#a tag ive had here for over a year now that i swear i will do something with one day

[carbonfiction]

Dark Desires

older, best friends dad!Logan x reader

summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..

warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.

A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voil��.

Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)

Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.

You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.

You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?

But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?

You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.

You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.

You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.

You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.

One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.

Everyone had laughed, all except you.

You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.

You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.

But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?

So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.

You: I need something.

You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.

But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.

It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.

Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.

That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.

Logan: You need to go to sleep

Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.

But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?

You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.

Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.

You: sorry. Wrong number.

And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.

Logan: Is that true sweetheart?

Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.

You: No

Just that. A simple No.

Logan: You telling a lie?

You: Not exactly

Logan: So you wanted my attention then?

You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.

And yes, you know need is a very strong word.

Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.

You: what if i want something dangerous.

You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.

A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.

But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.

Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?

And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.

You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.

Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.

You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.

You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.

Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.

Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.

She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.

Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.

And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.

The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency

But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.

Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'

You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.

Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.

Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.

You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.

Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.

Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.

Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.

You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.

Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.

Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.

You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.

Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.

So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?

when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.

Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.

You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.

You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.

His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.

But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.

His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.

He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.

And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.

"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.

Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.

"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"

Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.

"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.

"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.

"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.

Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.

"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.

"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"

With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"

You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.

"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."

And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.

It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.

Used and humiliated around logans cock.

Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.

He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."

Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm

"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.

"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."

"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"

You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.

"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"

and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .

But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow

you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.

Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.

The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.

"Kitty!"

Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.

"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"

Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.

Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."

No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.

Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.

"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"

You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."

You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.

"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"

You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.

it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.

Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.

"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"

You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.

You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.

thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333

[get-back-homeward]

Now and Then Day

This sideblog began after watching Get Back nagged and nagged at me until finally I started to look closer at context relative to the Beatles discography and suddenly started experiencing these WAIT WHAT moments every day as what I thought I knew got turned inside out. The appeal was in looking at something you knew like the back of your hand from another direction and seeing/hearing something new you hadn’t seen/heard before. But I had no idea we’d get another song to add to the mix in 2023.

I knew Now and Then day would be an experience. I thought I’d have to wait the whole day before listening. But I got lucky and found a few minutes to listen to Now and Then when it was first released this morning. And inexplicably clicked to hear the remastered Love Me Do instead. I cannot explain my brain.

I then tried to start Now and Then and noped out before 15 seconds in. Too overwhelming. Not the right time. I was too rushed and needed more space to mentally prepare for it.

I caught NPR covering the Now and Then release today on my drive home. They had a Lennon biographer (I didn’t catch the name) reviewing the song. He said the song recalls John’s more delicate tunes like Beautiful Boys (sic) and mentioned John started the song in 1970.

Say what?!

Here I was late last night trying to nail down a better date for John’s demo than “late 70s”. Meanwhile, biographers are just here on national public radio pushing lies. Did he have ChatGPT write his comments?

Oh yeah, they also said it was created with AI no qualifier.🤦‍♀️

They played a few snippets of the song including one new piece not in the doc but refrained from playing it in full. It was mostly wrong Beatles facts all segment.

Trying the song a second time hours later, I got through it in one piece but was feeling abit 🥴 about it as a song itself. Having just listened to the original demo was probably a mistake, and I could hear all the seams and feeling the Frankenstein song effect.

Third attempt sounded more together, with the seams not quite as noticeable. I was prepared for the changes, the layering bits from other songs, and noted highlights of the instrumentals: the strings, George’s guitar bits, and Ringo’s flourishes. I love Paul coming through on the future tense certainty of “I will love you” (is that I Will?). Ringo’s shimmering effect choice (is it tams?) is such an entrancing closer. Giles’ score and Beatles recycled bits do mend the seams well once I stop thinking about them too much.

On fourth listen, my biggest notes are questioning why Paul’s harmony with John isn’t more distinct. He shows a lot of restraint here but maybe too much? Did Get Back get to him in other ways than the most obvious? Is he just self-conscious about his own voice? Or is it the limitation of the tech when it comes to harmony mixing?

The strings were what I was most worried about, but their entrance at the 1:15 mark really kicks it up a notch to transition into the singalong. Other standouts are 1:40 with George’s flourish and 2:29 peak with the guitar solo.

Lyrically, it’s the conditional and if I make it through it’s all because of you that haunts in layers of meaning both grim and cathartic that reverberate through time and space.

If John makes it through emotionally to 1980 and has a comeback? Congrats, bud you did it. But he’s stopped physically through no fault of his own. There’s the obvious mourning of that lost potential even 40 years later.

If this song this voice this message of John’s makes it through to 2023 and reaches the public? Well, success there, Paul’s tenacity saw it through with help from many friends. John’s voice and song lives on through Paul’s wish to conjure him by his side. On the Day of the Dead no less. I was reminded of the concept of tulpas today and was knocked back on my heels by the thought.

If John as an artist and Beatles as a band make it through so fans are still listening in 2023? This doubles as a bit of a fan love letter, and thank you for 60 years. Released on the day Beatlemania first appeared in black and white.

But then there’s also a reflector on this. Some original Beatles fans have aged with Paul and Ringo and others have not and aren’t here to share this like John and George. There’s grief and mourning from those still here about those lost, and the song acts as a catharsis. A kind of thank you to the band for being there for fans in good times and bad. The symbiosis of fame between a band and its fans across the decades.

It’s a lot.

I spent some time looking at the youtube comments on the song. Some original fans but many second and even third generation fans. And quite a few stories about a loved one who loved the band and recently passed away like this one:

And this:

But also in there are stories of catharsis and healing.

And many memories of the joy that Beatles music has brought to people’s lives. We all have these stories of how their songs weave into our own life. But it’s the joy that I keep coming back to as the secret sauce to the band’s earliest days. I often think of those early songs more in terms of feeling then anything, and it starts with the first single.

I love the Love Me Do remastering. That harmonica sounds so crisp. The bluegrassy harmonies have never sounded better. The ones on ple-ee-ee-ease still give me chills. Ringo’s drums moved forward in the mix to appreciate that driving beat just a bit more. I can hear the bass too. I can’t wait to hear what the other early Red album tracks sound like.

But next to Now and Then, I’m also looking at the lyrics like I never did before. Why give it another glance? Written by a 16 year old kid, it always sounded a bit juvenile and simple. But suddenly next to Now and Then, there’s a weight to it I never heard before.

Love, love me do

You know I love you

I’ll always be true

So please, love me do

It sounds like a promise. Now and Then is fulfillment of that always. It’s no longer just the whim of a kid. But rather the beginning of 7 decade devotional: To John, to the band, to fans, and reflected back again. The love is reciprocal from all sides.

How’s that for a WAIT WHAT moment? Paul turning the least likely song inside out and backwards. And he didn’t even add a lyrical middle eight.

[peterparkersnose]

Folded

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: attack description, clicker attack, nightmares, anxiety, wound description, angst, denial of feelings, alcohol mentioned, swearing, mentions and descriptions of gun use, near death experience (if u can’t handle the game don’t read)

HAPPY LAST OF US DAY!!!

a/n ive played tlou 3x and tlou2 2x (going through my second round rn) so shut up pls i dont want any of the ‘you only like joel bc hes pedro’ fr come on ive been playing this game since i was 12. (i’m not like other girls 🥵) jackson joel just does something to me mmmm. wrote this nov 18 ‘22 saved for today

Don’t forget 9PM EST on HBO Max

summary Y/N gets attacked by a clicker during an intense time with Joel

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read time: 12 mins 28 seconds

You could feel the air escaping your lungs at a dangerous rate. The rifle at your side slammed against your thigh as you kept running. The thick forest was just as you remembered it; wet, cold, and dark.

You were outnumbered. Mostly runners, but you spotted a few clickers. The brush on the forest floor wasn’t helping. Your heavy breathing and the sloshing of your boots against the snowy ground were making too much noise.

Where the fuck was Ellie?

3 bullets. Rifle was empty, spent that on some sharp shooting up the hill on some runners you and Ellie found in the town. How stupid were you? Those were an easy kill with a knife. But your childish games on who could get the best headshot left you empty.

Your heart dropped as the rock formation appeared. It was too high. It covered the forest like the earth split into two. That is when you came to terms, and you had to come to it quickly.

You were going to die.

Soon enough, the first runner appeared. Easy kill. One down, maybe 7 to go?

Where the fuck was Ellie?

The next one came. Two down. Three at a time now? A fucking clicker followed them? You wished the brush was tall enough to hide in.

It was useless fighting off three runners at a time with a clicker on their heels. This was it. Death.

The stone wall was cool against your backside. You hugged your knees to your chest as you pulled out your handgun.

At least the clicker would have a good meal.

Shot- one down. Shot- another. The clicker sped up. Shot, wounded but not dead. Quick slice with the knife. Dead.

The shrieking screams of the clicker engulfed your senses as the monster came running at you. It’s flailing arms we’re the last thing you were prepared to see.

You felt the hands on your shoulder. Dead hands of a monster, unspeakable to most. The hands grabbed your shoulders, but no bite came.

Just blinding white noise and a splatter on your face.

You had convinced yourself you were dead. You would never see anyone again. You had died the same death as your father years prior. The death that left you alone.

“Dad?” you managed to mutter out.

The white noise turned into ringing as two hands held your shoulder and shook you.

“Y/N? Y/N please, are you okay?”

Ellie.

“Maria I found her! Here!”

Cloth material wiped over your eyes and they opened. Ellie, splattered with blood stood in front of you with the most panicked look you had ever seen on the girls face.

“Your okay!” she yelled at you, wrapping her arms around you.

Sitting besides you two was the headless clicker that should have killed you.

***

You should be dead. Get this horrible life over with. Dead with your father, with the mother you never knew. Living a life without this disease, these creatures. Free of pain.

When you woke up in the medical wing you were pretty sure almost the whole town was there. You felt like an item on display at a museum. Looking over all the eyes, you most definitely were not searching for his. The whole reason you volunteered to go out with Ellie that day instead of Dina. And of course, he was not there. Why would he be?

“She’s awake!” someone yelled from the crowd. Every eye in the room seemed to fall on you at once. The nurse pushed past the group of people and went to your side.

“For heavens sake! Get out!” the nurse yelled to the group of onlookers. “Give her some goddamn space.” you heard from the crowd as people started to walk towards the exit.

Everyone wanted a look at the girl who survived a clicker attack.

“Hey,” she said, slowly approaching you and sitting on the chair next to your bed. “Ellie!” you exclaimed, embracing the girl tightly. “What happened?” you asked Ellie, releasing your grip on her and settling back into the bed.

The bond had been there since the day you met her. You always remember the look of the scared little girl on the back of Joel’s horse when they first entered Jackson. The bond you two had helped her grow into the person she is now. Ellie had always described you as an older sister. But Ellie was always there for you, and you for her. She was your best friend, platonic soulmate. And a damn good shot.

