was suppose to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation...

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader/Jimin, Hoseok/Reader, Taehyung/Reader,

Genre: Smut, angst, drama, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 5k

Previous | Next

Tags: daddy kink, vaginal fingering, slight praise kink, degradation, nipple play, orgasm denial, edging, semi public sex, dirty talk, finger fucking,

Warning ⚠️ This fic touches on drug use, alcoholism and abuse. Please read with caution if any of these things are triggers for you 🖤

Sitting out on a balcony terrace was on god never a way you thought you’d open your morning. But here you were, gazing out over the busy city with a glass of water in hand as you mused. Most likely you’d be headed from the psych ward to the bakery by now. Probably stopping by the ragged gas station to get breakfast on your way before opening up shop. You’d most likely be in the back with Taehyung prepping Monday’s batch of bread while joking about the night before as well.

“Y/n? Are you even listening to me?”

You finally turned your gaze back to Jimin who sat across from you, lips in a large pout as he collapsed back in his plush seat huffing, “It really doesn’t take a lot to distract you, does it?”

Closing your eyes you exhaled sharply out your nose as you replied, “Sorry rich boy- shocking as it may be- not everyone lives like this on a daily,” licking your lips as you rested your hand against your chin, “Furthermore, can you blame me? I mean I get it, my dress choices weren’t the greatest but you didn’t have to go as far as calling them atrocious.”

Jimin’s lips curled into a coy grin as he straightened his back, perhaps knowing you were right, but if there was one thing you had taken note of, it was his darker disposition. He was innocent on the outside, but you had ever so often got the impression he was much more cold hearted then he appeared, “But it was.”

He shrugged easily, obviously not sorry about his words. Just proving what you were suspecting about it. It hadn’t particularly bothered you regardless. He was born into wealth and knew no different, so naturally- your entire wardrobe probably made him cringe. Rolling your eyes heavily you slumped back into your chair, not caring for his snobbish remarks, whether he was born into wealth or not it never killed anyone to have a little bit of humility, “Okay Mr Vogue, where are we going?”

This made him smile, relaxing his shoulders you hadn’t even realized were tense before as he replied, “There’s plenty of boutiques on the 42nd floor, we’ll go there first before exploring our options outside the hotel.”

You nodded, saying no more on the subject as you resumed eating breakfast. Turning your head to look back out over the city, as nice as this was, you didn’t expect to miss your friends so much. What was the point in so much luxury if you didn’t have anyone to enjoy it with? Briefly you glanced back at Jimin, he was on his phone again. Gaze focused and almost deadly, nothing like the aura he portrayed around you and your mother.

While you felt this way you had the distinct feeling Jimin wouldn’t necessarily agree. He bit his plump lip as he dragged a hand through his shiny, soft black hair. There was no doubt about it that he was definitely attractive. Having browsed your phone earlier that day you found out he even made it on the top ten list of most successful millionaires under 25. 

Granted the article was geared towards the sexual appeal for young women to fantasize about. Not necessarily up your alley, although...Jeon Jungkook took the number one spot at only 23 with an income of over 20 billion a year....and you walked in on him getting dressed this morning. Closing your eyes briefly, you felt your face getting red again. Why was it always you? 

Remembering the intense gaze he sent your way before the door shut was enough to make you weak in the knees. Without even realizing it you unconsciously squeezed your thighs together. Were all rich guys like this? You weren’t sure you wanted to be associated with this scene if they were. For your own sake but more importantly the sake of your body. 

Which was currently burning up and ready to take a cold shower. Breakfast continued silently as your parents had took off once more. Apparently Seung had business to attend and asked your mother to accompany him so she could start getting acquainted with his business partners. Your mother, seemed to be enjoying herself thoroughly and you supposed that was all that mattered in the end.

Sitting on the black velvet octagon cut stool you watched Jimin pluck through racks as an employee swiftly lifted them from the rack on command. The selection was wide and vast and while you wanted to explore you were almost glad Jimin seemed to want to take over. Folding your hands you were unsure of where to look. The entire store screamed expensive and you were worried if you accidentally broke anything it’d cost you your retirement fund- not that you had one but still.

Finally Jimin turned around nodding you over to the employee, who past his fake smile seemed almost sneering at you as he lead you towards the back. The employee stopped at the entryway on the right signaling you to go in, following you inside briefly to hang the dresses up on a rack before exiting. The entire room was walk in. A white cubed chair in the corner while three full length mirrors stood at the front of the room. Pulling the thick curtains back to conceal the entrance you pressed your lips together before trying the first one on.

It was a deep blue color and had mountains of tulle that you were buried in instantly, not particularly caring for the halter neck that just about choked you as well. Jimin didn’t care for it either sending you back right away. You honestly weren’t sure how you felt about modeling for him. But then again if he was footing the bill you didn’t have that much dignity to say no.

You were use to being on your feet the majority of the day so changing in and out of dresses was easy. The difficult part was finding something Jimin liked. You found out quickly he was picky and even the slightest of things he didn’t like were a deal breaker. Even you weren’t that harsh on the gowns. Some weren’t your taste but regardless they were all gorgeous. The one you were currently wearing you’d admit you were particularly fond of. 

The tulle skirt flowed a bit wider then an a-line but nothing you were drowning or tripping in. It was off the shoulders with tulle sleeves fitted to your elbows, petals decorated the sweetheart neckline, enough to make you look fashionable but not gawdy. The deep wine red color was mature but still sensual enough that you could get away with it without looking dated.

Taking one step caused you to pause, taking note in your leg that briefly flashed, a long slit running up the right front of the gown you hadn’t noticed before. A bit oddly placed but you rather liked the touch. Opening the curtains again you almost slammed into a figure that had come out of their own room at the same time.

Jumping back you almost fell had a pair of hands not caught you, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You felt like a deer in the headlights as you looked up to see the one person who had been haunting your memory all morning. Thankfully clothed this time Jungkook gave you a once over, though he appeared more inspecting to see if you were okay before asking for verbal confirmation, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” You fumbled out, your face undoubtedly as red as the gown you wore, “It’s the dress you should probably be checking on.” If you could’ve cringed any harder at your words you would’ve as soon as they left your mouth. Awkwardly looking away from him as you finally forced your lips closed, closing your eyes as you wished nothing more then to embrace the icy void of death.

Very well aware of his large hands that held your waist tighter then necessary, in fact, him holding you wasn’t necessary at all. He licked his lips as he curved an eyebrow, smirking at your fumbling words as his voice lowered, “It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind you taking it off if its damaged.”

As if your face wasn’t hot enough, you squirmed in his arms making him chuckle as he glanced down at you, “Sorry, you’re just so easy to tease, I have a hard time controlling myself.” He didn’t look very sorry though as he finally, though almost reluctantly let go of you, taking a step back as he tossed a wink your way. Striding back out the hallway as you looked away huffing. Following in his path as you found Jimin looking down at his phone with that same icy stare again. Jungkook was talking to what appeared to be a seamstress who was taking measurements, “I want it right above my wrists remember.”

“Shut up you brat, I’m well aware of where you want it cut.” Your eyes widened at the seamstress’s snippy words as she huffed, wrapping the measuring tape around his upper arm before taking another note. They must’ve been close for her to talk to him so informally.

You turned back to Jimin clearing your throat as you raised an eyebrow expectantly. He looked up, his icy look melting as he put back on a charismatic look, wiggling his finger to signal you to turn. Doing so he finally gave a hum, “Too bland. Is there any black ones in the collection I picked out?”

Frowning you looked down at the gown, too bland? You supposed he had a point but you really didn’t want to look like a disco ball decked in gems either honestly, trying to hold in a sigh you nodded before replying, “Mhm, ill go try another if you want.”

Jimin nodded, standing up as he glanced towards the door, “Go ahead, I’ll be back in ten minutes I have to go take care of something.”

You crossed your arms not looking very impressed but you finally sighed waving him off as you turned around, “You sure do know how to steal a girls heart Jimin.”

He gave a smirk before turning his back to you, quickly exiting the door. Sighing your shoulders dropped as you glanced towards the large mirror wall, fidgeting with your fingers as you took one glance at the dress, it was a pity he didn’t like it.

“Don’t listen to him. Jimin’s taste in wardrobe is too saucy for most parties he attends.” You whipped around to see Jungkook still standing there, the seamstress measuring his neck now as he continued, “In regards to the eye candy he dresses up atleast.”

You shrugged, looking back towards the mirror, examining the dress once more as you replied, “I wouldn’t say I’m surprised but he’s paying so I’m gonna do what he wants.”

Jungkook only pressed his lips together saying no more as the seamstress suddenly flicked his head, scolding him quietly as he rubbed the spot, looking thoroughly annoyed, “Don’t you have other people to measure Irene?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she waved him off. Letting him go back down the hallway as she shook her head, “Whatever he says, ignore him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Confused by the seamstresses words you tilted your head. Watching her walk back into the employees room before looking back at the mirror. Taking one last look before trailing to the hallway again. Taking a step into your fitting room as you sighed. Suddenly jumping back at the figure who sat in the plush chair, looking up from his phone casually Jungkook grinned mischievously at your gasp, “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to help.”

“Help!?” You almost yelped out, taking a step back, ready to bolt if necessary, was it their wealth that made them so bold? Or was Jeon Jungkook just really that ballsy of a guy? “Sitting in my dressing room isn’t helping.”

Jungkook laughed, letting his legs which were already spread apart relax further, making you turn around as you put a hand on your forehead, “I already picked a few out of the selection for you to try on if you don’t know where to start,” Jungkook called out, his voice still amused, “Not very fond of Jimin’s taste, especially knowing they don’t fit your style but I think you could pull off the few I chose.”

Closing your eyes you almost whined out, “You want me to try on dresses with you in here?” 

“Mhm...” Jungkook relied, his voice almost playful as he continued, “You said didn’t care sense Jimin was the one paying. What about me though? What if I paid?”

He had a point, but was your dignity that low? You supposed, at this point in your life. It might as well been. Sighing you let you shoulders sag. Red faced you turned back towards the mirror as you unzipped the back letting the dress fall to the floor. 

Catching Jungkook’s eyes in the mirror, he had a hand resting on his chin, clearly enjoying the show. You had half expected him to remark about your body but none came, simply staying quiet as he observed. Maybe knowing it would send you into orbit if he did. Hanging the dress back up you plucked the next one off the hanger. Stepping into it as you pulled the material up and zipped in. It was flowy like the last one, the white brightened your skin and the tulle long sleeves cling to your wrists. It was long but sat more like a sheathe and the neckline plunged slightly.

Turning back to face Jungkook you raised you eyebrows though unable to look him in the eye, “Nice but needs color,” he stood up, making you shrink back slightly as he strolled over to the rack, plucking a rose gold pink gown as he wiggled a finger. Signaling you to follow as he stood in the middle of the room. Setting the gown down on the coffee table as you stiffly stood in front of the mirror.

You jumped slightly at feeling his hand press against your back, almost painfully slow he dragged it up your back before grabbing the zipper. Pull it down before letting the material fall off, leaving you exposed again, feeling a pang between your legs at the closeness. Awkwardly you looked towards the ground unable to meet his gaze again in the mirror as you clasped your hands, covering your exposed breasts.

Jumping again at the warmth of his fingers wrapping around your waist, one slithering down to grab your arm, the other grabbed your chin, his thumb stroking at your lip as he lifted your gaze, his lips soft as they grazed against your ear, “Look at me babygirl.”

His words alone were enough to make you rub your thighs together in attempt to cause friction. There was no denying Jungkook was immensely attractive, and even with only having met him once before you wouldn’t deny your body the honor of having Jungkook fuck you, which seemed exactly his intentions. 

Holding your chin he forced you to look up at the mirror meeting his eyes through it, his thumb intently stroking at your bottom lip while staring you down with a dark hunger in his eyes, glossed with lust as he wrapped a hand around your arm tugging it away as you obediently unclasped your hands.

Finally a smirk creeped on his lips as they pressed down against your neck, “That’s a good girl.” You almost whimpered at the praise as wetness began to shamelessly form in your panties. His lips dragging down your neck as he continued to watch your reactions in the mirror. His hands finally leaving their former position before looping around your waist, slowing letting his fingers trail up your stomach and to your breasts.

Pressing your lips together as you carefully watched his hands began to massage your breasts, squeezing slow but firm before pinching at your nipples making strangled yelp escape your lips as he began to nip against your neck, “Eyes up here princess, I didn’t give you permission to watch.”

Your face was a hot red and your panties were sticking to your wet folds as you trailed back up to lock eyes with him again, feeling his fingers pinch your hardening buds again as you let out a whimper, rubbing your thighs together as he let out a chuckle against your throat, “Do you want my fingers baby? Use your words.”