“I killed it,” she said bluntly. “I-I came at the right time it was about to bite you and- you should have seen it Y/N my shotgun did a number on that thing.”

“A-am I infected?” you asked, looking down at your body for the first time. Your tank top was still on, your jacket was missing. Your jeans were covered in dry blood and smelt of pine needles.

“It’s been three days. You got some pretty nasty scratches though. Sick looking if you ask me. Scars of a warrior.” she added, referring to her tattoo.

And that’s when you saw them. The claw marks were sewn shut on your left shoulder. Your eyes widened as you began to panic. You began to squirm and the pain set in.

“Hey, hey calm down. She took care of you. Best nurse in town, I made sure.” Ellie said, grabbing your good shoulder and stroking your arm to calm you down.

“The doctors said if your vitals stay stable for the next few hours you can go home. Dina and I cleaned up the place for you,” Ellie smiled, stroking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What have people been saying?” you asked, holding her hand tightly in yours. “That your a hero. You cleared out that building and we found a stash of food that’s going to last for… well, probably a good year. That’s amazing Y/N! They found baby formula for JJ- tons of it. You were right it was the old warehouse.”

A small smile rose to your lips but Ellie could tell what you really wanted to hear about.

What Joel had been saying.

And Joel hasn’t said much. Tommy had told him a brief description in passing of what happened when it was happening. He figured you were dead when they sent out a rescue wagon for you. He even watched as Maria’s horse lead in your body. Ellie was sitting with you in her arms screaming for a nurse, your whole left arm was covered in blood. What was visible of your face was white as a sheet and you weren’t moving. Joel had to silently give up the inkling of what could have been. Hell, you were the first girl who he even considered after his divorce over thirty years ago. It had to end one day and he had to silently agree with it.

“I don’t…” Ellie began, following with a sigh. “Y/N, don’t get yourself worked up over it. It’s not worth it.” Ellie began, knowing her friend too well. “Did he even come and see me?” you asked, looking to Ellie’s eyes. She couldn’t look into yours. She closed her eyes for a quick moment and shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

“Am I a fool?” you asked her. “I’m not sure,” she replied, weary.

The whole reason you went with her instead of Dina was because of Joel. You most definitely could not face him that day after the previous night.

He had knocked on your door a little after nine. He noticed a change in your demeanor today when he came in the room while teaching the some of the kids how to shoot. He wanted to make sure you were okay. Joel felt like he had some responsibility over you to make sure you were always okay because of what happened.

Joel was the one who was with your father when he died.

Sure, he was older than you. You weren’t sure exactly, but he was younger than your father by many years. The attraction from your end started when you saw him drunk off his ass during a celebration dancing with Tommy in the bar. It was the most unconventionally attractive thing, but it flipped some switch in you. When your dad died he taught you how to perfect your aim and kill efficiently. Never crossing any line because you were his dead friend’s daughter. And you were so close to Ellie. Ellie wasn’t too fond of your crush that you confided in her, but she grew to love the idea. Her family.

He came and visited you a little after nine. You were about to slip into bed before you heard the knock on your door. The night was cold and your pajama pants and thin tank top was not cutting it. You invited him inside. He had brought you a tiny gift to lift your mood; a bottle of gin. Your favorite. And you two drank at least half of that bottle of gin. You talked about everything from your father’s death to the time Tommy accidentally washed his clothes with Maria’s pink bra and still has an abundance of pink clothing to this day. The gin was most definitely speaking when you told him how you felt.

And he left.

“Let it go for now- okay? We’re gonna get you out of here and back home.” Ellie reassured you. Nodding your head, you fell back into the cold bed and closed your eyes just wishing it could all go away.

-

Home was empty as it could be. The bottle of gin sat on your coffee table. Your bed was made for the first time in years. Your work station was organized and all of your pens and art supplies were cleaned. You had remembered when Joel gave you those pens, he found them one day and thought of you. Your rifles now hung on your wall. Definitely was Dina’s idea, but you liked it. A tiny gift wrapped in a beige paper with a tiny bit of twine around it sat under your newly mounted rifles.

“Woo hoo. Christmas.” you said to yourself sarcastically. Kneeling down, you opened the package.

Bullets.

For safe keeping, ~Maria

Of course it was from Maria. She always played the mother you never had when she wanted to.

The immense feeling of sleep hit you like a brick wall. I guess being attacked by a clicker and living was a strenuous activity. All you wanted now to do was sleep. Unmaking the nicely folded sheets, you melted back into your bed. The sun was setting in your window and the horses were coming in for the day. You could hear them trotting past your window. You wondered if Joel was just feet away. It was what now… Thursday? You couldn’t remember if he still did the Thursday shift or if he switched with someone else. Who cares, sleep was creeping up slowly and the thought of Joel set you out cold.

The forest was blacker than usual. Without a doubt, you recognized where you were. Running again. All you seemed to do was run now these days. Taking a brief look back while you ran through the forest, you stopped as you realized a whole hoard of clickers were just at your heels. You didn’t have time to react. They were on you ripping your flesh off your body. The dream never seemed to end. You felt each bite and tear of your flesh until-

“Y/N!” Maria screamed, shaking you awake and still being mindful of your wound. “Fuck!” you screamed, sobbing into her arms. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” you continued, squirming in bed as she held you.

Your door was wide open and it was now pitch black out. The screams alerted security, and they called for a search of the town. Tommy quickly found the source of the screams and sent Maria in.

Standing outside your door was Tommy, peering in on the sight of his wife with you.

“Gather people. She needs to be watched.” Maria commanded Tommy as she held your shaking body. Too many people had left their homes now to look at the scene and disrupted the peaceful night.

-

Ellie sat with your head in her lap, slowly stroking your hair trying to get you to fall asleep. “Don’t worry. Nobody in this town will let anything happen to you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The whole previous night you didn’t sleep. You stared at your wall and just thought. And that whole day you delved yourself in drawings you hadn’t finished or poems you had the inspiration for. Took a shower. You looked through your closet and picked out a fresh outfit. You tried all the little things that usually worked on your old self, but your old self was gone.

That bottle of gin sat on your coffee table and haunted you throughout the day as well. You didn’t have the heart to throw it away, or the mindset to drink it. So there it sat. Pitiful.

You were at a loss for words. No words could describe the immense amount of pain re living that memory caused last night.

Ellie began to hum a tune. It was sweet and reminded you of something innocent. Your eyes began to get heavy. “You ready?” she asked, fluffing up your pillow. Reluctantly, you shook your head yes.

The absolute end was there and tiredness finally seeped in. Distraught sleep left and peaceful sleep took its place.

Ellie dimmed your lamp and smoothed the covers on your bed. It reminded you of the time you took care of Ellie years ago when she was sick. “Sweet dreams,” she said, giving your forehead a brief kiss.

Mumbling was heard outside your door, but you didn’t care.

The field was beautiful. Finally, peace. The flowers stemmed beautifully and the sun shown down on your face. Your hands ran through the fresh green grass. Laying in the rays, you suddenly felt the field get smaller. Sitting up, you realized the sun had disappeared and the field was getting smaller and smaller by the second. The sudden edge of a forest was getting closer and closer. And then with one blink you were back. The forest erected around you. You were back.

“No, no…” he heard from your house. Joel’s interest peaked from the grounds left in his coffee mug to the silent struggles in your bedroom. He lifted himself off your porch chair and looked through your window. You were writhing in bed.

“Ellie!” you let out the first yell. It was so loud that it startled Joel to his core and began a flight of panic. Joel didn’t hesitate to burst your door open. “Ellie don’t leave!” you yelled again.

“Hey,” he said softly, patting your shoulder. A loud groan of pain came from your lips. Joel’s heart sank as the feelings on guilt he felt for letting you go on patrol that day set in once again.

“Y/N!” he whisper yelled, yanking your body over to face him. Your eyes shot open. Ripped from the dream into another one.

You looked him up and down. This wasn’t real. It was another dream. Tears welled up in your eyes as you shut them tight, praying you would wake up somewhere else.

“It was a bad dream,” he whispered, resting his hand on your thigh. His thumb patiently rubbed your thigh as your breathing sped up. Your legs matched up perfectly, knees facing him. Your face was buried in your hands that were now grasping at your eyes.

“Stop it,” Joel hissed, grabbing your manic hands tightly. “This isn’t real,” you cried out, sobs following it.

His heart seemed to break into a million pieces when you started to full on cry. The last time he dealt with a crying girl it was Ellie. Wait- no, maybe it was Sarah. He honestly wasn’t sure, but it was most definitely years ago.

“Everything is alright. I know how it is. I-I didn’t sleep for a few days after my first clicker encounter. Those things are nasty fuckers.” he said, his hand returning to your thigh trying to soothe you. He was clueless on what he was supposed to do.

At this point, you realized you weren’t dreaming. He was here. His hand was on your thigh. He was sitting on your bed. You were in a tank top that cut a little too low for your liking.

Your teary eyes looked up and met his. He hadn’t moved his gaze off of your face. He gave you a soft reassuring smile.

Joel cursed himself for letting his feelings creep back in. This was wrong anyways, he felt sick any time he thought about you. The pit of his stomach couldn’t handle it much more, he had pretty much forgotten about you (as much as he would like to admit). But when Tommy assigned him second watch of you that night, he just knew it had trouble written all over it.

“Go back to sleep now. Pretty girls need their beauty sleep.” he said, instantly regretting it.

That line worked on Sarah, but in a whole different way with a much different meaning. He wanted to suck back in the words as fast as he said them.

Letting a tense breathe go, he steadied himself on your bed frame and made his way to the door.

He had made his way to the door as you spoke.

“Joel?”

His hand stopped his motion as it rested on the top of your door frame.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning around.

“W-will you stay? Just for a little bit.” you said, stuttering as you realized how large his body was compared to your door.

He paused. “I suppose.”

You moved your legs so he would have enough room to sit next to you. You heard his knee crack as he sat down on the low rise bed. His legs sat upward as he leant a hand behind your legs to steady himself.

“I’m sorry.” you said. It had to be said, what better time than now? “I don’t want to hear your apologies.” he huffed. “It was inappropriate.” you spit out again. “No- Y/N, stop. Please.” he asked. “You need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep. Every time I sleep I go… back there. I can’t.” you whimpered. He sighed, groaning and wiping his brow.

“What would you like me to do about it? I can’t do anything.”

“Stay.”

Joel was left confused on how your calmness met his angry tone. He knew you well, he was surprised you weren’t screaming in his face. You didn’t take shit. You were being patient for once in your life.

Oh, how you’ve changed since the attack.

“I’m here. What more do you want from me?” he asked. His tone had extra edge of anger to it that was fueled with a faint passion.

In the darkness, you reached for his hand. It was coarse and dry, with many various scars and callouses you could feel just with a slight touch. He instinctively pulled back a bit, but gave in within the second. Wrapping your fingers with his, you places his hand back on your thigh.

“Y/N I-”

“The thing you were doing before on my leg. It was nice.”

“Oh,” he said, defeating the original thought from his head. His thumb began slowly moving in circles once again.

You were showing him what you needed.

He watched as your sad face closed your eyes and sighed. You felt safe for the first time in days.

Joel felt the pit in his stomach widen and fully consume him. The girl who practically raised Ellie from when she arrived; his dead friend’s daughter; one of the best damn killers in all of Jackson; Y/N. God, he was in so much trouble with his morals.

“I’m too far deep in this shit,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

Your eyes fluttered open to see him. “What?” you asked.

“I can’t…” he said, beginning to shake his knee up and down. “What?” repeated yourself in a confused tone.

His strong body swept over yours. He grabbed your shoulder ever so softly and perched you in his arms. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.

No initiative had to be made besides the movement of your lips against his. Your hand wrapped itself in his hair, playing softly as he held your back strongly. A slight moan came from his lips that he instantly regretted when you accidentally tugged ever so slightly on his graying strands of hair. For the split second that you two separated gasping for air, he pulled you tighter.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been fighting this,” he whispered on your lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you sighed, staring back at his scruffy face.

Joel came back to his senses. He felt different. He could never go back to the same person he was a minute ago. His world revolved around something new. No more obsessing over patrol and how to appease Tommy. No more worrying over how Ellie could handle herself. No more worrying about his aching joints and the fear of getting older. Something new became the center of his universe. He had folded.

The girl laying in his arms who now rested her head against his chest.

“You really need sleep darlin’,” he sighed. You sighed in resistance.

“You want me to stay?” he asked, looking down at your exhausted face.

“Please.”

You moved over in your bed as he made himself comfortable. Joel never realized how much larger he was than you until he slept with you in his arms.

You layed on his chest as one arm wrapped around your shoulders. His hand rested comfortably on your shoulder.

“Thank you.” you whispered. He placed a small kiss on your head. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, making yourself more comfortable in his embrace. The only sound in the room was your soft breathing.

“Go to sleep now. Your safe with me, my sweet girl.”

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @jmillerswife

[kumezyzo]

i was rewatching the dream team all stars MCC and was thinking about streamer!reader cause im actually sick in the head :) so now everyone else has to deal with it 😌 so, as much as i love bad, reader does happen to be an honourary Dream Team member according to bf!sapnap.....

i like to think during this time (Nov. 2021) reader and sapnap are well into their talking stage and like, reallyyyy close to dating (they prolly start dating two weeks after this stream of sum). so this is technically crush!sapnap [so cutee]

also just bsf!george and dream moments cause why not (and cause i need some more fluff to feel gud)

lots of swearing (particularly fbombs lol)

so enjoy.... or dont lol :) m.list

crush!sapnap who cant help but giggle when you text him about the 'serpnerp and gerge' bit he did before the event started. when you ask about the fake kisses they gave eachother, he would be tempted to text you back with "i could give you real ones if you want" but refrains from it.

crush!sapnap who secretly had your stream pulled up on the side just so he could see your face as you hyped yourself up for the event.

if youre faceless, he'd just want to listen to you and hear the way you pause to read a text he sends you. he'd feel so cocky if you happened to quietly giggle at something you he sent you.

crush!sapnap who forgets youre on the call for a moment when he makes comments about needing to take a shit...

"if i really wanted to, i could insta-shit"

"ew wtf 😭"

"i actually forgot you were here for a moment, my bad" (he would be blushing so hard)

crush!sapnap who hypes you up so much during parkour tag (and makes sure youre not getting tagged) when youre the last person to be tagged

bsf!george who also hypes tf out of you when youre tagging people. he gets so loud that you have to tell him to stfu at times

crush!sapnap who subconsciously tries to protect you during the first round of sky battle until you call him out for it

"sapnap, dont worry about me! just try to get the other fucking teams. holy fuck..."

"y/n is getting toxic~"

"george shut the fuck up."

(it was mostly cause dream was getting heated at you but dw sap gets it 😌)

bsf!dream who blames you for a block placement glitch during sky battle

"Y/N!"

"WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?!"

it led to a strange disagreement about where you were standing before crush!sapnap interjected and told you guys to leave it be. (we stan)

crush!sapnap who feels his heart flutter when you giggle about heated dream was getting over you standing on a rail in grid runners.

bsf!george who gets very hyped when you dont mute yourself during ace race.

"y/n are you muting yourself?"

"nope, are you?"

"LETS GOOO! ITS JUST Y/N AND GOGY"

"Lets go!!!!...... but shut the fuck up a little"

crush!sapnap who tries to gather your materials whenever you need them during buildmart and ultimately pisses off dream when he doesnt bring back what people need.

"Sapnap, how the fuck are you leaving but not bringing back fucking anything we actually need!?!?"

"okay! okay, what do you need?!"

bsf!dream who gets wayyyy too heated at you during battle box.

"y/n just use the fucking bow!"

"i am you dumb fuck!"

"oh my-"

crush!sapnap who gets annoyed too, but tries to not direct it towards you.

"george if theyre building to middle, block them!"

"y/n is supposed to be covering me!"

"they are, so pull your weight!"

bsf!dream who gets yelled at by his chat for yelling at you.

'say sorry to y/n'

"what? you know what, fuck y/n! ive known them for over 5 years, im not saying sorry!"

"good! i dont want your apology anyway! we are no longer friends!"

"good!"

(literal toddlers lol)

crush!sapnap who says a small 'hi' when he passes by you in sands of time. even if youre in the same call. and have been for 2 1/2 hours.

dteam who just lets you do youre own thing in the last to games of the event (sands of time & tgttos).

"i actually havent hear y/n speak in like five minutes," george said with an impressed smile. "i thought they just left the call for a moment, ha."

"me too for a second-"

"both of you shut the fuck up, im tired and tryna get this over with."

"PFFFT-"

bsf!george who could help but cackle when you yell at him during dodgebolt.

"george if you dont stop talking about the arrow, i will fly to london and shove it so far up your ass-"

crush!sapnap who calls you after both of you end your streams to talk about how you feel after the event.

"how are you doing, you seemed..."

"angry? annoyed?"

"tired..."

crush!sapnap talks with you until either one of you has to hang up. you feel like youre back in highschool talking to your crush for hours on end.

ngl, i dunno how i feel about this one. it might be too much tbh but im tired asf writing this and dont wanna change much. and i got a little carried away having fun writing it....sorry... -Nony

[hamburgerslippers]

haiiiiiii belove will u tell me about vix and brutus.. .. 👉👈... whats their relationship like, how'd they meet, what do they see eye to eye on or beef over,, would they kill each other if given the chance or kill for each other? or both? or something in between? whats their DEAL <3

Hello my darling, thank you for this question. biting you with love. I must preface this by saying: I killed brutus and deconstructed their character. I didn't like how they were so they aren't that anymore. A lot changed by i haven't really shared much about them 

SO all you need to know is that Brutus is now called Regen post rebirth. Make sense? Okay good. Mwah. They are The Worstest.

Vix and Regen (nee Brutus) don't know eachother, not anymore. Regen has chaned from the child Vix met all those years ago. They're so much louder, not afraid to bare their teeth and growl when pushed, and even less afraid to bare them in joy.

Vix remembers them as Essi, a quiet teen with blue hair, a soft voice, and scared eyes she met in that crappy gun store in Dogtown.

The only thing they see eye to eye on is wanting to get Silverhand out of Vix's head, and its not even for the same reasons.

Vix would never kill for Regen, its not in her nature to do things for others. She couldn't kill for them when they were Essi, their mangled mech being dragged away with them inside, so why would she be able to kill for the metamorphosis of her greatest failure? She also wouldn't kill Regen...because in a way she still cares for them. Deeply.

Regen on the other hand would take Vix apart piece by piece if their handler asked them to. They wouldn't even feel anything. Theres a void in their mind in Vix's place, a black hole that sucks up all the goodness in them when they cast eyes upon her.

But there is. love there. somewhere. between them. Time is not linear within the heart, and neither is pain. They are intermingled and swirling. SCREAMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

Listen, there is a lot of complexity to their relationship that I don't think comes across the way it is in the text without ACTUALLY reading TWWTSS and its Prologue  "Here Here Here" (im working on it i swear i swear i swear ive changed things and had to restart a whole section).

Please feel free to ask questions cuz i feel like this all just looks like the ramblings of someone who's lost their marbles.

tagging mootses cuz blinky blink: @certified-anakinfucker @purgetrooperfox @totentnz @springcatalyst @rottent33th @slaasherslut (IF YOU DONT WANT TO BE TAGGED AGAIN PLEASE LMK SORRY LOVE YOU)

[spidermanifested]

today i went to go see transformers one, And. i feel somewhat bad about this because every single one of my transformers friends seemed to love it. however i was not super impressed

which, if you liked it im glad you had fun & feel free to chalk some of my gripes up to me being pretentious about movies. but if you want to know my thoughts in more detail im putting them under a cut because a) spoilers and b) lot of words

so number one, the main thing, is that while it didnt follow the formula Exactly (orion was the one gunning to rebel from the get-go while megatron was initially really wary about stepping out of line) its still one of those "villain revolts against a corrupt system but goes TOO FAR" stories. which, yes thats what megatrons backstory usually is. yes i expected this going in

But did they have to code him as black via voice actor and pit him against a saintly nonviolent counterpart voiced by fucking chris hemsworth .

like this is the third time in the past couple years ive watched a new thing and everyones gushing over it and im like oh cool and i watch it, and the villain is a black coded (nonhuman!!) guy whos Too Mad about systemic injustice and has to be stopped by the noble liberal pacifists. it happened in live action one piece it happened in the tmnt movie and it has happened once again in transformers one!!! and EVERY single time i look through the tags to see if anyones talking about it and guess what. They are not

i cannot take even remotely seriously the in universe pearl clutching about megatron killing one (1) super evil guy. in general, sure, but mainly after watching bumblebee literally cut people into little pieces with knives on screen??????!!¿like im sorry but you cant act like megatron would be doing some horrible bad irredeemable thing by assassinating a corrupt head of state and then say okay 🤗 heres my new bffsie the knife murderer. Be real with me right now

aside from this i simply found the script to be extremely repetitive simplistic and marvelbrained. too much cheap shoehorned 2013-youtube-parody-grade humor. to which you the reader might turn to me and say manfred, you sound like a snob and the movie is for kids! the dialogue has to be simple or kids wont know whats going on. And to which i say first of all, it is my god given right to be a snob, and second of all this movie has swears in it such as hell and damn and badass, the latter of which is repeated upwards of thrice in a joke that gets less and less funny every time, and i think that MAYBE any child who is old enough to hear curse words, is old enough to understand SUBTEXT

at least it looked nice, animation was good, set design was crazy good. the little cyber deers with the light up antlers were genius, whoever came up with those was bringing their whole pussy to work. still dont like that they gave the robots human lips. optimus prime i am not going to kiss you put tjose things away