He had paused making you ready to protest only to realize it was his way of asking for consent, his original purpose in your dressing room had obviously strayed off path but then again you also anticipated this happening. He was extremely attractive and you hadn’t gotten laid in several months, you knew this was a likely case when you allowed him too stay, for good reason. Despite all warning signs in the back of your mind you nodded, “P-please...daddy.”

You watched his smile fade as lust consumed his eyes again at the lewd words, letting his fingers trail back down your stomach as he found a new spot on your neck to bite. His fingers played with the band of your underwear, it was a simple white lounge pair considering you didn’t have plans of getting laid on this trip. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind in the least as he let his fingers stroke over your clothed heat, “Already wet and I’ve barely touched you.” he tsked making you squeeze your thighs again. 

Letting his fingers find their way underneath the band of your panties as he let them take a long stroke up your sticky wet core. It both made you want to close your thighs again and simultaneously open them, choosing the ladder as you let your back press against his chest. His free hand went back to massaging your breasts as his other continued to stroke your wet cunt. 

Finally letting his fingers find their way to your clit, brushing over it causing you to buck your hips slightly, “Daddy please...” You murmured closing your eyes. He pinched your nipple once more causing you to jolt, letting his other fingers brush over your clit again as he murmured, “What do you want daddy to do?”

He rested his finger back on top of your clit, watching as you quickly began to shift your hips in attempt to get yourself off, “Let me cum daddy.” Your voice becoming strained as you finally let your ass press against him. Feeling an unexpectedly large dent pressed against his pants, letting your ass drag against his length in attempt to get his fingers to hit your sweet spot as he let out a small grunt.

His hand leaving your breasts to grab your hip, “Watch it babygirl, use your words or you won’t be cumming anytime soon.” His fingers suddenly began to move again at a faster pace as he began to explore your clit, making you whimper as you squirmed against him, the stimulation making you buck your hips and breathy moans escape your lips.

“Please daddy! Please!” You quickly whimpered as you attempted to press back against him, his hand on your hip, gripping it tightly keeping you from finding his length again. It didn’t last for long though as he let his other hand find its way down your band. His right still circling your clit before finding your sweet spot.

Making you moan as he nipped your neck again, “Not too loud kitten, unless you want everyone to know who’s taking you here.” Realistically you knew he was right but any thought of that had been thrown out the window when you let him stay in your dressing room.

His left hand began to stroke your wet cunt as the right continued to work your sweet spot making you grind against what was definitely a thick, long and harden dick making a grunt of approval escape him. Finally he let a finger slowly push inside you making you bite your lower lip, attempting to buck your hips as he tsked, “Impatient brats don’t get to come, be a good girl for daddy and don’t move.”

You whined at the command but did as you were told, letting him stroke you before sinking his first finger inside you while the other began to slow his pace with your clit despite the building pressure, “Mmm princess you’re so tight, I don’t know if you’ll be able to take daddy’s cock,” Just his words made you buck your hips again, your little walls clenching around his finger in excitement at the mention of his thick, swollen cock you kept grinding against, “Babygirl don’t be a brat, I told you not to move.”

Licking your lips you finally opened your eyes as you firmly pressed back against his length, locking eyes with him in the mirror. You were a mess of red cheeks and tangled hair as you grinded his hard twitching cock with a defiant smile, “Then make me.”

His jaw clenched and his eyes glowered, suddenly picking up the pace as he began to roughly drag his fingers back and fourth against your clit, shoving a second finger inside you becoming dragging his tips into your g-spot making you suddenly whimper throwing your head back against him, “Careful what you wish for you dirty slut. You like punishment don’t you?” He growled lowly in your ear as you felt two fingers sink into you pumping sharpingly, making the pressure in your core build faster.

You rocked your hips as much as you could to keep in pace with his fingers as you whimpered, “Y-yes...” his merciless gaze didn’t falter though as he added a third finger.

Making you bite your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, feeling his long digits fill you as they pumped further into you suddenly hitting your g-spot making you sharply buck your hips again as you moaned. His fingers on your clit finding their way back to your sweet spot as they both hit harmoniously in a ruthlessly speed. Your orgasm building higher and higher as Jungkook growled with a taunt in your ear, “Cum you slut, go on.” Just his words were enough to make you push closer to the edge of your orgasm. Feeling yourself at your peak, ready to unravel as you let out a moan.

The feeling however came to a jolting stop as he pulled all of his fingers off you. Your mouth suddenly opening into shock as you beggingly looked at him in the mirror, legs trembling at being so close to your high and not achieving it. Jungkook only glanced at you through the mirror ruthlessly, “Impatient brats don’t get to cum.” he repeated his words from earlier as he suddenly resumed brushing against your clit again, using two fingers inside of you instead of three as you began to obediently buck into them again as he pumped into you. 

His fingers dragged against the sweet spot of your clit again, your walls desperately clenching around his fingers making an embarrassingly loud squelch sound and the familiar pressure build in your core again, “D-daddy please let me come, please, I’ll be a good girl.” You whimpered begging as quietly as you could. Feeling him pinch your clit between his thumb and index finger as the other began to hit your g-spot again.

You let out a string of moans feeling the rush of your orgasm so close again, you wanted it so badly. So, so badly. Just as you felt it almost come over you Jungkook stopped again, almost making you whimper out a sob in the process from being so close yet again. This time almost painful as you tried bucking against his hands, “P-please daddy.”

“Learn to behave you brat and then talk to me.” Jungkook growled as he resumed his edging, letting his fingers brush back over your sensitive clit, while letting the over quickly pump you again, the feeling building much quicker then the last time. Despite knowing the inevitable end your hips were still fixed on trying to get your orgasm off, it was almost painful at this point bringing near tears to your eyes as you whimpered, “I’ll be a good girl daddy! Please let me come please! Daddy please!”

You kept murmuring it like a mantra as you continuing bucking your hips feeling the orgasm so close, you wanted it so badly. Clenching around his fingers, one more pump, just one you could feel it. But rather then one long pump Jungkook started shorter quicker thrusts with his fingers, continually hitting your g-spot as his fingers on clit began to stroke painfully slow.

Milking every last bit of your edge before you painfully almost orgasmed. On the verge of a scream that never came due to him stopping, tears glossing your eyes as you whimpered. The feeling excruciating as you continually bucked your hips in hopes of chasing your orgasm, “Naughty girls get punished, if you don’t listen to daddy this is what happens,” Jungkook despite wanting so badly to rough fuck you against the wall stood his ground firmly, “Let me put you over my lap and then I’ll consider.” The idea made you excitedly rub your thighs, rewetting your pussy that ached dully for its orgasm.

Jungkook had begun to lead you to the chair when a sudden ring went off. Temporarily grounding you to reality as you turned your head to look at him. His phone was going off, making him sigh obviously annoyed at the interruption, “Sit, legs open and let me take this call.”

Obediently you sat down, opening your legs qas he answered the call, “What?” His voice snappy and sharp, obviously annoyed not by the interruption anymore but by whoever called, “I’m busy, get someone else to do it.”

After a moment he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing loudly, “Personal project- that I was enjoying before you interrupted,” realizing he must’ve be referring to what you were both doing, however Jungkook seemed to be able to lie through his teeth flawless about finger fucking you just twenty seconds earlier. After a moment he gritted his teeth before speaking, “Fine, when do I have to be there?”

Another second went by before he looked towards the mirror, running a hand through his messy hair as he huffed, “Yeah whatever I’ll see you soon.” He dropped the call before putting it back on the inside pocket of his jacket. Sighing as he turned back to face you. Noticing his dark demeanor had been melted away by reality as he kneeled down grabbing your chin gently, “I have to negotiate a meeting in ten minutes so I have to go.”

“You’re seriously gonna leave me like this!?” You huffed out raising your eyebrows, a pout you didn’t even realize took over your lips. It made Jungkook grin before a smirk suddenly coiled on his face, “Let me take you for dinner tonight and I’ll make up for it.”

You were tempted to say no just to see the look on his face but after his performance with only his fingers you couldn’t even imagine what the rest of him was like, shaking your head you finally cracked a breathy laugh, “If you wanted to take me on a date you could’ve just asked without going the extra mile.”

Jungkook leaned in, his hand crawling up your thigh as he stroked the inside, letting your arousal spike again as you bit your lip frustrated, “I was going too regardless, but I don’t like letting opportunities pass by, seeing that pouty preorgasm face was worth it babygirl. 8 o’clock?”

“Sure.” You closed your eyes trying not to focus on his hand that gave your thigh one last squeeze before letting go.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair one last time, poorly fixing it as he stopped by the curtain, “One last thing baby,” he curved an eyebrow turning to face you, “No touching yourself allowed until then. Don’t want another punishment do you?”

Licking your lips you crossed your legs as you rested your elbows on the arm rests, finally a wicked smirk curled onto your lips as you rose your eyebrows, “Never, I’m a good girl.”

Jungkook had to leave while attempting to wipe the grin off his face. Playing with Jimin’s toys was a dangerous game but shit, when they made a face like that Jungkook couldn’t resist.

Sighing you collapsed into the chair, you hadn’t gotten laid in several months and you still managed to not get off in front of one of the worlds most richest and attractive young men. Way to-fucking-go.

Jimin never did show back up, finding a text from a private number saying it was him, coincidentally having to attend a meeting last minute as well. Briefly you wondered if it was the same one Jungkook went too. You ended up leaving the store empty handed despite Jimin saying you could just put it on his tab if you found something you liked. After seeing the price tags you couldn’t force yourself too. You explored parts of the hotel though, there was even an arcade on the 12th floor and an indoor pool.

None in which you were equipped to go into but it was amazing regardless. Eventually you got a text on your phone from your mother asking if you’d like to attend brunch with her and Seung. Seeing as you had nothing else better to do you went ahead and agreed. You’d need to warm up to this all eventually and putting it off wouldn’t make it go any faster. Sighing you made your way to 52nd floor which apparently had an incredible balcony view. It was reserved apparently but after hearing your last name the employee immediately let you back.

“Ah Y/n I’m glad you could join us!” Seung smiled brightly as he waved you over to the empty seat, “Let me introduce you to one of my closest friends.”

You however swallowed thickly not at who he waved too but who he sat beside. Why was it always Jungkook? He sat first on his phone not looking incredibly invested in the conversation until your name came up. Head suddenly shooting up with raised eyebrows, a smirk wiggling it’s way onto his lips as his phone was suddenly put back into his jacket. This child...

Ignoring Jungkook’s suggestive stares you gave a sheepish grin as you walked over, sitting across from Jungkook who on the right of him was accompanied by an older lady. She wore a black knee length pencil skirt and a green silk button up blouse that complimented her nicely. She wore simple yet elegant golden jewelry and her thick glossy black hair was styled effortlessly. This was undoubtedly his mother.

The man on his left was older and had gray accompanying his dark raven brown hair and his facial features were strong, clearly where Jungkook inherited his stronger features, his face however was fixed in an almost permanent scowl that suited his black silk suit well. This was the person who made you the most timid, “This is Jeon Hwan, his wife Soo Yun, and their son Jungkook.”

“Oh we’re well acquainted.” You closed your eyes as your smile tightened at Jungkook’s words. Not having to see to know the smirk that accompanied his expression. Why did he have to be so obvious? Even if they didn’t know they had to be able to figure out something was up.

Coughing as you nodded attempting to do damage control as you strained a forcibly relaxed smile while quickly explaining, “Oh yes, I met Jungkook earlier when I was with Jimin.”

Seung nodded enthusiastically, clearly delighted to see you were already becoming familiar with some of the upperclass families. God if only he knew Jungkook was three fingers deep in you two hours ago. None the wiser however Seung replied happily, “That’s good to hear! I don’t expect you to become thoroughly acquainted with my way of living. But I want you to know you’re always more than welcomed Y/n.”

You could tell, unlike Jimin’s words, his father’s were much more genuine and it made you give a small warm smile as you nodded. It made you wonder though, how could Jimin seem so cold if his father was so warm? Surely being raised in wealth wasn’t the cause? Jungkook was a fairly good testimony of that. The question lingered in the back of your mind but you outwardly chose to not say anything to Seung’s words as a plate was put in front of you by a server.

You could feel your stomach growling but you paused. Noticing Jungkook’s father watching you closely, making you sink into your seat as you tensely smiled. Was he accessing? He was definitely accessing you. Jungkook appeared confused at your expression before trailing your gaze back to his father. Making him frown as his expression dropped to one you could only adequately describe as resentment.

Looking back towards you Jungkook gave for the first time, an awkward smile that you assumed must of be an attempted reassuring one. Giving an awkward one back before it quickly melted as you sunk into your seat before glancing back down at your plate. This was going to be a painfully long day. Wasn’t it?