[nerice]

holding out hands. do you want to talk about any oc couples you have. or polycules or situationships or anything of that ilk.

ask answer time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! at long last. linking my oc page at the top bc i will throw out some names w/ varying context :3

also prefacing this by saying that the ultimate oc ship of all time is qs (queenshipping) aka jumie/reina alas i talk abt them all the fkcin time so let's gearshift and do smth else for once ! let me introduce you 2

[the polycule] tm. relationship for the ages, mostly bc it takes an age to reach its final form lol. details under the cut >>>

noah/garvith

dragon god x serpent deity in all their beastly glory (this is before noah acquires a human form) during the war, they spend most of their off-duty time curled into ridiculous shapes having deep talks abt nothing and everything. goes bad when garvith flees a crucial battle, leaving reina to die & noah swears 2 put him 2 death over this act of cowardice. garvith spends the next century in hiding until he meets avery nd takes refuge in her body; which is all good and well until noah runs into avery during an unrelated mission and can't keep his eyes off her for. some reason >:) enter:

noah(avery?)garvith, messy tag here!

avery is ur average angry teen caught up in the middle of the fallout of whatever fucking romance those two had going on. esp bc noah+garvith, now both in human bodies (noah's held together by duct tape nd garvith thru avery) ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PHYSICAL DESIRE AS IT TURNS OUT nd avery (aro) sits in the crossfire like????? What!! Is Going On when she starts blushing like a schoolgirl over noah lmfao. sorry prince. usually she nd garvith are amiable w/ their body sharing but garvith does sleepwalk pilot her a few times to steal kisses from noah who is victim 2 his bad vein of hypocrisy regarding duty vs. desire lol. all of this ends winningly ofc when he stabs avery/garvith mid-kiss. amazing, everybody was hurt in the process of making this joint. let's take a detour

devon

local wolf guy who has fuckall 2 do with anyones god business. simply falls in love at first bite (bitten) with avery, who has so many other problems at that point, including inheriting a thousand years worth of memories from garvith & going thru a little ego death bc she cannot cope with the grief of it all. might selfishly have kissed devon at one point in an attempt to be someone she's not which cements his crush & dooms them all to drag out this stupid little charade into another book, where we get to >

noah/devon

who start out on the worst terms (romantic rivals for avery/garvith. who is simply Done With It on both ends f) but in the little space of reefair where avery has dropped off the map completely, noah+devon end up living in the same house & get pretty buddy buddy. devon is the first person noah trusts with the secret that he is a god, and devon has a phd in being a whore instead of going 2 therapy so they have a good time, as we say on this main blog where content restrictions apply. :)

anwy let's bring this baby home. ive talked abt court of the dragon before but the tldr is; noah dukes it out with his vengeful other ex that until now ive omitted. which is a shame bc damia is my fav oc, but the endgame is this:

noah+damia end up in a dual body consciousness situation a la pandora hearts, with one body stuck at the bottom of the ocean in dead world space & the other able to move freely, with the two of them having 2 play real nicey with each other taking turns who controls which body. by then avery has sort of rejoined the polycule (when she's not out adventuring across verses w/ lucie) but in an all members present scenario u get:

the polycule [tm]

avery, more or less serpent at times, trading affection & bite marks w noah/devon except like. sometimes noah is damia and damia doesn't rly fuck with the polycule situation bc he hates everyone involved but also loves to fuck with the polycule bc he is a goddamn bastard. i don't know what's going on here either but it's extremely funny send tweet

((((((bonus. ask jumie how she feels about her son sometimes giving damia head by association LOL)))))))))9 revolutionary vectors of psychological dmg here

[rosenongrata]

solitary solidarity – iv

Summary: A selection of writings that explore the early days of the odd relationship between Doctor Veritas Ratio and Missus Kagome Ikeda.

A/N: so i actually finished this last night, but just posting it now cuz i may have promptly fallen asleep once i was done lol

c.w/s: varies on what part, but i'll make sure to mark each addition with the proper tags in the a/n. OC-insert. c.ws for chapter: im actually not sure how to put this, but implications to abuse ig?? nothing is explicitly mentioned but it's possible to tell shits wrong between Kagome and her husband (also he calls her a whore once). soft Ratio hours (again). Kagome dissociates pretty hard for half of the chapter

w.c: ~1.4k

The two esteemed scholars had been chatting during lunch today – while Dr. Ratio prefers eating by himself in the sweet, sweet privacy of his office; he chose to accommodate Kagome’s wishes to be in the cafeteria instead for today. He knows well that she’s not the most sociable, so her eagerness to be in the populated cafeteria instead of her office strikes him as odd.

At least, that’s what he was thinking prior to a man with a head of black hair and a pair of tired brown eyes showing up – he even has a disgustingly sweet smile plastered on his face while he stands behind her. When the man brushes his fingers along Kagome’s shoulder, she nearly snaps her lacquered wood chopsticks in half.

“Hey, dear,” He says lightly, “I decided to visit you at your office today! It sure is nice here.” He grasps her shoulder tenderly, but that’s what makes Kagome’s skin crawl.

“Good afternoon, Shoto,” Kagome quickly composes herself, the life and color draining from her expression and eyes – Dr. Ratio didn’t expect to see her eyes to somehow grow even more lifeless.

“Ah, so this is…” The doctor’s eyes flick up and down Shoto’s figure, “…your husband.” Dr. Ratio says, his arms firmly crossed – looking unamused as he always does.

Shoto’s smile cracks a little from irritation, but is swiftly repaired within moments.

“This must be your…friend, right?” Shoto asks his lovely wife.

“…Yes, I’m her friend.” Dr. Ratio answers for her – he can see her inattention to her surroundings written all over her features. It’s a half-lie, but he deems it necessary for his plan to get her husband out of here – away from her. The other day with her – when she had punched him in the face – was all he needed to know about this man.

“Anyway,” Shoto turns his attention back onto Kagome, and the doctor swears he can see her curl a little bit away from her husband, “I got you a gift, dear! I’m sure you’ll love it. Here,” He pulls out a thin rectangular black box before opening it, revealing a pair of black gloves, “New gloves!”

“Oh, uhm… Th-thank you, Shoto…” She shakily sets her chopsticks down, staring down at the brand-new gloves before her.

(…He’s love-bombing her. Why am I not surprised…) Dr. Ratio ponders, eyes narrowing at the shorter man.

“C’mon, put them on. They’re very soft!” Shoto pressures.

“But… Shoto, you know that—” Kagome grimaces slightly, refusing to meet her partner’s eyes that grow with impatient anger.

People in the cafeteria begin watching more intently – gossiping amongst themselves. Not even so-called geniuses are immune to the flavorful taste of brewing drama. And then Shoto grabs her wrist, ready to pluck off her old gloves – the ones that have been patched over and over again, sewn back together numerous times over the years.

“Here, I’ll help you!” He chirps, his voice so fake it’s painful – to the doctor, at least.

Dr. Ratio rolls his dichromatic eyes before standing up abruptly – Kagome fully expects him to leave, she wouldn’t blame him for it, either. But, instead, the scholar grabs the other man’s wrist with a near death grip – leaving a burn ache in Shoto.

“You need to leave.” He mutters to the smaller man, glaring down at him, “You’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time.” If there’s one thing Dr. Ratio is – without a doubt – it’s fearless. “Especially Kagome’s.” He grumbles.

“What’s it to you?” Shoto bites back with a nasty grin, but the stronger man can feel him tremble with fear in his grasp.

“To be frank, it’s none of your business – nor is it any of your business to be pestering Kagome, me, and the rest of the Guild.”

“Very funny. Anyway,” Shoto pushes the doctor off with some ease, but only because Dr. Ratio allowed him to – he’s waiting for the husband to make another mistake, “We’re going, Kagome. We have business to attend to…away from these lovely people.” He throws a glaring glance at the opposing man before grabbing Kagome’s arm and roughly tugging her up to her feet.

“…That’s your last mistake, Shoto.” Dr. Ratio huffs, “I can either call security or…you can leave Kagome behind – here in the Guild.”

Weighing his options, Shoto scoffs at him and releases his wife’s now tender arm, “Fine, then. I’ll leave…” His voice lowers to a dark whisper, “She’s a good for nothing whore, anyway.” He glares into her unfocused eyes, “Look at her… She can’t even make a peep – tsk.” He rolls his eyes before departing.

Dr. Ratio says nothing to him, instead wrapping one arm around Kagome’s drooping shoulders as a way of keeping her upright. When he glances at the remaining people in the cafeteria, he notices they’re still talking with each other about Aeons knows what – most likely that little scene, he wagers.

“…Can you hear me, Kagome?” He whispers to her, and she fails to respond – her expression completely despondent and her eyes absent of awareness. “I will take that as a no.” He sighs.

He quickly cleans up her lunch materials, putting her bento box back together before leading her out of the cafeteria – anywhere that’s quiet and isolated will have to do. And he knows the perfect place – his office in the medical quarters.

They walk there, and each time she stumbles on her weakened legs, he catches her without too much thought about it. He assists her the whole way there – regardless of how slow she walks and no matter how many times she stumbles. And if he ends up having to carry her, he’ll do that, too.

Arriving in his office, Dr. Ratio helps Kagome settle down on the sofa in the quaint room before taking a seat at his desk. He swivels his chair in her direction – folding one leg over the other and resting his hands on his raised knee, they intertwine to form an overall scrutinizing posture.

Her eyes flutter shut, covering her lifeless stare that had been glued to the wall moments ago. It takes many minutes of pure silence – including the doctor removing his gaze from her, instead staring at the floor – before she can form words, let alone a single sound.

“Mmh…” She groans, pressing two fingers to her now-aching forehead – he can immediately tell it’s a tension headache that shoots through her skull.

Yet his offer for medication goes unheard for several moments as she rubs her head. When her mind finally processes that someone was speaking to her moments ago, her eyes shoot open and she finally spots him on the other side of the room.

“Did…did you say something?” She inquires; voice broken and weak.

His gaze is firmly on her figure, but not as firm as it often is – it’s softened, keeping his grumpiness low to avoid scaring her and worsening her condition.

“I asked if you would like some medication – for your tension headache, to be precise.” He replies.

“Uhm…” She sways a little in her seat, eyes losing focus again while her hand falls to her lap.