Note: hey babes! I wanted to get this up sooner but I haven’t really been feeling it with proof reading any type of smut buuut here we are! Gonna finish up the last scene of 6 and try and get a request finished today, wish me luck!!🖤

Tag list: @sapphireprinces5 @jazzytfw @theslumberingcat (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[keichanz]

Another Day in Hell || Part 2

.....uh....i can explain.

except i really, really can’t. fuck.

note: this is not based on The Walking Dead. i haven’t seen the show, but i’m thinking about maybe starting to get a few ideas because i have no idea what the fuck i’m doing.

another note: the need for code/nicknames will be explained in the next chapter or possibly the one after.

also: part 3 of Move Your Body will be posted tomorrow.

Read on AO3.

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3

It was a struggle, but after Kagome fell asleep, Inuyasha finally managed to tear his gaze away from her after an embarrassing amount of time – long enough that had she been aware, he was fairly confident she would had called him a creeper for it – and went about tidying the space for lack of anything better to do. Well, better than standing there like an idiot for an undetermined amount of time gawking at the slumbering woman in his bed. Not only would she call him a creeper, but he’d feel like one so that was off the list of things to do, so distracting his mind with meaningless cleaning it is.

It wasn’t very large, perhaps the size of the standard studio apartment, the walls were brick, the floor was cement, and it suited Inuyasha’s needs perfectly. Sure it was chilly more often than not, it smelled funny, and sometimes he saw a rat or two, but none of that ever bothered him and besides, it was better than nothing. And he was proud of his little shelter. He’d transformed it from a wrecked and dirty building into a safe zone, using what he had at his disposal to make his life a little easier. It was only a bonus that it had working plumbing and untouched food and supplies in the back, suggesting that he had been the only one to survive long enough to venture further in and discover it all.

He had found the place a couple months ago and claimed it as his own, eliminated all the undead inside, dragging their bodies outside in front of the shop, and making a clear statement that this particular shop was off limits. It worked for the most part; occasionally he’d get the odd demon sniffing around for shelter or a curious human searching for supplies, but he always managed to chase them off or if he had to, maim or kill. Humans that had lost their sanity and regressed into nothing short of a slaughtering madman were nearly just as rampant as the undead fuckers that walked around with a hunger for human flesh and he’d eliminated his fair share of them.

Inuyasha hadn’t lied to Kagome earlier; he really hadn’t killed another human unless they tried to kill him first. He didn’t like killing needlessly, especially when there were so few demons and humans left after the world went down the shitter and became a living hell. It was a dog eat dog world – he fucking hated that analogy if he were being honest, but it was accurate – and Inuyasha did what he had to do to survive. It was never easy, it was by no means pretty, but it was necessary and he’d accepted that long ago.

Often Inuyasha wondered that if it hadn’t been for his friends, he would have gone down a very similar path as the human murderers and allow his demon blood to overwhelm him, turning him into a bloodthirsty creature with no remorse and no mercy. It was a terrifying thought so he never dwelled on it for long, merely shaking his head and offering his silent gratitude to whoever would listen.

Stooping to grab Tessaiga up off the floor and shove it back into his belt loop, Inuyasha sighed and started collecting the trash to take to the dumping site tomorrow, tossing the bloody rags, Kagome’s ruined shirt, and plastic bags he’d filled earlier in the week with miscellaneous rubbish into the bin. He’d learned the hard way that leaving bloodied clothing and rotting food outside behind the shop attracted all kinds of creatures with a keen enough nose to smell it. After dispatching a hoard of investigating deadies for the fourth time in a single week he’d decided enough was enough and started dumping his trash into a large pit about a mile’s walk away.

Pausing, Inuyasha turned to glance at his occupied bed once more and frowned. He never minded the walk, and most of the time even preferred it, but perhaps this time it would be a smart idea to use the ATV. He kept it hidden and hardly ever used it because gas was a precious commodity, but the thought of leaving Kagome alone for any stretch of time unsettled him. He didn’t like the idea of taking her with him either, especially with a useless arm, but at least if he left her here she’d be safe and he’d only be gone for a maximum of ten minutes anyway.

Kagome sighed and shifted in her sleep, a little frown puckering her brow briefly before it smoothed out and she settled down again. Realizing he was staring, Inuyasha once more tore his gaze away and decided he should go over inventory to see what he needed.

Growling at himself, he grabbed the notebook he used to keep tabs on inventory and started with his weapons stash first. Ammo was a given and he jotted that down, for his Glock and the rifle with the scope he kept on top of the bookshelf, used for long range shooting. He still had three boxes left for his Sig so he didn’t have to worry about that. He was running low on mineral oil for Tessaiga, though, so he added that.

Food wise, he was good on non-perishables, but made a note to get bags of ice, a case of water, and after a brief pause, more ramen. Medical supplies were stocked. Flicking a glance at the haphazard box of clothes, then to Kagome, he wrote down women’s clothes and other. He figured she’d tell him what she needed so he didn’t bother listing any feminine products, and he was counting on Sango or Ayame maybe having a few things they could donate. He had no idea how long she’d be staying with him or even if she would – he didn’t know her story, if she’d been separated from family or what – so for now he thought it safe to assume she’d be staying for a while, which meant eventually she’d be meeting everybody after she was healed and had regained her strength.

Inuyasha grunted and scanned his list, idly tapping the pen against the notebook. Matches, lighter fluid, gasoline, firewood, and blankets he was good on, but he marked off flashlights and batteries as a critical need. He checked how much was left of the ingredients for homemade bombs – the things were incredibly useful when going up against massive hoards of undead – and added those to the list. He’d gotten lucky yesterday and found a bag filled with toiletries and other random items that he knew the girls would appreciate so he crossed that off his list.

Looking it over one last time, Inuyasha conceded that all in all it wasn’t that bad. The items most difficult to retrieve would no doubt be the ammo and water, but Inuyasha wasn’t afraid to play dirty if he had to. It was a kill or be killed world, and he’d be damned if he was offed by one of those undead fuckers or a mere human with a possessive streak.

“Fuck my life,” Inuyasha muttered as he dropped the notepad onto the table and wandered over to the washer-turned-cooler to grab a beer.

Alcohol was also a rare commodity, but he was lucky enough to have an entire back room full of the stuff. He wasn’t a huge drinker to begin with – getting drunk during these times was dangerous and just downright foolish – but every once in a while he didn’t mind kicking back with a cold one, take a moment to breathe and thank god that he’d survived another day.

Kagome chose that moment to make another soft sound in her sleep and Inuyasha found himself once more staring at her as she grunted before abruptly rolling onto her stomach, squirming around and wrapping her good arm around the pillow then going still.

Inuyasha stared, cursed, and then abruptly gave up, stomping over to the puke-green armchair and plopping down with a heavy sigh. Stretching his legs out and getting comfortable, he uncapped his brew, knocked back a few mouthfuls, and settled back into the worn cushion as he propped his head in his hand and crossed his booted feet at the ankles.

Kagome... His eyebrows dipped into a thoughtful frown as he studied her, claws idly tapping against the chilled glass of his beer. Her face, relaxed in slumber, was directed toward him and his eyes tracked her features, to her small nose, delicate jaw, and full lips. Despite looking a right mess, her hair a tangled mop on her head, dirt smudged onto her skin along with dried blood, she still managed to look beautiful to him. She was trim, physically fit, and she’d weighed hardly anything when she’d been in his arms. He recalled the deep brown of her eyes, fathomless pools of rich chocolate that glittered with an odd mix of apprehension, confusion, and relief when she gazed at him.

Taking another swig, Inuyasha wondered what she had been through before they’d met. She’d told him about the psycho with the gun, but what about before that? Where was her family? Were they even alive? Did she have any friends? Why was she alone without any means of protecting herself? How the hell had she survived for so long?

He had so many questions and he’d wanted to bombard her with them tonight, but after seeing how exhausted she was, nearly falling asleep sitting up, he’d decided they could wait so she could get the rest she so desperately needed. He surmised she’d sleep for a good ten hours or so, and in the meantime he should probably catch some z’s himself, but with his mind a whirlwind of activity, he doubted he’d be getting any sleep tonight.

Inuyasha had no idea why he brought her back here. Well okay, that wasn’t entirely true; while his enemies and even at times his friends had called him many less than positive names, he wasn’t a heartless bastard. He hadn’t been about to leave a helpless woman alone, obviously frightened for her life, to a hoard of hungry zombies – and possibly her psycho trigger-happy friend that gave her that hole in her shoulder – when there was something he could do about it.

But still, it had been an impulse, a last second decision, and during the single hour he’d known her he’d been wondering if he was going to regret it. Aside from the obvious of whether or not he could trust her, he’d just loaded onto himself and the others another mouth to feed, a liability because he was pretty damned sure she knew jack shit about defending herself for wielding any sort of weapon.

That could change, though. He could teach her. Show her how to hold and aim a gun, how to brace herself, even teach her a few basic self-defense moves after she was back to full health. She would be a quick learner, Inuyasha surmised. Kagome had the drive to survive, a strong enough spirit to hold her own, and a fierce determination he’d caught a few glimpses of in her eyes. So he could turn that liability into an asset, train her, show her the ropes and he knew without a doubt that she would fit right in to their merry little band of misfit fighters.

And therein lay the crux of the problem because Inuyasha didn’t do that shit. He didn’t train people how to fight, how to accurately protect themselves, how to hold a goddamn gun or block an attack. He may own a goddamn dojo dedicated to teaching martial arts, but that didn’t mean he taught any of the students enrolled.

He knew what the others said about him and, hell, he agreed. He was temperamental, defensive, anti-social, and his patience was notoriously limited, so training somebody like Kagome, who looked like she hadn’t roughhoused a day in her life, would not be a good idea. No, he left that up to Miroku and Sango, his instructors that worked for him. Well, used to, before the world went to hell in a hand basket.

Yeah, sure, he could have someone else do it. Inuyasha was positive he could drop her off at S and S, explain the situation, and then go about his usual business of being a temperamental grump and avoiding everyone. She’d be in good hands; Sango and Ayame would immediately bond with her since they always complained about being the only two women among their group of twelve. They were talented fighters and he trusted them wholeheartedly to have his back in a fight.

The thing was, though, while he trusted everybody impeccably in their group to have his back – and yeah, even his bastard of a half-brother – for some stupid ass reason having somebody else train and teach Kagome didn’t sit well with him. It was completely asinine, but he only trusted himself to teach her how to properly protect herself, how to punch, kick, aim, block, know when to dive in, and when to retreat.

It made no goddamn sense. He didn’t have time in his day to devote to training somebody, and yet the thought of anybody else doing it, getting that close to her, even if it was Sango or Ayame, had his chest tightening and a growl to well in his throat. It wasn’t a secret that Miroku’s hands wandered, and fucking Kouga thought he was god’s gift to women. The girls would spend more time gossiping than training, the runt was too young, Sesshomaru was an asshole – when he actually bothered t show up, anyway, and wasn’t off doing his own thing – and Ginta and Hakkaku were idiots.

So no, it had to be him. And besides, he’d been fighting since he was a brat and had plenty experience. Kagome would be in good hands with a competent instructor like himself, and no, that wasn’t arrogance. Damn wolfshit had enough of that to cover everybody in their group ten times over. Besides, he was the one that found Kagome, so she was his responsibility. He would make sure she knew what to do during an ambush, what to look for, teach her every survival trick and tip he knew, and he’d make damn sure could protect herself.

Of course, the whole goddamn thing would be moot if she didn’t stay. There was a chance, after she was fully healed, she’d say thanks and go back to wherever she’d been staying before, maybe with family or friends, and why wouldn’t she? He was a stranger and sure, he’d saved her ass, but she didn’t know anything about him, just like knew virtually nothing about her other than her name, her age, and that she’d been an office worker. Inuyasha didn’t even know if she’d volunteer any information other than that when asked – it was clear she had some trust issues, with good reason – and it annoyed him that he knew so little about her, which was fucking ridiculous.

He’d just met the damn woman, of course he knew jack about her, and she was in no condition to share her life story anyway. And he told himself that it made sense, that he accepted the fact that she’d have to find out for herself whether or not he could be trusted beyond treating her wounds and providing safety while she slept, but he knew it was more than that.

For some fucking reason this tiny slip of a woman, within the simple hour he’d known her, Kagome Higurashi had managed to get under his skin, the urge to protect someone else other than himself roaring through him stronger than it ever had before. Maybe it was how she’d looked when he’d first found her; bloody, frail, and looking and smelling utterly terrified before her flight or fight response kicked in and she bolted from him, but whatever it was, Inuyasha found that he...didn’t entirely mind the thought of her hanging around. It had been instinctive, to go after her, a primal and purely male part of him screaming protect and he’d thoughtlessly obeyed.

And now Inuyasha was wondering if maybe it would be better if she didn’t stay and what was even worse, he really, really hoped that she did.

“Fuck my life,” he groused again, just barely above whisper, and finished the rest of his beer with several deep pulls.

The radio on the table crackled to life and Inuyasha was already standing it up to retrieve it when a familiar voice spilled from the speaker.

“Monk to Ash, come in.”

Ears flattening and darting a quick look to the slumbering woman on the bed, Inuyasha snatched up the radio and depressed the switch.

“Copy,” he murmured into the mic and with one last look toward Kagome, he started heading toward the ceiling doorway. “Standby.”

He didn’t receive a reply but hadn’t really expected to as he reached up and with a hard shove, pushed the door open. The ceiling was just low enough so he could grasp the edge and haul himself up into the square opening with minimal difficulty. Instead of standing, however, he settled on the edge and let his leg dangle inside while he braced the other on the floor, knee bent as he leaned back on his hand and brought the radio to his mouth once more.

“Ash to Monk, what’s your twenty?”

“S and S,” the voice responded a second later and Inuyasha relaxed. “Back at you.”

“The shop,” Inuyasha replied. “Status.”

“In one piece,” his friend said and added on, “you?”

“Stupid question.”

A low chuckle came over the speaker and Inuyasha had to grin.

“Glad to hear you’re still alive, asshole,” Miroku, aka Monk, told him and the half-demon snorted. “You know it wouldn’t hurt to check in every other day or something. We worry about you.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Don’t waste your energy. I’ve been doing this a helluva lot longer than any of you, idiot. And besides, checking in every other day will just drain the batteries for a pointless conversation that wouldn’t even last thirty seconds.”

“Yes, but that’s what the chargers are for.”

“Which uses electricity, which is only possible because the dojo has a private generator, which uses fuel to keep going, and as you know, fuel is scarce. Use your head, moron.”

He could practically hear his friend roll his eyes on the other end as he drawled, “I sincerely doubt that giving power to the chargers makes that much of a difference, Ash.”

“I’m not checking in.”

“I—”Miroku’s voice was abruptly cut off and then an irritated female voice came through the speaker, “Make the idiot happy and check in, asshole, because you know if you don’t, he won’t stop until you respond, thus draining the battery even more.”

Inuyasha scowled. “Fuck off, Slayer.”

“You know I’m right,” Sango, aka Slayer, replied and then must have handed the radio back to Miroku.

“I mean,” his friend said and the laughter was evident in his voice. “She’s not wrong.”

Suddenly tired of this conversation, Inuyasha abruptly changed topics. “Anything new to report?”

“Possibly,” Miroku replied and Inuyasha knew the fucker was grinning. Idiot. “Cane is out patrolling with Iris, Smokey and Bandit are on clean up, the lovely Slayer is sparring with Kid. However, I like to believe Rogue showing up out of nowhere to drop off Fawn and Toad before disappearing again raises a few red flags.”

Inuyasha frowned. “When?”

“Two days ago,” Miroku supplied and then because he knew the half-demon would ask, continued,“He didn’t provide an explanation and when I asked Fawn, all she said was he was looking into something. Toad wasn’t any help either but that’s not a surprise. It was very strange.”

Inuyasha had to agree. While it wasn’t uncommon for the bastard to wander for days on end without any word from him, it was unusual for him to go anywhere without Rin. Fiercely protective of the child, Sesshomaru didn’t trust anybody but himself to ensure her safety and so for him to leave her behind suggested something was up. Inuyasha would have to ask whenever the bastard deemed to grace them with his presence again, and that could be anywhere between a few days to a fucking month.

“Fucking fantastic,” Inuyasha grumbled and thrust a hand through his hair before shaking his head. “How’s Fawn?”

He was actually quite fond of the little ball of sunshine and it came to as shock to everyone that he was in turn one of her favorite people. And although it still boggled his mind why she preferred the asshole’s company to staying where it was safe with plenty of food, water, and a warm bed to sleep in every night, he’d long ago stopped questioning it because she’d always give the same answer, accompanied by a bright, genuine smile.

“I belong with Sesshomaru.”

He didn’t understand it, and probably never would.

“Seems fine. Playing with Scout,” Miroku replied. “She was very tired when she arrived, however, and I suspect that might be part of the reason why Rogue dropped her off before leaving. I’d imagine it’d be difficult to get enough sleep when one travels as much as your brother.”

“Half-brother,” Inuyasha automatically corrected, frowning. “Yeah, maybe. It’s that, or he’s going someplace where he deems is too dangerous to bring her with him. Anywhere outside is dangerous, though, so where the hell could he be going?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, my friend,” Miroku returned and the shrug was obvious in his tone.

The two lapsed into contemplative silence for several moments and Inuyasha was staring down into the square opening, wondering what the hell his bastard of a half-brother was up do, when the radio in his hand crackled to life again.

“Anyway,” Miroku said, sounding like his usual upbeat self, “how about yourself, Ash? Anything noteworthy happen?”

Inuyasha blinked at the radio then turned his gaze to the floor again, approximately where a certain dark-haired woman was sleeping peacefully beneath the shop. He grimaced.

“Monk,” he said dryly, “you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had today.”

“Oh?” His friend sounded genuinely interested, and with a sigh, Inuyasha recounted the day’s events to him, staring with last night when he’d found that bag of toiletries (“Oh, Slayer and Iris will be thrilled,” he’d opined) to how he’d brought Kagome back to the shop and treated her wounds. Because Miroku was his best friend and one of the few people he could trust with anything, he also expressed is doubts and concerns about the entire situation and he was grateful when Miroku listened attentively and didn’t interrupt.

When he was finished, Miroku didn’t say anything for several minutes and Inuyasha let him gather his thoughts as he stared listlessly at a pallet socked with cases of water that he’d compiled himself. He’d be bringing some of them back with him to S and S in about four or five days when Smokey and Bandit showed up to take this place.

The two-way crackled to life, breaking the silence and interrupting his thoughts. “You haven’t told her about us.” He didn’t sound accusatory or anything, but merely curious.

Inuyasha sighed. “No. I barely got her to eat something before she passed out from pain and exhaustion.”

“Do you think she’s dangerous? Can she be trusted?”

The half-demon actually snorted at that, recalling the weak punches she’d thrown at him while trying to escape earlier.

“Trust me, Monk,” he drawled, “she’s about as dangerous as a kitten.”

“Then I don’t see the harm in bringing her here,” his friend said, completely serious. “It sounds to me like she could really use some help, Ash. Even if she was separated from her family or friends, I wouldn’t feel right sending her back out there alone to find them herself so at the very least, we could assist her in locating them and escort her. And who knows? Maybe by doing so we can expand our band of merry misfits and get them to come back with us if where they are staying isn’t secured. The more people we have, the better chances of survival.”

“And the more mouths we have to feed and clothe and protect and shelter,” Inuyasha fired back without missing a beat.

“You don’t really believe that, Ash, so don’t try and tell me otherwise. I know you.”

The half-demon grimaced and didn’t bother to comment. Sango liked to tease him that he was nothing but a big softie and dammit, sometimes he thought she might be right. Scout and now Kagome was a prime example of that.  

“Smokey and Bandit will be there in five days,” Miroku told him, accurately taking his silence for what it was. “In the meantime, and I know I don’t have to tell you this, but try and get some more information on her family and her thoughts on joining us. I presume you are going to be seeing to her training if she stays, yes?”

Inuyasha snorted into the mic.

Miroku laughed on the other end, but hit the switch on the two-way afterward so the half-demon didn’t hear it. “I thought so. Let me know so I can tell the others. I’m sure the girls will be thrilled to have another woman to talk to.”

Sighing, Inuyasha tipped his head and stared at the ceiling, golden eyes unseeing.

“Ash?” The two-way crackled. “Do you read?”

He hit the switch and raised it to his lips. “Yeah,” Inuyasha murmured and dropped his gaze back to the floor, seeing through it to the oblivious woman sleeping on the bed. “Yeah, I read you.”

“See you in five days, my friend.” A pause. “Try not to die before that, alright?”

Inuyasha’s lips twitched and he chucked, depressing the switch and returning, “Same to you, idiot. And tell Scout not to eat all my fucking ramen.”

Ch. 3

buy me a coffee? :)

[misssophiachase]

I'm so excited about the Jodice cons coming up this year, I felt the need to write a little FF based on them (kill me if it's more than 10 parts) leading up to June. 

Synopsis: Actors Candice Accola and Joseph Morgan don't like each other at first but being forced to act together means they can't avoid the simmering attraction developing behind the scenes. Fast forward 8 years and they're due to appear in two fan conventions but given all the baggage and unresolved issues things aren't going to run as smoothly as organisers would hope.

Give Me Love

Part 1: Hello

“They say that time's supposed to heal you...But I ain't done much healing.”

June - 2019 - Los Angeles CA

What exactly do you say to the person who can see straight through you?

That was Candice's biggest challenge ahead of Bloody Night Con in seven days, not that she was counting. She hadn't seen Joseph in eighteen months and although he continued to plague her thoughts, at least she didn't have to actually converse with him. Talk about awkward if she did.

Hello and how are you didn't seem to cut it after all they'd been through together and apart the past eight years.

It was a cool, grey afternoon in Los Angeles, Candice was stretched out in the love seat by her window nursing a cup of herbal tea. In fact, it was French Earl Grey, something Joseph had introduced into her diet all those years ago. Something she couldn't quite let go of yet. If any ex-boyfriend had given or introduced her to anything it would find itself in the closest garbage bin straight after the break-up.

With him it was different.

The Chelsea FC jersey he gifted her still hung in the wardrobe (even though she supported Arsenal just to annoy him), his first edition copy of Great Expectations and the sketches he did while they holidayed in Saint Barts were housed in the den and the remnants of Acqua Di Gio hidden away in the bathroom cabinet. 

Most people would put that down to forgetfulness. After all, you can't be expected to remember everything left over during a break-up. But Candice knew every single item and where they were, she just didn't want to part with them. Hence why Joseph Morgan was scattered all throughout her apartment to this day, not that she advertised the fact for obvious reasons.

She fingered the silver, antique locket around her neck. It was the last remaining piece of him and she liked to wear it close to her heart when she was alone. Not all the time but in moments of reflection. They were picnicking in Tuscany, their May birthdays only a few weeks apart, soaking up the wine, pasta and sunshine during a break in filming. He'd plucked the gift from what seemed like thin air, housed in a white box with a royal, blue ribbon. Her favourite colour.

The locket's exterior was flawless but the best was yet to come. She could still remember how he laid her against his chest as the sun set over the hills and told her the story of his grandparents who were split apart during the war and how they came back to each other again stronger and even more in love. The fact he'd placed their faded, black and white picture next to theirs in the locket was enough to cause a few tears and a thank you that lasted quite a few subsequent days in their hotel room.

He never asked for it back and Candice was glad he didn't. Maybe it was selfish but it just meant too much to return.

She picked up her phone, scrolling through her social media feed as she did so often. Candice knew that looking at her twitter feed was never a good idea. If she wanted a reminder of her relationship with Joseph it was plastered across her timeline on a daily basis. Granted the photos were either scenes they shared from the shows or creative fan edits but they all stirred the same feelings inside.

Candice didn't want to but she missed him. Still. She was happy his latest directorial foray into film had been such a success. If there was something Candice knew it was how good he was at directing people, she'd been one of his star performers in the bedroom after all.

Looking back, Candice would never forget the first time they met at the Craft Services table on set. It was season two of The Vampire Diaries and his character was cast as the big bad and from what Candice knew they wouldn't really have any scenes together but it didn't stop her from thinking he was all sorts of cute with that accent and those dimples.

February - 2011 - Atlanta, GA

"Did the new guy smirk at you?" Candice asked Kat earnestly.

They were in wardrobe after lunch break and she couldn't stop thinking about the way Joseph had been looking at her while they spoke. They'd just met so she thought it was strange, not to mention a little rude. Just because he had a gorgeous accent and lips the colour of deep crimson didn't give him the right to think he was God's greatest gift. Although Ian was an exact and nauseating replica of that, so why should she be surprised?

"I think he has a name, Candice." Kat mumbled from the corner where she was changing her top behind the makeshift screen.

"That's not the point."

"What do you mean smirk? He's always been perfectly polite and professional with me. What did he say anyway?"

"Wished me good afternoon and then I asked him how he's finding everything on set given he's just come onboard." They'd been shooting for the better part of the morning and the hungry hordes had made their way to the craft services table absolutely famished. Her eyes were firmly focused on the sushi, Candice was pretty certain she could have finished the entire plate on her own.