He sighs softly, turning away in his chair and grabbing a small bottle of headache relief medication from a drawer in his desk. He twists open the cap, taking a single pill out, and striding over to her after grabbing a cup of cool water from the water dispenser.

“You should take it,” He hands her the pill by taking her hand and placing it on her open palm, “At the very least, it will ease the inflammation.”

She gives him a small nod before taking the pill with water as instructed. He then rests the little white cup on the coffee table nearby. When he turns to return to his desk, he feels a weak tug at the tail of his clothes.

“Do you need something else?” He inquires as softly as he can as he turns back toward her – he’s well-aware that he sounds far too strict for his own good right now.

“Stay…” She breathes, the words coming from her held together by a thinning thread.

“I was not going to leave you alone. You are in no shape for isolation.” He reassures and takes a seat next to her once she releases his clothes.

“Thank you…” She whispers, her eyes falling shut again.

And without warning, she falls against his broad shoulder – her head resting there limply. He visibly stiffens – back straightening like a board and arms flexing into knots. When he hears sudden soft snores coming from her, he sighs in relief – his body deflating. He stays still for now, eyes scanning her peaceful features before glancing to the floor.

(…That’s that for now, then.) He sighs mentally, (But I know that this is only one facet of her – too much deeply troubles her. She’s not bored and emotionless by nature – no one is.)

[jupitercl0uds]

hi! i'm ash

they/them/xe/xem • panromantic • asexual • non binary • autistic (with suspicions of having adhd) • english • atheist quaker • a tad bit silly

been on the tumbler since 2021 so i know my way around here but i dont get every little reference (i get most and for the ones i dont i just nod and smile along). i am still a teenager so some Classic Posts are older than me and most are from when i was in primary school.

i dont really have a sophisticated tagging system, but if it helps, spouting to the void is my text post tag. i dont even strictly use it for text posts tbf

blogs i run:

this one (obviously)

@blues-amazing-blog - oc blog (currently on hiatus)

@wswe-autism-fic - fanfic blog (for waluigi says 'wa' everyday until dekuyama is popular). i also treat this as an alt account for fandom stuff sometimes

@knuckles-with-a-keyboard - silly little blog where i pretend to be boom!knuckles (i really really love this blog its so fun)

@jupitercl0uds-art - my art blog (shock horror)

@nonbinary-sticks-the-badger - my sonic blog

external links (whoops forgot to add this)

maybe one day ill set up a linktree idk

ao3

letterboxd

twitter (i only use this for posting from my switch now)

spotify profile

email me - jupitercl0uds.burner@gmail.com

dm me on discord: jupitercl0uds

i think thats it

click this link for more external links including some of the above ones but specifically how to contact me if i cant use tumblr

interests:

omg i love so many things its not even funny. a few important ones are waluigi (special interest), sonic the hedgehog (special interest AND hyperfixation (omg please kill me)), art (like, as a general thing, but particularly visual) and you WILL find me randomly posting oh-so-passionately about something ive never even mentioned before.

i do animation and illustration but that's over on my art blog. also all my animations are WIPs. you probably won't find anything other than a few weird lip syncs from when i was like 11 (i got into animation because of gacha life and animation memes). most of my art is sonic atm lol.

i also read and write fanfic! my wattpad and ao3 is jupitercl0uds :D

wattpad is mostly old stuff, crack and occasional reposts of my ao3 stuff. ao3 is mostly whatever is on my mind at the moment and WSWE.

misc

occasionally i get all heated up about actually important stuff. that's usually sandwiched inbetween my regular goofy goober behaviour. for the basic gist of it: very left wing, the tories are cunts, vote green, free palestine. you also need to understand the weight of that sentence because i hate swearing.

i have other socials too but i dont really use them that much. got bored of twitter and i forget about all my other accounts. only ones i use now are whatsapp (lmao), tumblr and i guess ao3 and wattpad. theres no real point in linking something i havent used in months

anyway, have a nice day and please go to bed on time!

faves (non-exhaustive)

AUTISM BOY!!!! ANXIETY GUY!!!! MILES 'TAILS' PROWER!!!! he's been my favourite sonic character since i was little!!!! except for that brief period where it was amy because i found out tails was a boy and i, as a 7-year-old girl who had just learned about misoginy, decided amy was better because she was a girl. and that briefer period where it was cream because she had confetti in sonic dash.

my favourite iterations of him are scu tails, classic tails and sonic boom tails!!! i h/c him as autistic, having anxiety, low self-esteem but also being really cheerful and nonchalant about a lot of stuff. i enjoy trans tails of all kinds, but i believe in cis gnc tails.

NON-BINARY ICON!!!! TOP SURGERY GUY!!!! WALUIGI!!!! call me thomas jefferson cause i have an entire binder on this guy. waluigi is THE blorbo from my spin-off-party-shows. i got into him because 'hahahaha! it is the funny garlic man's funny rose partner!' and that became 'they could marry me and i'd say yes on the basis that we'd get to see each other everyday, even if i only love him as a friend.

im very passionately hateful about 'hot' waluigi. shut up. waluigi is perfect. i hope he can be canon one day <3 i h/c him as autistic, transmasc non binary and really into gothic lolita. i interpret their relationship with wario as romantic partners and waluigi being super super poor. also, wlw mlm solidarity with rosalina!!!!!

anti-faves

dr starline i love a bisexual icon as much as the next person but starline is not it. i want him to Suffer. which is why i then go on to make loads of fanart of him where he's crying over something. in the one shown above, i have just kicked him in the balls (full image). i also would love to be a VA for him because that'd really piss him off. good style tho. you go girl.

manjimutt (sorry but i only have 1 image of him)

hello to the other living yokai watch fan out there. i hate manjimutt. when i was younger i felt sorry for him, cause i was like 'oh, poor guy, always going to jail!!!' no. die. i do not like him. i hate manjimutt. i do like saying his name tho. MAnji-mutt! i think i hate him more than starline, because at least starline has redeeming qualities. the only redeeming qualities manjimutt has is pity because hes not actually committing crimes. thats it. hes not a nice person. hes just a guy. hit him with a wooden plank (har har).

that poor poor poodle though

posts i like

idk posts on my own blog i like a lot. idk if thisll be A Thing because im literally only doing tthis because of the first post on the list

recognising a url and the chaos that followed

stuff about my lgbtq+ identity idk

THIS IS HOW MUCH I KNOW ABOUT SONIC OK!!!!!

can you call me that slur?

[blkkizzat]

ty for tag remi pookies! ❤

• started writing ?

in my ff.net days. hmm when i was super young like 2012? lol ive only written bits and pieces of things and quit for like years at a time. this is actually my longest stint writing consistently lol.

• started blogging ?

i used to be obsessed with working out and keto/paleo so i had a fitspo blog which had a crazy amount of follower, thank god that blog is now archived lol. but i was casually reading jjk fanfics on here from like may 2023 to aug 2023 when i decided to make my own blog and start writing!

• followers ?

5.1k, and honestly many more than i deserve for being such a slow writer and for not writing at least 3 of the 9 months ive had this blog due to school/illness/travel. i edit ALOT and rework fics 10x over so i really appreciate all the positive feedback and support my work does get especially since it skews longer (5k to me is a short fic LOL) and i be spending 30-40hrs+ on fics. i know people like reading shorter things but i never feel like my shorter works are as good as my longer ones (i really have to be in a mood to write something under 1k). so it means even more that so many of y'all do read the long-winded shit i put out. thats why i always try to respond back to every comment and answer every ask cause i want y'all to know how much i appreciate it!

• communication ?

i will honestly talk to anyone and everyone! i prefer discord but like chatting on here too. i will drop by others asks and i love getting asks and talking to anons. i hope no one ever feels too intimidated to talk to me cause im just a loser pervert dork like otaku!gojo lmfao.

• likes ?

i appreciate the likes but i love the comments and reblogs with tags, those really keep me going. you dont even have to say anything profound just "i liked this alot" and i would squirt with joy istg lmfao.

• requests ?

are currently closed. im such a slow writer that i closed them at the beginning of the month with a goal to get through the 20 or so I have by the end of the year LOL! But i love hearing your ideas, if you wanna send me ideas or just chat about a headcanon you have feel free! im always down to share thoughts.

• writing ?

writing has always come easy for me in the sense of i have a huge imagination. something pos that comes from my dissociative daydreaming lol, it really puts me in the space of the characters/world and ideas just flow. once i just started writing about my daydreams and stopped looking for "plots" the ideas just wont stop coming! i wish i were a faster writer because sometimes i feel like imma burst if i dont get something typed out lol. they nag me in the back of my head lol.

i am working on techniques to become faster though (mostly cause i sometimes i over edit) like just writing without reworking sentences or pausing to think of better adjectives and being ok with being repetitive until its time to edit.

• fics you’re proud of ?

a bumpy ride - ok this is my most popular fic lol but thats not why im proud of it, it was my first time in ages writing 'crack'/humor. People telling me they laughed from my writing is such a huge compliment omfg. like im not funny y'all im just crazy, i swear lmfaoooo.

ghostface!choso, because it was my first time writing horror and writing for choso. i wasn't sure if i could do it tbh. it took me out of my comfort zone but i really liked the end product and like im obsessed with killer choso now lmfao.

plug!choso, hello?!!? i can write angst?? i wasnt even intending to istg lmfao it just came out and the story took a life of its own. crazy.

tagging some of my fav writers, no presh ofc: @tonycries @ohimsummer @yuutx @bunny584 @triangularz @bakubunny

@081231 @hoshigray @screampied @ramonathinks @arlerts-angel @nkogneatho

+anyone else bc i know i forgot sum ᥫ᭡

Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game

Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.

Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...

Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)

Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.

Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....

Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.

Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.

Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.

There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.

I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.

Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join

[dre6ming]

Tell me…was it worth it?~I thought you quit~sequel

“I stayed there” series -part II

Masterlist here

〘Part I 〙〘Part III〙〘Part IV 〙〘Part V 〙

To be added to the tag list click here

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warnings: a little swearing, crying, idk I think that’s it, fluff angst

Plot: it’s been three years, but you’re still stuck there with him. Austin got the part for Elvis and finished the movie, he moved on, or so you think. Going back home your luck makes it so that you meet again, but it’s not the same as it was.

Word count: 2100+

Disclaimer: I don’t want to make Kaia a villain, I don’t know her and I have nothing against her, I’m just describing the way I think the reader would see Austin’s gf on the outside.

After that day in the park time went on for the both of you, but differently. For him it past by very fast, two weeks after your break up the news of him getting the role of his life were everywhere, he was doing press in the Elvis voice and you could see it in his eyes that he was lost in this person he now played. He looked happy and you almost forgot you walked for an hour in the cold, butt wet from your fall, tears soaked into the collar of your sweater, you almost forgot and you felt happy for him, but before you went to look for his number in the contacts to congratulate him, you remembered. So you cried.