"Sounds pretty inoffensive, maybe that's just the way he smiles at people, did you ever think that?" Kat asked, finally emerging from changing her clothes for the next scene and looking at her curiously.

"You didn't see it, Kat," she sighed. "It was almost like..."

"He was trying not to laugh?"

"Excuse me?" Kat let out a giggle, moving closer and wiping her face with a tissue she'd swiped from the nearby table. "What are you doing?"

"You, uh, have some rice on your cheek," she smiled, knowingly.

"What?" She asked rubbing her face, slightly mortified.

"Seems like someone was trying to hide that fact and obviously it took the form of a smirk." Candice went from completely embarrassed to annoyed in seconds. How dare he do that?

"The least he could have done was say something rather than embarrass me like that in front of the cast and crew," she muttered.

"You just met the guy, he probably thought it wasn't polite to call you out about food on your face. It doesn't make for the easiest first conversation."

"Yet instead he was secretly laughing at me," she growled. "You know, I'm just happy that we don't have any scenes together because I'm not sure I could stand that smirk and those dimples from such a close proximity."

"Sounds like someone was paying an awful lot of attention to someone's dimples," she grinned. Candice didn't respond just busied herself for the next scene.

From then Candice made it her mission to steer clear of the new guy, until it became almost impossible to avoid him. That's what you got for being on a hit TV show and having to do publicity together. And there was no bigger publicity opportunity than the annual Comic Con in San Diego.

July - 2011 - San Diego, CA

This wasn't her first Comic Con, so it was going to be easy right? But apparently the powers above in the network decided to invite him along for the first time. Candice was generally very welcoming but she still wasn't quite sure what to think of their newest cast member.

Given he was pretty much the most evil character to hit the Vampire Diaries in its entire run so far, no one was expecting such a frenzied reception. Turns out a lot of the girls there seemed to have a thing for the bad guy. Candice really should have known.

She found herself looking across at Joseph at the signing table, his dark, blonde hair curled over his ears and that grey, fitted t-shirt highlighting his toned chest. He didn't scrub up too badly and it seemed like the screaming legions of female fans wholeheartedly agreed. Ever since their first meeting all those months ago they'd barely had any interaction, mainly because they didn't share any scenes.

After the craziness of 5000 screaming fans at the panel earlier in the day and a never ending number of interviews it was time for the after party, an opportunity to let loose and really enjoy themselves. Given they were all staying in the same hotel it seemed normal that they made their way together however for some reason it was just him and her crossing the street while surrounded by screaming photographers.

Candice was trying not to stare at just how adorable he looked in that suit while making sure her strapless, aqua dress was still in place as they walked brusquely to avoid the cameras. If there was one thing she knew about Joseph from their day at Comic Con it was just how overwhelmed he seemed to be around the press. For Candice it was actually refreshing given how arrogant some actors could be. Maybe she'd misjudged him?

One of the photographers got too close, knocking her slightly and Joseph reached forward without thinking. His hand grazed her lower back and Candice felt herself shiver slightly. "Are you okay, love?"

"Um, yeah, thanks," she mumbled, her gaze cast downwards. "It's uh just a little cold." She cursed inwardly thinking what a lame excuse it was. The one thing Candice knew without a doubt was that 90 degrees on a Summer night in San Diego wasn't in the least bit cold and she was sure he was aware of that fact.

"If I had a jacket I'd give it to you," he promised choosing to ignore her lie, steering her towards their destination. Maybe it wasn't the best look given the press would misconstrue anything but right now she didn't give a damn, it felt far too good having his hand on her back.

"Nice to see chivalry isn't completely dead," she smirked, and by his expression he couldn't miss the sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Is there something I'm missing?" Joseph murmured, trying to avoid the inquisitive stares of the reporters loitering close by. "You realise I'm a gentleman, right?"

"A gentleman who doesn't tell a girl she has rice stuck to her cheek?"

"I didn't want to be rude," he insisted, his cheeks colouring slightly with embarrassment. She'd never admit it aloud but it was pretty cute.

"Trust me, Morgan, a girl needs to know these things even if she barely knows you."

"Noted, Accola," he grinned.

"Um, we're here," she said, gesturing towards the hotel where the party was being held. "You can let go of me now." As soon as Candice said it she regretted it as he lifted his hand from her lower back. She gave him a thankful smile and breezed into the party like the professional actress she was. But she'd be lying if she couldn't still feel the residual heat on her back.

October - 2011 - Atlanta, GA

"Social media is going to go nuts," Candice murmured, laying herself out on the bed. "You know if it's anything like the response from you putting your hand on my back at Comic Con in July."

"I was only trying to protect you," he replied, flashing her one of his winning smiles.

They were currently at the Forbes house ready to film their second ever scene together. Candice would be lying if it wasn't a big moment for her. She'd always been able to hide her attraction for him because they didn't share any scenes, well until now that was. Now she had to be in close proximity and in a bed of all things. She wasn't quite sure what the writers were getting at given she'd been so hot and heavy with Michael's character Tyler lately.

"Funnily enough I didn't need protection and we both know that," she smirked. "I really should have known Klaus would order Tyler to bite me only to ride in on his horse and save the day."

"I think you've misjudged Klaus, he really can be a nice guy," he offered, winking in her direction. "Speaking of which, I better go wrangle my horse in anticipation."

Candice would be lying if she didn't think he was cute. She'd been so quick to write him off as one of your typical, egotistical actors she came across daily (not naming any names of course) but he had this adorable wit that she couldn't quite resist. Ever since he'd placed his hand on her back in July she'd been a little distracted by those lips and those damn dimples too.

Candice was an actor first and foremost and the scene played out exactly as planned but she couldn't deny just how good it felt to have his body pressed up against hers in bed as she pretended to drink from his wrist. His chest seemed so much more toned than she'd imagined and the smell of his spicy aftershave was definitely causing a few foreign feelings to take over. It was all done in one take, unheard of but Candice knew their underlying chemistry had definitely played its part in creating such a perfect scene.

"Don't worry I'm not counting," he smiled rising from the bed, as the crew moved away in preparedness for the next scene.

"I'm sorry?"

"You know the number of times I've saved you."

"Oh p-uh-lease," she groaned, rolling her eyes as she did. Candice was finding it more and more difficult not to act on her burgeoning feelings for him and she secretly hoped they got more time to spend with each other on set as an excuse.

TBC...On FF HERE

Fun Real Life Fact: Joseph first saw Candice at the craft services table with rice on her face

[bisexualstokes-archive]

Jack + Identity Crisis + Murdoc (1/?)

Chapter (1/?): Who’s Jack? Rating: Teen+ Summary: "I don't know, me? I'm method. When I go undercover, I become that person."

After having suffered a serious head injury, a brainwashed Jack Dalton assumes the life of CSI Nick Stokes, both for his protection and Nick’s. Murdoc gets wind of this and takes a trip down to Vegas to “play” with Jack in an attempt to lure Macgyver out of hiding. Meanwhile, the real Nick Stokes is abducted and tortured by people who think he's Jack Dalton.

Macgyver/CSI crossover, based on this AU gifset I made

Read it on A03

Nick Stokes loosened his tie as he walked through the parking garage of the San Diego Crime Lab. A long day of phone calls, paperwork, and having to resist the urge to just glove up and go investigate crime scenes instead of talking to the press made his feet drag on the ground as he opened the trunk to his car.

“Nick Stokes?” a voice called behind him. A female one, maybe another reporter?

“Listen, ma’am, I have no further comments on the matter,” Nick began to say, turning to face the woman but he quickly found that she wasn’t alone, and wasn’t unarmed. He tried to memorize as many details about the pair as he could, the female’s hair was tied up in a ponytail, she was wearing a Iron Maiden sleeveless shirt, a gas mask covering her face. She was armed with a can of spray, but it wasn't pepper spray. The man next to her was dark-skinned, also wearing a gas mask, holding a black piece of fabric in one hand and zipties in the other.

He immediately reached for his gun secured to his waist holster, but suddenly his vision was clouded and the whole world fell dark.

“He really does look like him,” the woman says, her voice almost...sad?

“Yeah, it’s kind of creepy. And we thought having one Jack running around was bad enough,” the man replied.

Jack? Who’s Jack?

-------------------------------------------------

Visions of a never-ending desert swirl in front of him, explosions causing miniature sandstorms to spike up all over the landscape. The air is filled with sand and smoke, which constricts his breathing. Ringing and screaming in his eardrums, so loud, he wonders how he’s still able to hear anything. He’s surrounded by people, some of them close to him, and some of them complete strangers, and yet, he has never felt so alone.

Alone...he was alone when that stupid plan he agreed to out of desperation went up in the same smoke that now fills his lungs. The right side of his head throbs, stings, his vision is blurred, he can feel a small stream of blood slide down his cheek. The screaming is now his own, he feels like he’s never been in so much pain in his entire life.

He feels like he’s levitating in the air, rising up, then moving forward, slowly. His body feels like it’s on fire, particularly at his feet. He forces his eyes open, expecting to see the source of the stench of burning wood that invades his nostrils.

But instead, he opens his eyes and sees glass walls, holding back dirt. A fan whirs next to him, a gun lays on his chest. He had a dream like this once...but he died in that dream, was he going to die now?

“No...no no no no no no…” he mutters.

A hand touches his shoulder, gently shaking his body. The pain in his head fades, the last scream escapes his body.

“Nicky?”

Nicky? Who’s Nicky?

“Nick,” the voice is feminine, soft, but firm. He doesn’t recognize the voice, but there’s something motherly about it, trustworthy.

A different trustworthy voice, another feminine voice, screaming at him in his head, asking him, “What is your name?” over and over again...His name...his name is...

“Nick!”

Nick sits up, his body shivering from the the cold sweat on his skin. He breathes heavily, observing the surroundings in front of him. He’s laying on a couch, staring directly at a vending machine. His eyes begin to dart all over the room, searching for entry and exit points, out of some instinct he can’t seem to explain. He’s taken aback by the woman who is kneeling next to him, staring at him with wide, worried eyes. He didn’t recognize her voice, but now, he recognizes the face.

“C-Catherine?” he whispers. She nods, he notices her lips quivering slightly. “Cath, what--where am I?”

“Vegas. You’re in the Vegas Crime Lab,”

“Vegas? But...but I was in San Diego…”

Or was he in Los Angeles?

“You transferred back after you heard about Finlay’s...passing.”

“F-Finn? She--?” tears began to sting in his eyes, he rubs his hands over his face. He takes sharp breath of air into his body, and a shake exhale soon leaves. As he composes himself, questions swirl in his head. He feels like he’s missing out on something, the facts in his head are not quite matching up with the picture in front of him.

“Where’s D.B?” he asks. “I thought you were working with the FBI? Where’s Sara?”

“D.B transferred out, Sara’s out venturing around the world with Grissom, and I’m...well, I’m the crime lab director.”

She gestures to her badge on her chest, and Nick suddenly became aware of his own badge, clipped to his shirt pocket. The title on his badge reads “Night Shift Supervisor.”

Catherine’s cell phone rings, and she gives Nick a sad smile as he continues to examine the ring on his finger, the wristband on his left hand, and watch on his left.

“Speaking of which, duty calls. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.”

Just as soon as Catherine leaves the room, another man runs in. His hair is flat, unlike the picture in in his head, but it doesn’t make him look any less attractive. His eyes are just as wide in concern as Catherine’s were, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

“Jesus, man, your head…” the man mutters. Nick tries to hide his surprise as he touches his hand to his head, feeling the fabric of a cloth bandage wrapped around his forehead, almost like a headband.

“Good to see you too, Greg...Listen, bro, my memory’s a bit hazy...what, uh, what happened?”

“Car accident. Your first night back, didn’t even clock in and they found you on the side of the road. Paramedics said you were mostly okay, just needed a bit of rest.”

Nick nods, then chuckles.

“First night back in Vegas and I’m already causing trouble, huh?”

His smile is contagious, the concern on Greg’s face turns to shared amusement at the absurd situation.

“Hey, you want some coffee or something? You still seem a bit tired,”

“Nah, man, I hate that stuff,” Nick mutters, getting up and grabbing a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. Greg glares at him, his face furrowed in concentration. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but before he can, he gets a page on his cell phone and leaves the room.

-------------------------------------------------

“You sure this is going to work?” the Texan in the passenger’s seat asks for the umpteenth time since they left the Phoenix. Angus Macgyver rolls his eyes, starting to get annoyed with the question that he doesn’t quite have an answer for himself.

“Listen, man, if you guys really do send him back to Vegas, my friends are going to figure it out in a heartbeat,” the man continues. Macgyver keeps his eyes on the road in front of him. “They’re going to start to ask questions, and if your boy is as messed up in the head right now as he looked to be in that hospital room, he’s not going to be able to answer those questions.”

“He’ll be okay. He’s a highly trained CIA operative, he’s been undercover before,” Macgyver responds shortly.

“Well, if he’s that good at becoming me, then he’s also going to realize something ain’t right.”

“You two are more alike than you think,” Macgyver remarks at the familiar doubts lingering in the air between them.

The two sit in silence for the remainder of the ride. When they finally arrive to the safehouse hidden in the mountains, Macgyver finally breaks the silence.

“There’s no going back now.” He says it out loud, more to himself than to the man standing in front of him, clutching two duffel bags in each hand. He finally looks at the man directly, his heart sinks as he sees the face of his best friend, his partner, but it’s not him. The man in front of him doesn’t stand up with his back straightened, there’s a different sort of haunted aura in the lines on his face, his eyes are the same color, but a different light shines behind them. The man seems to be facing his own internal struggle with the situation behind a poker face that Macgyver has only seen on his friend when he is trying not to give into whatever torture is being inflicted on him.

This man is not Jack Dalton, but Macgyver can’t fight the urge as they say their goodbyes to extend out his fist.

“This will work,” Macgyver sighs, finally answering the question from earlier.

“And if it doesn’t?”

Macgyver meets the man’s eyes once more, before turning away from the man who used to be Nick Stokes, and walking silently back to his car.

[tnsmeta]

On Eldon and the concept of masculinity (in honour of 6x17) -Part 1 otherwise it will never get posted

Please bear with me, this is relevant...

The very first moment we meet Eldon, he’s wearing only blue, and judging himself in the mirror (I know this is auditions, but still - we don’t see any other character do this).

We can tell from looking at him that he doesn’t think he measures up to something (were we not still getting used to our surroundings as an audience, and of course ‘auditions' - this will also come up a lot generally). Later on we get the answer to a question we didn’t even know we were meant to be asking: he’s dancing for respect from Emily, who he thinks he likes.

He equates the better he masters a skill, to the better a person he becomes - except he doesn't quite get that last part, and won’t until Thalia comes into the picture.

Jumping back to Emily’s point-of-view of the same events, she is aware of Eldon’s (estimated five-year) crush on her but does not reciprocate, and has to turn him down at least twice a day.

“I come into the studio: ‘Hey Emily, wanna go out?’. I leave the studio: ‘Hey Emily, wanna go out?’”

In the next episode, when he finds out he’s made A-Troupe, as expected he’s overjoyed - but he shows it in quite an unusual way: he has the most aggressive ‘bro-hug’ I’ve ever seen (watch the way he tugs West back and forth). But also here, he says something we don’t quite expect:

“That’s a whole other year with Emily, that’s a whole other year I get to ask her out.”

Pause. Doesn’t he want to date Emily? Doesn’t he want her to say yes? (Not saying this is the right way to go about that, but...duh).

This is the point a lot of GA (one of my family members included at first) thinks 'aww, what a sweet harmless boy, waiting for her to be ready’ *cough*which has it’s own problems*cough*. But what a lot of us were tricked into thinking (initially, myself included) is that this is about his "devotion"/creepy obsession - call it what you want  for Emily, as misplaced or wrongly-influenced *cough cough* as it may be.

This has literally nothing to do with Emily. At this point in time, she could turn him down every single time without missing a beat and he’d be happy.

So what changes?

Well, as everyone who has seen season 1 (and still remembers it) knows, the inciting incident for the show, delayed as it may be, is Michelle’s arrival. The synopsis for S1 indicates that she’s the catalyst. She sparks the change in this little underdog studio and it shows... in more ways than one (many, many more ways).

Okay, so our agent for change is Michelle... but he doesn’t gain feelings for her until episode 7, after he’s getting more desperate (I use this word carefully) to get that crucial date with Emily? What?

Let’s return to episode 2 for a moment; A-Troupe is lined up and Emily has (rather prematurely) eagerly called the vote for Dance Captain, she gets shot down, Kate and Chris put the pressure on Michelle and... Eldon sees all of Emily’s intense attention focused on this new person. He may be clueless as to Michelle and Emily’s mutual attraction to one another, but going by episode 7 again, he knows he needs to have Emily’s attention if he’s going to have a chance in hell.

So far, Emily is a tough dance captain but given that Chloe wasn’t in A-Troupe earlier on, James is the only other person she’s given that angry rage-moment(?) to as an individual. You know, the person he clearly looks up to too much?

And Eldon decides that this time things will be different. She will notice him.

“I’m trying to get Emily but it's not working.” 

“You need to get her attention.”

“Yeah,”- he voices this in a way that suggests he has already enacted this plan before he voices it out loud to James.

Also worth mentioning here is the offer to spy at Elite - “I should have volunteered sooner, you know, to show Emily that I’m brave and I’m a man.”

If you’re wondering/can’t remember, Emily couldn’t care less - Michelle has already volunteered.

But the point is Eldon equates the offer to spy on Elite with manliness and masculinity (the fact that Michelle has already done so has completely escaped him). But... Emily's acceptance of Michelle’s help is what triggered him to suggest it? On a subconscious level Eldon is equating Emily's acceptance to attraction, and consequently restricting “the Emily in his head” to paraphrase Tiffany, to only be attracted to examples of masculinity - and that’s something he aspires to be. When we first met him looking at himself in the mirror, he was judging himself: because he thinks not having a girlfriend makes him less of a man, and consequently less of a person.

Alright, James has successfully come up with a plan to manipulate Emily into dating Eldon (keep in mind this is the person Eldon looks up to), and so Emily and Eldon go on a lovely date, learn about each other and deepen their relationship through genuine connection-

*SNORTS* Yeah, right!

As said by Emily:

“First, I think he read a book that was based in the 1940s...”

Nice, you think to yourselves, a good comedic portrayal at best, and at worst - they don't mesh (they date later). But again, there's more going on under the surface.

I digress slightly to point out that when asked her favourite line, Victoria Baldesarra also told us that sometimes the creator/director (Frank Van Keeken) would write lines, that were said as they were written *she had to take a few takes to stop laughing, because that's the footage they wanted.

Let's briefly look at what was happening in the- actually, let's look first at the 1930′s for a bit of context:

-The Great Depression in America, (think about Of Mice and Men, post-war, misconceptions had caused a lot of people to lose everything)

-The solution according to Wall Street (mostly to benefit themselves, but capitalism isn't really dealt with at all in TNS) is to create an economy boom, by making the public buy things they don't really need. (The Great Gatsby)

-How?

    -By enforcing “traditional” gender norms, shaming women that don't stay at home, to create a ready-made market of consumers

    -Thus, from this era, you have these lovely adverts for household items, that have since been banned for being sexist

    -And dating etiquette

Back to season 1, we have the template for Eldon’s behaviour, let’s revisit their ‘first date’:

Eldon is nervous and can't decide how to sit (why is this a thing? 1940′s dating etiquette - gentlemen must have a certain posture etc (it's stifling) )

He attempts to ask Emily to get a drink, but even Eldon at this point notices something just isn't right - he appears lost in thought and struggles to understand what he ‘should’ be doing next. There's nothing natural about this date, for either party.

They do interact, via a hug... but it's uncomfortable to watch - Emily is visibly repulsed. That feeling of uncomfortability is only heightened when we hear her thoughts on the evening: "It's going awful, but I have to keep reminding myself: I’m dance captain. This is basically my duty.”

The scene ends and we think ‘thank God it's over’ (unless you ship Eldony).

Then it continues, and Eldon attempts to rate the ‘three-juice’ date, at which point we find out, he hasn't even been paying attention to her.

And then he asks her out again.

Why? No seriously, why?

Obviously Emily, having sense, turns him down immediately. She knows she can turn him down without repercussion(?)

But then Eldon changes the routine.

He asks her why she won't go out with him. He's conflating a toxic ideal of masculinity, and the presumed entitlement that comes with it, with being a good person - essentially he’s hinging his entire self-worth on a girl not remotely attracted to him (who sometimes straight up uses him - they're both jerks atm) saying yes to being in a relationship with him,

There's nothing healthy about this relationship for either of them.

Back to Emily: she tells him that he tries too hard. He doesn't disagree, but argues over why - he thinks she can't see him for who he is. They dance together, and she enjoys it. She informs him that she's still not going to go out with him, he's visibly upset, but she says he can be her duet partner. 

Eldon takes this as indication to continue. Probably, because Emily had pointed out just earlier that day: “Why would I want to go out with you if I just said no to being your duet partner?!” So now he's conflating dance partner with romantic relation with self-worth... and this is where Michelle comes in (again).

[skammovistarplus]

Culture and Translation - S01 E01 C05-12

This post deals with cultural and translation concepts in clips 6 to 12, from episode 1. I also wrote about some things that I forgot to mention in the first post. I think this is it for the first episode, though. Let me know if there is stuff you’re still unclear about.

CLIP 5: Let us discuss ALEJANDRO 

As I mentioned in the first post (just click the tag), in Spain groups are pretty stable through class periods. Therefore, and based on who we’ve seen in clip 3, Eva, Lara, Lucas, Amira, Viri and Alicia all go to class together. Amira may have met Nora in class, or during break. Cris may be part of the same group, since I gathered Viri is her class president as well.

Prior to the show airing, there was some discussion over what kind of vehicle Alejandro would drive. It is EXTREMELY unusual for a Spanish high schooler to drive a car.

You can only get a driver’s license when you turn 18.

It is a somewhat involved process.

A student turns 18 in his or her second year of Bachillerato, AFTER the New Year. This is similar to Norway. Chris Berg (born the 6th of January, 1999) and Sana (born the 24th of December, 1999) are in the same grade.

Even if Alejandro had the money and means to get a driver’s license and a car in as painless a process as possible, finding a parking spot in the heart of Madrid is a fucking nightmare. My high school teachers came to work via public transit.

We find out in clip 5 that Alejandro comes to school on a motorbike. This is fine; you can get a driver’s license for a motorbike when you turn 16. There are some limits on how powerful the engine can be, but it’s still a bike.   

That said, when the profile for Alejandro went up, we found out he’s been held back a year (like Even) and he’s already 18. So he could theoretically show up with a car in the future. This factoid also implies things about Alejandro that weren’t a factor for the other Williams. All the other Williams haven’t had issues education-wise.

CLIP 6: In which Eva’s lineage is besmirched

Eva has already called Lucas a son of a bitch, but in this clip, we get the female form. Daughter of a bitch just doesn’t roll off the tongue as well as the male form, so I settled on fucking bastard.

I could’ve translated it as any number of slut-shaming slurs, but. Given the themes in Eva’s season, I think the actual slut shaming slurs will come out eventually, and I want to make a distinction between those and what Inés calls Eva in this specific clip. Right now, Inés isn’t making an issue of Eva’s sluttiness, but rather her mother’s. Who probably has no idea any of this is happening, but hey. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Inés also tells Eva, “Flipo contigo.” I translated this as the appalled, disbelieving, “I can’t believe you.” The literal translation would be “I’m tripping on [your attitude].” “Flipar” makes reference to the effects a drug has on your consciousness, mainly hallucinations. The construction “flipar contigo” can be positive or negative. They might be appalled with you, as is Inés, or they may think you’re amazing. They might think you’re boasting, or that you’re literally high! So many options!

CLIP 7: Jorge Is Concerned

Jorge has a Slytherin folder! I thought the snake was Lucas. Cute detail, though. 

I know that shippers gonna ship, and you’re not going to want to warm up to a Jonas when Penetrator Chris is coming. Still, Jorge might be the most attuned to Eva’s emotions of all the Jonases. He knows something is wrong and insists that she tell him, over and over in this clip.

Hugo and Dilan are apparently doing some kind of Fortnite meme? They could be doing a Polish traditional dance for all I know.

Hugo congratulates Dilan on a dance well danced by calling him a “cabrón.” Literally, this word would mean that Dilan is being cuckolded. For a number of reasons, I will be translating “cabrón” as bastard or asshole, unless someone actually gets cuckolded.

You can check the shows happening in Madrid on the 14th of September, if you would like to make a guess as to where the boys went that was so packed: here.

CLIP 8: Endorphin hits

I already mentioned this on Twitter, but Eva taking off her jeans to put on pajama pants, yet keeping the top she wore to school, is peak relatable.

Eva ordered a pizza from Telepizza. I find them to be too greasy and prefer other chains, but it’s certainly Spanish as fuck.

Again, I can’t tell what she’s snacking on while she reheats the pizza. Some kind of squared-shaped crackers, yes, but the brand isn’t obvious. She also grabs a few ruffled chips.