For you time went on different, somehow slower, you were busy with studying, every day in med school seamed harder than the last, but you loved it, plus every time you wanted to cry from how tired you were over learning so much, his words pushed you further. "Just fucking drop out already" he had said to you, slapping you over the face with that one intrusive thought you had, so you were always pushing on those words to prove you can finish and be a doctor. All the college work helped erase the event from you mind, but his memory was forever alive. There were times when you'd wake up and think it was all a dream, than you'd pull up that picture album and look at it, cause it was in fact true, just always so private. Only your families knew he was your boyfriend, for "privacy reasons" he had said, which made you feel special, he wanted you all to himself. But then again there were those thoughts that he was ashamed you were not a famous girl with a Covergirl bod.

Now it's three years later, a heartbreak  and a pandemic put behind you. You sit in the chair, in the big stadium, dressed in your graduation gown. The say your name, you get up, take the diploma with shaky hands, smile for the picture, get down from the podium, hug your parents and cry, because you're 26 and finally a doctor. At the after party you drink with your best friend (bff/n) and manage to get a little tipsy. As the coordinator gets in the stage to tell you all to settle down, your heart starts to race, the waiters handing out the small envelopes. Each one has the name on the student it belongs to on it and inside is the name of the place where you got accepted for you residency. Your sweaty hands cause the envelope to dampen and to wrinkles at it's edges. You share a look with (bff/n) and you open it.

"New Amsterdam, New York!!" She screams as she got her number one option she wished for. "What did you get?" You look at the name and start to cry, a ticket back home. "Los Angeles community hospital, LA" you say trying to make it believable that you are finally moving back home, after 6 years of medical school in Boston. You are so happy, you hug you best friend and order another round of drinks to enjoy.

-one month later-

As you bring the last box of things into your small two bedroom apartment you smile to yourself. You've made it so far that it seams like a dream, but you are not ready to wake up, if that's the case. You bought the small apartment with the money you still had left in you college fund, since along the years you got scholarships here and there to help pay for your studies. The 50 square meters apartment has a nice cozy vibe, it is an open concept plan, with the kitchen looking into the living room. It's also conveniently just one hour away from the hospital and two hours away from your parents house all the way in Anaheim where you grew up. That's how you met Austin, you were 22 back then and on summer vacation visiting your family. One night when you decided to camp outside and sleep on the nearby beach you met him. At first you didn't know he who he was, you didn't know he was a famous actor, not even after he told you his full name, guess he liked that...until he didn't anymore.

You shake your head at the thought of him, it's been three years, but you never allowed another relationship, you focused on your studies and that was that. Austin on the other hand, while busy with filming Elvis, managed to add 3 new girlfriends to his belt, the most recent one being a 20 year old model. For a while it was easy to forget about him, but then he started promoting the movie and he was everywhere.

You start to unpack some of the boxes and as the sun sets you finished putting everything in your bedroom and part of the kitchen. Too tired to do anything else, you skip dinner and just go to bed. It takes you a full week to settle in, unpack everything and do some shopping. You still have 3 weeks before you start your internship year at the hospital so you pick this Sunday as the best day to finally go over to your parents house and visit them. The drive is nice, but way to crowded for your liking and unfortunately way too hot, that's the one thing you liked about Boston, it was never this hot. Pulling up in your parents driveway, you are reminded of the last time you were here years ago before your break up. It's safe to say you avoided LA for the purpose of not having to face him again, but now it's been years and you're mature and grown. Right?!

You get out of the car, lock it and go inside, where your dad is on the sofa in the living room watching a movie. "Hi dad!" He gets up, big smile on his face. His hug is so tight the air is pushed out of you, so you pet his back to let him know. "My doctor daughter!! Honey, the doctor is home!" He called you doctor since you got into meds school but now that you graduated, he seams to have forgotten you have a name, that is not doctor. Your mom comes from the bedroom and hugs you, she is happy to see you, but she keeps to herself. It's safe to say she's a lot colder than your dad. "It's nice to see you, (y/n)!" She lets go of you and goes back to her business, typical.

After an hour on the sofa with your dad, you decide it would be nice to go for a walk on the beach. You get up, go to your old room, pick a random novel out of your bookcase and go. The sand between your toes feels nice, the warmth of it travels through your body. You pick a place under one of the many palm trees, so you stay covered in the shadow, put your beach towel down and sit. You fly through half of your book pretty fast, the plot captures you so much that when you feel something wet touch your feet, you get startled. The white pup in front of you keeps licking your feet despite you trying to hide them in the sand. You pet it and it makes is way into your lap. Looking up you search for the owner "Sheldon!" You hear a male voice say and as soon as you see him and put a face to the stranger's voice, your whole body grows cold, you want to throw up. He comes near you, but with your head down he doesn't seam to figure out who you are right away, or maybe he just forgot who you were. "Sheldon, come here buddy!" The dog gets up from your lap and goes back to his owner. "I'm sorry, he doesn't really do that, people kinda scare him off" Austin says. His Elvis voice is still with him it seams. "That's ok" you don't look at him, you can't, so you just wait for him to go, but he lingers a moment to long.

"(Y/n)?!" the moment your name leaves his lips, you look up at him, he can now see your face and he can't believe it's really you. "Yeah.." that's all you say as he stays there looking you up and down, you haven't changed at all besides your hair being longer and you maybe losing a few pounds, you still look the same. So does he, but yet it feels like you're looking at a stranger. His hair is back to his natural dark blonde and he looks considerably healthier than he did when you left him in the middle of that park back in Boston. "What are you doing here, I haven't seen you in ages!" Austin stands over you, cream colored pants rolled up and thin white T-shirt moving on his torso with the blow of the wind. You stay quiet, you don't want to talk to him.

"Babe, why did you run like that!" A voice says from behind him. He turns around as the girl approaches him. It's the model. The 20 year old beautiful model. You begin to pack you bag as she puts her arms around his neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "I had to catch Sheldon, sorry" he answers, then he turns to you, seeing you pack up to leave. "So how have you been?" He asks. Does he really care? No way he does. "Good." You keep your answer short and cold.

"How's school going?" Oh my gosh you can't believe him, he really wants to do small talk with you now? "Finished." You glance at the girl on his arm she's busy looking at her phone not interested in who he was talking to. "Oh so you dropped out in the end?" You blink turning your head, no way he just slapped you with his words like that. "I graduated, Austin!" His name tastes like poison on your lips. "Oh that's great, congratulations!" You nod, putting you bag on your shoulder as you begin to walk away. "Hey!" You feel his hand on you arm and pull away. He looks at you confused. "What would you say to grabbing a coffee with me sometime?" You know he didn't just ask you that, you know you imagined it, you're crazy, that's what this is. "What?" You look back at his girlfriend, but she doesn't care, preoccupied with something else. "Coffee with me? Casual of course, just to catch up, you know!" He explains pushing his hair back. "No, I'm sorry, but no." And just like that you walk away, crying.

This person you just talked to wasn't your Austin. Your Austin was sweet, shy, reserved, considerate, always careful with his words, gentle and kind. This Austin was something else, some of those things you could still see, but there was arrogance now, cockiness, he was a Hollywood star you guessed.

Back at your parents house after dinner you lay in bed, scrolling through your phone. Involuntarily you open up the contacts app and look at his number, you never deleted it, you kept it. You even unblocked it a week after blocking it, you hoped he'd text you back, to say he got the part and that he was sorry. You wanted him back, or you at least wanted his last words to you to be something more than "I think we should break up!". You close your phone and put it back on your nightstand.

For the rest of the night you toss and turn, you can't shut your mind off , but when you finally fall asleep you dream of him. His voice, his smell and you wake up shaking, licking your lips, somehow tasting him on them. You sit up in bed and take your phone in your hand. Mind cloudy with anger you find his number and start writing your text.

"Tell me! Was it worth it?"

You quickly press to delete it, but you accidentally hit send. Your heart drops in your stomach, you feel like you might pass out. The last text you send him, was still there, he never answered it or if he did you had blocked him and the text never went through. All you can do now is pray he changed his number.

That hope dies fast as you see the 3 bubbles indicating he was writing back to you, appear on your phone.

Fuck? What is he going to say?

[moneymasnn]

Why the f*ck would I say no?|Mason Mount

Based on the club World Cup final.

Notes: I haven’t proof read yet!

warnings: None, mild swearing, just lots of mason fluff.

You were sat in some fancy restaurant on one of the highest floors in Abu dhabi. You were sat next to masons mum, who was sipping her cocktail, and sitting on the other side of the table was masons brother and sister.

You felt slightly tipsy as you and Debbie sipped your cocktails getting excited for the club World Cup final that would play out later in the evening.

"We should send him a picture, let him know how much fun we are having without him." Debbie grinned as she started to get her phone out pf her purse.

You laughed as you pushed your chair back, "ill take it for you guys."

"What, no, we can ask the people behind us, or the waitress, sit down y/n" Debbie waved you off, earring a little giggle from jaz and lewis.

After kindly asking the waitress to take a photo of the four of you, jaz and lewis had posted it on their instagram story's, tagging you. Something that had stood out was the way lewis had captioned it family.

You and mason had been together for about 4 years now, you started dating him when you both were about 19 and he had just made his debut at Chelsea. You had just started your YouTube Chanel and were both under the same publicist agency so you met at some random party. And from there on out mason hadn't left your side for 4 years, safe to say you had done the same. 

You had seen him though every loss and every win, you could only hope tonight would add to the win list.

"Jaz take one of me a y/n.”Debbie said as she passed the phone to jaz.

Debbie wrapped her arm around you as you both leaned in with smiles, holding up your cocktails. You both were laughing at the photo.

"Oh I have to send that to him" Debbie laughed as she messaged mason the photo.

Masons heart bubbled at the message his mum had sent to him, the photo of the two best women in his life had just made its way to his favourite photo in the world. To masons family you were already part of the family, but mason wanted to make that official.

After brunch you changed into your Chelsea top with ‘mount’ on the back, as you made your way to the back rooms of the stadium so you could see mason before and wish him luck.

Walking in the room his mum had nudged your side to go embrace him first in a hug.

You smiled as you opened your arms for him, his has sliding around your waist as he placed his head on your shoulder, then placing a small kiss on your cheek.

"You okay?" you ask him with a smile, seeing his nervousness.

"Im fine, totally fine, are you fine?"

You furred your brows at masons nervous rambling, "Well im not the one who's about to play in a club World Cup final so, im fine, you on the other hand." you smile up at him as you place your hand on his cheek.

"You seem nervous, mase" you say to him as he looks down Ito your eyes.

"Yeah well-" Mason awkwardly laughs in between sentences, "oh Bens here" he turns around, "Ben come say hello, like right now." Mason demands over to ben as you slip your arm off his shoulder.

"I saw her yesterday?" ben laughs as he brings you in for a hug.

Mason then turns to his mum, who was laughing at him telling him he needs to focus on the game.

"Ive never seen him this nervous for a game before?" you say too ben as you watch lewis laugh at masons mumble rambling.

"Yeah well your see." Ben smirks as he walked away.

"Whats that supposed to mean Benjamin?" But ben didn't answer your question since he had sprinted off around the corner.

You walk back over to mason standing with his family as you are welcomed by a bunch of hushes, you stand in silence of a moment before jaz speaks up.

"He's just a bit nervous that's all, we should go though." jazz said.

You were now even more confused as you watch his family hug him goodbye and his mum kiss him on the cheek.

Then mason eventually turned to you.

"Good luck Mr mount" you smirk as you place a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I love you" he says as he kissed your head.

"love you more mounty bounty"

You were now sat in you stadium chair, bouncing your leg as you anxiously bit your nails, Masons anxious attitude had clearly reflected on to you.

"If you keep bouncing you knee like that the stadium's going to collapse" lewis laughed in your ear.

"Sorry, I can't help it." you say as you slow down the bouncing of your leg.

It was safe to say the game was intense as hell, but when you followed security down to see mason, you couldn't stop the tears in your eyes when you saw the huge smile on his face.

You ran up to him wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in a tight as tight as possible. As you sniffled on his shoulder.

"Are you crying?" mason giggled as he pulled back to look at your face.

"No" you mumbled as you place your head on his chest.

Mason laughs as he places a kiss to your head. He hugs his mum, sister and brother, excepting all there congratulations before turning back to you.

"On the count of three jump, okay?" he whispers in your ear.

"What?" you giggle back.

"The security will shout at me so you have to be quick" mason couldn’t help but laugh at your worried expression, as you place an arm on his shoulder.

"One..two...three!"

Mason lifted you over the barrier bridal style, placing you down and grabbing your hand to pull you out further onto the pitch.

You were both giggling as Ben wondered over with a wide grin.

“Delivery for a Mason Tony Mount?" He said, passing something to mason.

"Thanks mate" said mason as he grabbed whatever it was ben had passed him and patted him on the back.

"what was that about- mase?" You stared to ask, but then your words were taken from you as you watched mason start to get down on one knee.

"Oh my god" you whispered, you covered your mouth with your hand as your mind became all foggy from all the noise of the stadium as they started cheering at you, as well as all of masons team mates shouting.

"Miss y/n y/m/n y/l/n, I know you get cringed out easily, so I dont want to do that, but im like 110% sure your my soulmate, an- and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. To have a family with you, like the whole lot, kids, a dog, and then we can be old and gross together. So would you please make me the happiest man on the world, and marry me?" Mason says with a toothy grin, his hand holding the box shaking slightly.

"Please dont say no.” he whispered at your quietness.

You blink a few times, you knew mason like a book and you had no idea this was coming. Everything feel into place, masons nervousness all the little hints from his family…

"Why the fuck would I say no?!" you laughed as you jumped on top of him, causing mason to fall back on the grass.

The cheers from the whole stadium were louder than anything you had heard before, as you placed your self up on your hands, looking down at a very giggly mason.

"Just so we're clear...that was yes?"

"Yes yes yes, id love to marry you." you giggled as you placed your lips on his.

Mason sat up slightly on his elbows, as you pulled away, placing a few more pecks on his lips.

After a while mason pulled you up, grabbing the box with the ring and placing it on your engagement finger, and all of the boys came running over, congratulating you and Mason.

You couldn't wipe the smile of your face as you glanced down at the ring on your finger that meant you were going to be officially tied to the love of your life.

[lucilucialu]

may i ask, you said you were gonna reread all your fav thiam fics so if you could id love a few recs? i feel like ive read all the classics already but im down to read or reread anything to just feel something after the cody not being in the movie confirmation. had a good kinda drunk cry earlier over everyones posts about how he must be feeling. so ill take legit any rec man (also i love your teenwolfincorrectquotes blog, shits so funny i love em so much and i very much appreciate the effort!!)

i cried a bit too so don't worry sdfghjkl and 💘💘💘 tysm!!!!! i really appreciate you saying that :) i actually have like a hundred fake texts, instagram posts and tweets (which seems to be most people's favorite kind of post) that i haven't posted yet, sooooo be ready for more content ;))

now get ready for a long ass fic rec

Riptide, by Captainmintyfresh (one-shot) (@captainmintyfresh or @thiamfresh)

Set during the war against the hunters. Liam needs an anchor to control his anger properly. Theo offers to be that anchor until everything's over, then Liam is free to find a real one (spoiler: he doesn't, turns out Theo is his real anchor).

Stones, by cherrysprite (one-shot) (@chcrrysprite)

Theo is learning how to be a normal 19 year old and collects rocks. It's so cute. He's so cute (Liam is so in love).

you make me mad, I'm fire again, by klli (multi-chapter) (@homosexualrodent)

They keep making out and Liam keeps saying "this won't happen again" (but it does) and they eventually fall in love.

Baby Elephant Syndrome, by TheOceanIsMyInkwell (one-shot) (@theoceanismyinkwell)

Inspired by this but developed into something much better!!!! Basically pining Thiam and Mason and Theo friendship.

a fire without a spark, by crownedcarl (one-shot) (@dickardgansey)

AU of 6.18/6.19. Exactly what the tags say: pining, miscommunication, light angst, self-esteem issues, getting together. It's not as angsty as it sounds, I promise.

Handle With Care, by Attempted Eloquence (multi-chapter, WIP) (@attempted--eloquence)

This one..... fuck. It's beautiful. This has to be one of my favorite thiam fics (even made a moodboard inspired by it). I won't reveal anything, just do yourself a favor and read this fic.

As I bleed, by Captainmintyfresh (two-shot)

Liam and Theo playing ''kiss where it hurts''. Platonic pecks that turn into romantic pecks.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things, by cherrysprite (one-shot)

Thiam summer fic. Theo meets Liam's family and spends the summer with them in their small town. Mostly fluff!! Here's the summary: "“...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him. Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him".

no one's ever held me like this (am i allowed to look at you this way?), by frustrateddumbbar (one-shot) (@petitommo)

Human AU: Professional Cuddler Theo Raeken. Okay, hear me out. I know how it sounds but it's actually a really really good fic, I swear. All fluff (a bit of angst too), featuring a very confused Liam Dunbar.

Key to My Heart, by TheOceanIsMyInkwell (WIP)

BAND AU BAND AU BAND AU BAND AU. Only a chapter so far but I can't wait for more of this fic, I just love this concept.

I'm good right here, by dylsdunbar (one-shot) (@dylsdunbar)

I recently read this one and it made me so so so happy. It's so sweet!!!!! Some light angst but it's just fluff and Theo loving Liam so much it's ridiculous.

How to Ruin a Perfectly Adequate One Night Stand in Ten Easy Steps, by parttimehuman (one-shot) (@parttimehuman)

Human AU. Just smut and crack. Liam doesn't exactly enjoy his one night stand with Theo and now he's forced to spend the day after at Theo's place too.

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can), by fallingforboys (one-shot) (@falling-for-boys)

This one is very dear to me because it was the first time someone wrote a fic inspired by something I posted here :))

Sweet talking, by Captainmintyfresh (multi-chapter)

5 times Theo gets jealous and chases people from Liam's house + 1 time Liam gets jealous and chases someone from his house. This one is full of fun and fluff and dumbassery!!

Double Take on Double Date Night, by TheOceanIsMyInkwell (one-shot)

Theo gets thrown out of the haunted house but when Liam gets on the phone to confront him, he finds out there's a real reason for Theo's freakout. Mostly hurt/comfort but also fluff and humor.

carve my name into your history, by honeyscape (one-shot) (@honeyscapes)

I'm sure everyone has already read Inglorious Roommates (which is amazing), but she has so many more great fics like this one! The plot is basically this.

moonlit winter clouds the color of the desperation of wolves, by klli (WIP)

The plot is so interesting and the idea is really original: "In a world tainted by division and conflict, Liam and Theo are integral to two very different factions. Upon meeting facelessly, they learn that being on opposing sides does not guarantee dissimilitude. Once a paper trail is established between the two, alluding to the novel association between members of hostile parties, the pair can not bring themselves to break off contact before their connection is found out". Only a chapter so far but I can't wait for more!!

Teen Wolves, by nothoughts_headempty (multi-chapter, WIP)

The puppy pack spin-off we deserve (and what I'm going to consider canon instead of the movie)!!!!! This is written in a script format, which makes it really easy to read.

you're my head, you're my heart [Or: The Shameless Thiam 'verse], by likelightninginabottle (series: 2 works) (@inabottlelikelightning)

Post canon, established relationship, domestic fluff, smut, humor, MARRIAGE PROPOSAL...... this has it all, please go read it.

Staying Alive, by TheOceanIsMyInkwell (series: 3 works)

These fics mean a lot to me, actually. Perfect balance between fluff and angst. Basically the best hurt/comfort I've ever read. Be careful tho, check the tags before reading in case something might trigger you.

What are they gonna do, fire me?, by songbvrd (multi-chapter, WIP) (@songbvrd)

I've never read an AU like this one and I'm in love with it, can't wait for it to be updated!!!!!! Summary: "Liam has amassed a significant tiktok following ranting about his place of work and the unfair salary. When CEO Theo Raeken finds out his employee is criticising his company, he tries to silence him. Instead, Liam challenges him to a very public dare: to live on Liam’s salary, with Liam’s rent and amenities, and do Liam’s job, for one whole month".

trying my best, nobody showed me which way to go (i didn’t know), by justt_ppeachy (multi-chapter, WIP) (@justt-ppeachy)

Theo learns that maybe he's a little fucked up and finds ways to accept it. Liam helps a lot. Also Brett and Theo are best friends.

SoulMate, by Skaboom (multi-chapter, WIP)

Another AU that I can't wait to read more of: "In an attempt to repair his sullied reputation, handsome, bad boy app developer Theo Raeken agrees to take on the lead of the reality dating show SoulMate. After Theo’s nastiness causes his handler to quit last minute, jaded cameraman Liam Dunbar finds himself saddled with making sure this jerk winds up finding love on national television. As 30 women vie for Theo’s attention (and a chance to promote themselves), Liam learns whether or not it is actually possible to find love on SoulMates".

Message Not Sent, by Vorsakh (multi-chapter, WIP)

Okay this is just porn lmao. Porn with feelings, tho. Theo is pining so hard and so is Liam. VERY explicit, comes with pictures. Thiam sexting fic that (according to the author) will have its final chapter soon.

and every day is like a battle (but every night with us is like a dream), by cherrysprite (multi-chapter, WIP)

THIS ONE!!! Fake dating actors AU. So far, it is mostly angst and humor (and fluff, but not too much), and I'm looking forward to them actually falling in love with each other.

wash away the blood and grime, by asexualclassicist (one-shot)

Liam and Theo taking care of each other after a fight against the hunters. They have a post-fight ritual to make sure they're okay, checking for injuries and kissing everywhere. Lots of skin on skin contact and intimacy (no smut!!).