CLIP 9: These three dumbasses

I’ve said elsewhere that my top 3 Skam characters are Eva, Isak and Sana. That said, I have a huge weak spot for the Eva/Isak/Jonas trio and their dynamic in season 1. It’s a friend group that starts out seemingly stable—a couple and their best friend—but one of the thorough-lines of season 1 is how it comes to disintegrate into lies, cheating and manipulation. All the ingredients for that eventual implosion are subtly interwoven in this clip, and deployed nicely for a wholly original clip.

Tomás Aguilera is doing some great work here, he genuinely looks and sounds like he’s exhausted. But it also means he’s slurring some of his lines. I have listened to them with headphones, had someone else listen to them with the speed slowed down . . . No dice. I tried for an approximation, instead. The lines that are giving me problems are, “el triunfo está siendo una puta ______ en el campo” and “_____ se lo compró sola, ¿eh?”

I love that both Lucas and Eva are wannabe football commentators.

Jorge calls himself “el puto amo,” an extremely common way of bragging. There are in fact og Skam parody subs kicking around on Twitter, where Eskild tells Isak to say that, “Eskild es el putísimo amo,” instead of a guru. A literal translation would be, “the fucking boss/master.” I think these are both valid translations, but I already used “master” for the first clip for a totally different word. “Boss” is good, but I find “badass” to be a much more common way to brag.

Jorge calls himself a badass, and Eva replies, “Te has flipado muchísimo.” This is, again, about “flipar” or tripping. Eva thinks Jorge’s bragging is so over the top that he’s actually tripping—on the drug that is his own ego. In this case, I did go for the literal translation. Their banter is fairly par for the course. Jorge wants to build Eva up, since he just bailed on her, and he succeeds at least at making her smile.  

Lucas says of Eva’s hat that it “tiene estilo,” i.e. the hat is stylish. I translated it as, “the little hat is something.” I am aware that it loses some of the subtext about Lucas. I definitely wouldn’t fight a literal translation of the sentence. This is where I go full meta. Are the writers trying to say something about Lucas by having him say that? Or is that something any Spanish dude would say to be sarcastic? I’ve met a lot of straight guys who’d say something like that just to be funny, so I picked something that was a bit more subtle. Lucas is still commenting on Eva’s clothes, rather than Eva’s body or any number of things someone who was into girls would find attractive. He’s just doing it in a way an English-speaking straight dude would go about it. But this is a very personal take, so your mileage may vary. AM I STRAIGHT-WASHING LUCAS, especially since the people watching these subs will have probably watched all other remakes and know what’s coming? A question to ponder.

CLIP 10: Ye olde bait-and-switch pt. II

More thoughts on class trips. As I mentioned previously, I went to Majorca when I was 14. These girls will be turning 17 next year. Because of that, I find Majorca to be a bit of a destination for kiddies. When I did Baccalaureate, the class trip was to Prague, Czech Republic. This is still a thing. In fact, the high school where Skam España is filmed organizes a trip to Prague for Baccalaureate first years.

I’m not naming the school here because it took only a couple days for someone to learn where the show is shot, to go and crash the filming. Let’s avoid another Nissen situation, folks.

The fact that Viri wants to go to Majorca comes across, to me, as Viri being more immature than her peers. But, it might also be that she missed out on an earlier class trip at her former school. Or she knows that parents would absolutely not allow a bunch of high school girls to go to Prague without an adult to supervise them. Or that they won’t ever get enough money to subsidize an international trip, and she’s managing her expectations and ambitions. Or the trip is actually going to take place and it’s easier for the production team to film in Majorca.

At any rate, this trip, much like my trip to Majorca, is not supposed to entail any learning. They’re going to spend the whole day at the beach, and the whole night partying. As an aside, when Viri comments on how hot the guys are, she sounds like a divorcee ogling hot dudes. It’s hilarious because she’s so young. I tried to have that come across in translation.

There was some discussion about Cris in this trip. Og Chris Berg was someone who, while colorful in her own way, did her best to avoid confrontation. She’d much rather not say anything, rather than say something that could possibly offend someone. We see here that Cris Soto is a different kind of Chris. I could start rambling about the way the different remakes have adapted Chris, but I’ll keep this to Skam España. My impression is that, because Amira’s actress has been very vocal about the ignorance she encounters as a hijabi, Skam España is making more of an effort from the jump to show that ignorance. (In the og, we only really start to see this ignorance on the part of the whole girl squad when we get to Sana’s season. The previous impression was that only Vilde was ignorant.) I don’t feel that Cris is being intentionally rude, although Amira is certainly put off—and right to be, since Cris is making a joke about a piece of garment.

Cris just seems like she doesn’t know much about what Amira’s life is like. And although she doesn’t get it, particularly, she’s willing to go with whatever Amira feels is right for her.

As in the og, Cris brings Amira into the group. The difference is that it’s Amira who tips Nora. Of course, Noora only joined the bus group to get to know Eva, but also Sana. It works!      

CLIP 11: Madison, Wisconsin

Mr. Wonderful is a Spanish enterprise that takes inspirational/cheesy/corny stuff you’d find on Instagram, puts them on all kinds of merchandise and sells them. As you might’ve gathered from previous clips, Spanish people are a bit more rough and tumble than the Mr. Wonderful products would suggest. So while popular among some, Mr. Wondeful stuff is also hugely backlashed. There’s an instagram account called puterful_es that takes demotivators and slaps them on merchandise, too. Hilariously, Eva follows both Mr. Wonderful and Puterful on Instagram.

I know that people who watched og Skam saw Ingrid and Sara as the popular girls. However, as the show goes on, we learn that Ingrid, Sara, and their crew, are first years, just like Eva. They’re only starting to build their rep at school. The truly popular and feared girls are Maria and her Rad Girls bus crew. This isn’t the case with Inés and Alicia (who earlier was a total idiot about Amira wearing a hijab). These girls are THE girls you want to have on your side, or your projects won’t ever get off the ground.

Amira thinks it’s notable that she was born in Spain, instead of being born somewhere else and moving to Spain. I guess that makes her identity more in turmoil, since she’s constantly moving between two worlds. I think all the Sanas were born in the cities the Skams are set.

Nora is from Madison! I know @lightsandlostbells finds it hugely amusing. So do I! You’d expect someone like the Noora expy to come from someplace glamorous or exotic. Noora, Manon and Mia came from Madrid. Who knows what red-lipped woman of mystery Eleonora has done with her life. Grace is from Dallas, so not that high in the exotic scale. So far, we don’t know whether Liv has spent time anywhere else. There’s some exotism to be mined just from the magic words “Estados Unidos,” but it’s clear the girls don’t find Madison hugely impressive. If Nora had come from New York or Los Angeles, the meeting would’ve gone off the rails because the girls would have so many questions.

In real life, Nora’s actress Nicole Wallace’s father is from the D.C. area, while her mom is Spanish.

Viri’s façade is torn to pieces when she sullenly mutters, “De puta madre.” This would be a sarcastic way of saying, “Fucking great.” I picked fucking hell, but in hindsight, I’d fix that. Subs are a continuous work in progress, I’ve found.

There has also been some discussion regarding house parties. House parties have not been part of my Spanish teenage experience. It is far, far more common to go to “botellones.” I know there’s some confusion over what a botellón is or isn’t, so I’ll explain. There are some public places in Spanish cities (parks, squares, basically any decently-lit place with space to accommodate hundreds of people) where teenies will gather every weekend. They will bring their own beverages and get drunk. They will mingle, perhaps meet someone new and hook up. Botellones are unofficial gatherings. You don’t need to get an invite. It’s a public place. You go there because you know other people are going to be there. You can hit botellones in other neighborhoods for a change of pace, and no one’s going to tell you to stay out.

It is much cheaper to buy some booze at a convenience store, than to buy a drink or several at a bar. Besides, the drinking age in Spain is 18, so the girls wouldn’t necessarily be able to get into a club, and they’d be carded.

I’m not sure whether we will see botellones in Skam España, simply because the logistics of filming one would be really complicated. You’d need about a hundred extras, each with an NDA, the willing participation and silence of a neighborhood, and to make sure no one’s going to wander in and find a camera crew filming everyone. That said, the trailer did contain some videos clearly shot at botellones. Possibly actual botellones, not ones for the show.

But back to the house parties. While they haven’t been part of my experience, I’m told they do happen, in neighborhoods that are way posher than mine. Alejandro and Cristián are implied to be that rich, so I guess it works. More on that in episode 2 commentary.

Amira implies she wouldn’t be successful at flirting, because her hijab would put guys off. This is a departure from the og, where the Penetrators were certainly into the idea of partying with Sana. I’m not sure I believe that plenty of Spanish guys wouldn’t want to hit that BECAUSE of the hijab, too. And let’s be clear, while Amira singles Eva and Nora out as pretty, none of these girls would have an issue getting hot dudes to consider them.  

My parents wouldn’t have been happy to find I’ve been drinking their beer, while underage, and offering it to my similarly underage friends.

CLIP 12: Can’t miss that backpack  

The microphones caught bits of a background conversation mentioning Ramadan, but I don’t think that was intentional. I didn’t include it in the subs. If a random conversation, such as the girl from the og that was hungover on Wednesday, seems relevant, I’ll include it.

Much like Jorge, Nora has caught on that there’s something wrong with Eva. She asks her if she’s fine several times. Also, I guess since Nora just came from MADISON, WISCONSIN, UNITED STATES, she’s still not great with the bus system. She did get to the meeting late, after all.

[satellitephonebuy-blog]

Top  Reviews and Complaints about Safelite AutoGlass

I am a trucker (18 wheeler). I have tried 2 Safelite windshields and both got traveling cracks (DOT FAIL!) from a ding that, on a properly laminated windshield would have just been a nickel-sized ding. Safelite truck windshields are junk. I don't know what sort of laminate (if any) they have from their foreign-made garbage, but I will only use OEM or OEM quality henceforth.

My windshield was hit by several rocks from the back of someone's truck on the freeway. I ended up with 5 tiny chips in my windshield. Took my car to Safelite to fill the tiny chips. When I got my car back there was an eight inch crack across my windshield. I should it to them right away. They said that can happen when it is filled. Let me give you a quote to replace the windshield. I said, "Why should I have to pay?" I then called the main number who told me that can happen. Let me give you $50.00 off the cost of the replacement. I am going elsewhere that charges less.

We value your privacy. Unsubscribe easily.

       Are you this business?        Learn more about ConsumerAffairs for Brands        

R of Blairsville, GA

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Dec. 12, 2018

I needed my back car window replaced. I called Safelite on a Sunday, and they had me scheduled for two days later. I live in a rural area, but they came to my house at the time they promised, and Randy did an awesome job replacing the glass. They worked with my insurance. Very friendly too. They’ve made a customer for life.

Carol of Berlin, NJ

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Dec. 8, 2018

I made appointment after listening to rep. on phone saying Safelite best and fastest way to get replacement auto glass. I know it's hard to find glass for order cars. Was told I would have replaced today. Took off from work. Tech called 2 hours before appt to say shop they ordered from never got glass? Formatted texts telling me they are sorry. To have a nice day? Maybe in by Monday and installed Tuesday? Why not be sure before setting appt? Disappointed! They had to know availability after or before setting my appt. It's 24 degrees out. Shrink wrap won't prevent damage. Make sure you get confirmation of availability! I didn't and now stuck!

Marilyn of Clarksville, TN

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Dec. 6, 2018

My window was down and would not come up. They found out why that was and told me what was needed. They covered my window with plastic until it could be repaired. These guys never turned me away. Thank You. Safelite for having such wonderful staff.

               How do I know I can trust these reviews about Safelite AutoGlass?            

                       1,325,477 reviews on ConsumerAffairs are verified.                    

                       We require contact information to ensure our reviewers are real.                    

                       We use intelligent software that helps us maintain the integrity of reviews.                    

                       Our moderators read all reviews to verify quality and helpfulness.                    

For more information about reviews on ConsumerAffairs.com please visit our                    FAQ.                

Richard of Cortland, NY

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Dec. 3, 2018

After reading many of the comments on this board, I was seriously concerned with having this company do my windshield replacement. My car has a lot of electronic stuff that is controlled by the material in the windshield. I was afraid some of this would no longer work after the replacement. My insurance company uses Safelite and I told them my concerns and they assured me that if there were any problems they would take care of it. Anyway, everything was done quickly and efficiently and everything works! The experience was excellent for us.

Mark of Philadelphia, PA

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 24, 2018

Read the reviews on their site and decided: What could go wrong and then scheduled my appointment at my home... The installer removed my old windshield and all trims wipers etc. Then told he could not install the new one due to there being some rust looking dirt around perimeter of the rim (my truck is 20 years old and in very good condition)... After checking it for myself and concluding it was sound and not actual rust, the installer still declined to put it in and left me high and dry with no windshield at all... I should've listened to my gut after reading some of the other negative reviews. Fool me once shame on them. Fool me twice shame on me.

Scott of Kenosha, WI

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 24, 2018

USAA uses Safelite Glass for auto glass repairs and refers me here. Have had issues in the past too. Couple years ago, took multiple calls to schedule appt then they never showed up or cancelled at the last minute - not sure which. Rescheduling was a major hassle again. This past time, we had 9AM appt this morning for windshield replacement. Because of all the past problems, called yesterday to ask if windshield was in - said was on backorder and was scheduled to come in December 8th - 2 weeks away. Asked if they would call me when it comes in - "oh yes sir - we'll call you". Saved myself a trip going in this morning when there is no windshield to install because they never called to let me know.

John of Horicon, WI

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 24, 2018

I can't say how disappointed I am again with these idiots. My truck was broken into and I made specific plans with the dispatcher and again the technician did read the notes. I was out of country and had to have the spare key from my truck driven down to airport hotel where the window was broken. Oh did mention it was winter and it's snowing by a friend and his number was also given to Safelite. They are great at one thing - screwing up the entire replacement. I'm not going to use them ever again in fact I would rather have my eyeballs poked out with a rusty fork than have to go through the incompetence again.

William of Half Moon Bay, CA

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 17, 2018

Replaced windshield in my wife’s car, then had to come back to fix the poor job. Tried to get them to come to my house (25 minutes) to replace my car’s windshield. Refused to come despite ad that says they will do mobile repair at my choice. Can’t believe in their service or quality of repair.

Sara of Melvin, MI

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 15, 2018

My insurance company (Liberty Mutual) sent Safelite to my house to repair a stone chip the size of half a pea. There were two tiny cracks on either side of the chip and I needed it fixed before it cracked. The guy came out and "fixed" it. About 10 minutes after he left I got in my car and saw no difference, and there was a noticeable divot in the windshield that wasn't even filled flush. I called them and they assured me it was fixed and would NOT crack. I said it is not fixed and WILL crack. She again assured me it wouldn't and though "it may not look fixed it is, and won't crack".

Well, like I said, 11 days later it cracked across my entire windshield and now I have to pay to put in a completely new one. They told me it's a known risk that repairs DON'T WORK and by signing their form I was well aware of that. DO NOT USE SAFELITE. If you do, DO NOT SIGN THEIR FORM, IT RELEASES THEM FROM FAULT when they send a hack out and he doesn't know how to do a chip repair.

                   View more                

Gianna of Buffalo, NY

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 15, 2018

Safelite already replaced two windshields on the same vehicle and this morning I noticed my windshield was cracked again. This will be the third windshield I've had to have replaced by Safelite. During previous installments, they did not replace the rearview mirror which is attached to the windhield, properly. They did not use adequate adhesive and it fell off while driving. During installation, the tech used vice grips on the antennae which stripped the paint. I believe Safelite takes advantage of insurance companies who offer glass coverage, and inconveniences their customers with shabby work and inferior products.

Richard of Monroe, MI

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 9, 2018

I ordered 2 windshields for my classic cars. 1971 Chevelle and 1982 Camero. Scheduled an appointment with them, the day before the installation scheduled they called and said I would have to bring the Chevelle to their shop. I have no plates on the car so I said I would have to bring it later. But I would like the Camero done on schedule the next day between 8 and 12. Called them at 12 they said they canceled the appointment so after taking off work and waiting 4 hr. They said they were sorry. I scheduled replacement with Floral City Glass in Monroe MI great job, less expensive and done on schedule.

Kenneth of Houston, TX

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 5, 2018

Just had great experience having our 2016 Jeep Wranglers windshield replaced at my home in Houston. The technician's name is Anthony. He contacted me to say he could arrive much earlier than expected (huge plus because had 5 hr window which I hate)... Not only did he arrive within exact time he stated, but my jeep was rather dirty since it’s been raining so much in Houston and he took ample time properly wiping all the windows... which had me stunned seeing this?!

Nowadays (especially young staff) technicians rush thru jobs doing it very half-assed! Anthony took his time paying attention to details and afterwards explained exactly what he’d done, plus reviewed the warranty in layman terms. I’d say including fair pricing, I couldn’t imagine receiving better service with a genuine attractive smile than I received earlier today... Thanks again to my technician. As in the field you guys are who we customers see as THE COMPANY>> irregardless how big or small the vendors may be...

                   View more                

Ric of Harrison, AR

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 4, 2018

Having a cracked windshield on 2004 Cadillac Seville, called Safelite to replace. Installer came to home, installed windshield. No problem. 2 weeks later, at 70 mph on Freeway, windshield rubber molding ripped out, slammed up to roof, destroyed sunroof deflector & roof paint. Installer did NOT replace the molding which IS PART OF THE INSTALL PROCESS! Reinstalled a new glass by a body shop who did it right. Beware of this outfit using amateurs to install product!

Marc of Hernando, MS

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Nov. 3, 2018

Technician arrived on Time. Started to work but did not have the Proper Tools to Remove my Windshield, So we waited for another Technician to show up... 50 minutes to drive 12 miles??? What the H?? He brought the "TOOL" we needed and job was finished 35 minutes later. Before my technician put my windshield on I noticed my headliner hanging down in front of my passenger visor. I asked him about it and he quickly replied "That was already there." I KNOW IT WAS NOT AS I HAD JUST CLEANED MY INTERIOR!!! Now I'm going to have to buy spray on glue and fix it myself. Safelite Customer Service has a Horrible Reputation in Satisfying their customers. My repair cost me $100.00 more than anyone else.

Jeff of Otsego, MI

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 31, 2018

Had appointment. My man called me. Was late then got here and told me he couldn't touch my truck. I have a very nice F150 with a painted to match visor over the windshield with the yellow lights. So I wasted half my day for nothing. Thank you AAA for sending them to me n ed very again first place I called said, "No problem. They're coming tomorrow."

Mike of Elk Grove Village, IL

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 25, 2018

Safelite damaged my vehicle, and made me go through a 6 long week ordeal. 1. They sent an incompetent technician to work my Mercedes. 2. He scratched the car, dropped a couple of screws in the engine area and best of all didn't even install the glass properly. He had audacity of asking for 5 stars on his survey. 3. Then a manager comes in saying he'll fix everything. He did not. He was good at coming up with excuses. He was good at making me feel stupid and dumb. He outright lied about installing new wind strip when it was clearly visible that is was same old weathered strip. Please be aware! Find a company that knows how to 1) respect customers and 2) do the job.

Susan of Orrville, OH

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 24, 2018

My technician showed up without proper equipment, said he'd be back within an hour & left. Tech came back 90 min later. I was working & couldn’t keep an eye on him. (They advertise peace of mind, right?) Technician installed the windshield & left without contacting me. Hours later I get off work & to my car for the 1st time & see ripples in the black strip along the top of my windshield. Technician left my keys turned on, therefore my car needed jumped before I could leave work. They send out a second tech the following day, who says the ripples are "normal" and applies more glue & tape.

I called corporate to resolve the issue, very disgusted with this company. Management is very rude, not taking responsibility for any wrong, stating the Tech has been with the company for 2 yrs, etc. No offer to compensate for the inconvenience or having to jump my car before I could go home after their Tech killed my battery. Safelite is a joke. Don't waste your time, you're better off taking a day off work & having your windshield replaced by true professionals.

                   View more                

Linda of Mequon, WI

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 22, 2018

They gave me a window 8-5. Driver called at 3 and said he'd be here by 4. I called 4:30 and they said he was running late. Talked to mgr twice. Now sipped to come by 6! Wasted a whole day waiting. 10 hours total wait if they get here ever. Don't recommend this company in any way. Useless customer service. They just don’t give a damn.

Stacey of Minneapolis, MN

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 22, 2018

The first mobile appointment I had was canceled because it was misting out and they don't work in the rain. The second appoint was cancel, without my knowledge. The guy showed up, told me he couldn't replace since it was in a busy street and I stood in the middle of the street with him for 5 minutes and only one car passed us by. I think moved my car to a parking lot and he said he could take it from there. He did nothing other than cancel my appointment (without telling me) and just left. I text him multiple times and no response. When I asked why he didn't fix it like he said he was going to he told me I had been rescheduled. I asked to when and where and he didn't respond. Unprofessional! Wasted my time and his! And wasted company resources.

Pall of Edmond, OK

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 18, 2018

Safelite technician attempted to fix a 1/2" chip in my windshield, but while doing so applied too much pressure causing the chip to crack 18" across. He then handed me a $350 quote for a new windshield. After complaining, the corporate office offered me a $50 discount on the new windshield. Lolololol! How is this company in business???

Kimberly of Albuquerque, NM

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 15, 2018

I had my windshield replaced with Safelite then I got a stress crack. They came out to look at it. The tech said it was a stress crack then all of a sudden he says it was a rock. Sent a picture to his manager and the manager says six rocks at my windshield when no rock hit my windshield whatsoever. Now they are refusing to replace the windshield which is under a lifetime warranty. This place is terrible. Do not do business with them. They lie and scam. It’s one of the worst businesses out there.

Heather of Pierpont, OH

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 15, 2018

I have a cracked windshield and had set up an appointment two weeks ago. I checked my messages, emails and even the invoice page messages for any issues daily. Day came for them to arrive. I took vacation hours to stay home and wait for them. Only message I had received was one from "Gary" that stated he would be by around 12pm-5pm, and that he would text when he was arriving.

I waited all day and checked my messages every half an hour. Not a single message about being on his way or having issues finding my place. In the end I gave up after 5 pm and decide to leave the house to get something to eat. As I am driving I get the message that my appointment was canceled. No reason, no anything. This was 15-20mins after 5 pm.

I am now upset and call the customer "care", I get a woman saying she has no idea why and that she will email the guy but that is all she can do besides set up a new appointment. I can't spend ALL MY VACATION TIME WAITING FOR AN APPOINTMENT THEY CAN CANCEL 15 MINS AFTER ITS LATEST TIME! It is utterly ridiculous and the lack of actual caring for the customer is appalling. I refuse to make a new appointment and am gladly willing to take my business elsewhere. I would send screenshots of my messages if it let me do so here. I'd advise to not trust this company.

                   View more                

Cecelia of Peoria, AZ

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 10, 2018

Cross country trip, bad hail storm in Colorado Springs, called ins. asap. Sent to Safelite Customer Service. Three different operators unhelpful; unsympathetic, would not schedule for 5 days; no attempt to find a way to help travelers. Asked for shop on the way to Kansas, still would not schedule for a week. Fortunately local Denver shop was sympathetic and obliging. Forget 800; go in to actual store.

Brian of Baton Rouge, LA

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 8, 2018

Rachael out of Baton Rouge, LA was very nice and did a great job on fixing our chip on our windshield. Only took 20 mins. I would come Back to Safelite for our future repairs on our windshield and approved our insurance. They worked very nice together!!

Jason of Clovis, CA

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 6, 2018

Safelite rep, Jeff, arrived at my residence, immediately requested that I move the car to his liking and proceeded to walk around the vehicle, to include photographing the outside and inside of the vehicle. Upon questioning his intent, of roaming around and photographing the interior, Jeff responded in a rude manner and was insufficient in his reasoning. Jeff was asked to leave and Safelite was contacted. Having utilized Safelite in the past and referring several clients this correspondence was disturbing. A company dependent on its customer service should hire better communicators or provide better training. The convenience of their service does not outweigh personal respect.

Jon of Brunswick, OH

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 6, 2018

I took a day off of work to wait at home and the technician never showed or contacted me. I had to call Safelite to find out that he didn't even know about the appointment that I made two weeks prior. The customer service reps, local and national, didn't seem to care.

Kathy of Newport, NC

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 5, 2018

Safelite came out to fix 2 windshield spots. In the commercial it looks great, however that's not what we got. The spots are still there, still look the same with something like clear nail polish over them and charge is $189. Disappointed and you can't even tell anything was done. One is pencil eraser size and other is smaller.

Joe of Osseo, MN

                   Verified Reviewer                

Original review: Oct. 2, 2018

Was going on my 3rd Safelite windshield this year and they don't stand behind their product. 2 windshields were about a month old when the first one got a crack from a rock that flew up, the other cracked on its own. I called immediately, took pictures, and the representative that scheduled the appointment and mentioned that I wouldn't have to pay because it was only a month old. I get to the appointment which was just a waste of time because they refused to replace it saying that it was a not a stress crack, which it appears to be. I just left and I won't be using Safelite anymore. I will be going to small claims court to see if I can get my money back for this defective windshield. No one should have to pay full price for the 3rd windshield within 90 days of each other. Just sad that big companies can act like this.