Dumbassery, by Herlilacskies (one-shot)

Exactly what the title says: dumbassery. Theo got his GED, a job, and has moved out from Liam's house. He and Liam hang out almost as much as Liam and Mason, who Liam calls to "complain" about how hot and amazing is Theo. Only... it wasn't Mason's number he dialed.

Band-Aids, by cherrysprite (one-shot)

Human AU featuring nurse Theo, stupid Liam and a very tired of Liam's shit Mason. Expect a lot of dumbassery and flirting.

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

A Wolf’s Heart | [Deglan x M!Reader] | The Witcher | Part V

Notes: This is part 5 of a request and the angst is still here yayyy but Deglan finally appears with his own POV :P

Fandom: The Witcher

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Swearing, Depression, Angst, Slight OOC, Non-Canon Story, Century Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Spiraling, Injuries, Self-Concious Reader, Misunderstandings, My sad attempts at making the language sound old

Summary: Y/N made a promise. A promise he’s willing to keep, even though he is not yet over Deglan. But fate has to be a bitch and for the second time, he does not appear in Kaer Morhen in the winter. Deglan is furious...

Word Count: 5,483

Taglist: @thatsequoia

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Additional note: Birke is on March 20

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed and is addressed in this story. If this makes you uncomfortable or triggers you please do not continue to read!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part VI, Part VII

Masterlist

"He will probably arrive in a few days, I’m quite early after all. So, don’t worry, Deglan."

"I don’t know, maybe he is stuck in the snow. He will come, he promised. Let’s wait a bit longer."

"I-I don’t think he was acting. He seriously promised me, he is not the lying kind."

"... I apologize, I... I really don’t know..."

-

Fenri pulled Barmin aside in the passage before the Evening hall. The torches only lit the place poorly and he pulled the red-head under the shine of the flame. He worldlessly showed him a letter. Barmin read it and his face turned into a frown.

"So... he lied to us?" 

Fenri nodded, his teeth grinding in anger. He was certain that Y/N had lied to him. Straight to his face. 

The blond man had been a bit suspicious after they had parted in Kaedwen and he never received a letter until the next winter but life as a witcher was busy so he made excuses for the h/c haired man. And they had never really exchanged letters before so it didn’t seem that strange. 

But he had been wrong. He believed his rival with blind trust. 

He knew Y/N could be a coward. Just not such a big one. 

Barmin sighed next to him. 

"He is a bloody fool", barked Fenri and crumpled up the apology letter.

The other witcher looked at him and hummed, his eyes showed disappointment as well but he tried to hide it.

"He must be scared. It seems reasonable that he didn’t return this year as well. Did you not tell him that we would never view him differently because of his feelings?"

Fenri shook his head with a frown. 

"What does it matter? He wouldn’t have come regardless." 

Barmin leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew that the blond witcher wasn't yet done with his tirade, so he got comfortable.

"I understand him. I really do! After that fucking... After we had to watch that pair of lovers get strung up by the people who ate with them every day...  Their own damn family! - I understand why he is scared. But he promised. And after all those years of training together, I thought I knew one thing about Y/N for sure; that he’s not a liar. That he values promises."

Fenri paused and tried to relax the fists that he unconsciously formed during his words. He could still see the two men from all those years ago hanging before his eyes. The grotesque satisfaction in the eyes of their family members. The absolute horror on Y/N's face... 

He had witnessed that moment in his youth but that moment still followed him into his dreams even now. How much worse it had to be for his rival... 

"You know, I would have helped him with Deglan. I had this intricate plan for how I would aid him, how I would make sure he would finally see what-”, he sighed, “You remember Hannes, yes?"

Barmin nodded, his friend had recounted to him how he met a bard in Vergen who also knew Y/N. 

That whole encounter was embarrassing for Fenri because he had shown the bard his ugly side. 

He was drunk in a tavern when the other man started a conversation and told him about another witcher he met in Aedirn, Y/N. They quickly realized that they knew the same person and after a lot of ale, Fenri spilt the thoughts that had been plaguing him since his rival stayed away from Kaer Morhen during their first winter. 

Hannes listened patiently and then lectured him about the common folk and their attitude towards anything unusual. He told him many stories about people like him - he actually expressed his interest in men openly to Fenri’s utter surprise - and the blonde learned that Y/N's "avoid or die" stance was sadly a fairly good instinct. 

So he did understand his friend and sympathised with him. But the fact that Y/N broke his promise hurt him anyway. He wanted to spar with the fool, he wanted to boast about his hunts, spend time with him and the others like the good old days and also reminisce about Cole. He missed the fucker, okay. He was family.

But now he had to wonder if the h/c haired witcher would appear in Kaer Morhen ever again. It had to be his fault. After all, Y/N never said he forgave him and accepted his apology.

"Hannes believes that Y/N has already given up hope. That he resigned himself to be alone forever. And I don’t blame him for that. As witchers, we don’tt have it easy with love and most of us don’t even consider it, but we have places we can go to for relief. He doesn’t. Or at least not that I know of... But that isn’t what I am trying to say", he groaned in frustration and turned his head left and right to check the passage. 

After listening intently for a second he said: 

"If only he knew what Deglan feels for him. It’s so fucking obvious! I am telling you, those bastards are mutually in love. I bet all my belongings! If Y/N would just get his head out of his arse and come here..." 

Barmin watched the light of the torches dance on the stone wall with a pensive expression. He was uncertain about the letter Fenri showed him. He couldn’t imagine that Y/N outright lied to Fenri’s face. That just wasn’t their friend. He watched the blond witcher rant and crossed his arms before his chest.

"Quite funny that you are so noisy about their relationship. Considering the words you said to us all those years ago."

Fenri scratched his neck awkwardly. 

"I asked for forgiveness, you know that", he mumbled and his friend placatingly patted his shoulder. 

"I know. I merely want you to remember not to meddle in other people's affairs."

His eyes wandered to the dark end of the passage, where the corridor split into two parts.

Fenri only grinned apologetically.

The next day during a sparring match, he received a bloody nose. Groaning he tilted his head back while sitting in the dirt. He heard Barmin snort behind him.

"Mind your own business, boy", Deglan spat before walking out of the courtyard.

The blond witcher held his bloody nose and took the hand of his friend who helped him up. Barmin patted his shoulder.

"I told you", he said with a grin.

Fenri rolled his eyes.

"He had already heard everything by then."

The red-head only laughed and he sighed. Hopefully Deglan would do something now. He had big hopes that his mentor would bring their unruly friend back. If the older witcher couldn’t do it... 

There would be no hope at all.

-

"You need to calm down."

"Oh, shut your old mouth, Rennes! I am calm!" Deglan growled as he paced in the wolf school leader's room. 

He wanted to leave Kaer Morhen right now and go beat someone up. Someone with h/c hair and a lot of scars in his face. 

He would punch that someone real good and then he would drag him back to the school's keep. Where he would beat him some more, to get his point across. 

And after that, he would confess his love, kiss him breathless and then fuck the shit out of him. Preferably in that order. 

The fact that he couldn't do any of that, therefore, made him considerably angry. 

"Well, then you can fuck off and be calm in your own goddamn room, my attention is needed by those documents." 

Rennes massaged the bridge of his nose while he sat at his desk which was covered with papers and books of all sizes. Deglan was about to open his mouth and argue but Rennes interrupted him: 

"And I told you, you are not to leave these castle walls before spring arrives. You got punched too much in the head if you think I will let you go out there for merely one witcher." 

"He is not just any witcher-" Deglan started, but he got interrupted once more:

"He is Y/N, the best of the bunch you trained, I know. All the more reason to not let you storm off like a bloody fool. What do you even try to achieve? He probably arrived too late at the mountain range and got snowed in. Fenri himself said he was on his way here." 

Deglan had to physically restrict himself to not break Rennes' nose too. That was the thing, Y/N never planned to come home. 

And now that he knew why he could not sit still anymore. His patience had been running thin for years and when Fenri told him that the h/c haired witcher was finally returning to Kaer Morhen this winter, his blood began to boil in excitement. 

Excitement, because he had been waiting for two years now to finally clear up the misunderstanding that had driven them apart. 

Whenever he thought about that moment he needed to restrain himself from wanting to murder Olav - the witcher who was the cause of the misunderstanding. 

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. 

"When winter is over, I want to go out on the Path."

Rennes looked up from the letter he was reading and frowned.

"To go look for him? Deglan, what the fuck is the matter with you and that boy?"

"He’s not a boy anymore."

The older witcher dismissively waved his hand. 

"You can’t leave right away, you know the rules. You have not yet done all the training months from last year." 

Deglan gnashed his teeth in annoyance. Despite his anger, he gave in.

"Okay, but I will leave after Birke."

It was okay. He had been patient for such a long time. He could be patient for a bit longer. Just a bit. 

After Rennes finally gave his approval, not without scrutinizing him first, he left his room. 

It was already late afternoon but he was not in the mood to eat anything. So he went to his own quarters and lay on his bed, staring at the stone ceiling with crossed arms behind his head. 

Birke was still a few months away and the uncertainty about Y/N's fate was heavily weighing on his mind. 

Fenri believed that Y/N was staying away willingly and Deglan knew that it was very likely - he understood the younger man's way of thinking well - but he could not stop himself from worrying about his safety anyway. 

Y/N's character had never allowed him to back away from any fight much less one with a monster, at least not that he was aware of. Deglan wondered if he ever took his words from before to heart. The lack of knowledge tortured him. 

He wanted to see the h/c haired man. He wanted to grab him and shake him violently by the shoulders, to tell him that he was a bloody bastard. How dare he make him wait so long and break his promise?!

Deglan knew about the younger man's feelings for him for a long time. 

At first, he thought those feelings were simply admiration - every witcher had a mentor they looked up to - but when Y/N’s glances lingered longer in the following years, when his body turned rigid as soon as Deglan got a bit too close and his ears turned a deep shade of red, he understood. 

He remembered how Cole had told him about Fenri's comments all these years ago and how he had noticed the stares Y/n had given another witcher.

And then it hit him.

Never in a million lifetimes had he thought that someone would look at him like that again. As if their breath got taken away whenever Deglan looked at them. As if he was the most important person in their life.

He was not one to brag, but when he had been younger he turned a lot of heads. Not that many approached him, his witcher eyes and prominent scars deterred even the bravest among them. But he had been quite popular. Back then.

That changed though. His best years were most likely behind him, his beard and hair already had streaks of grey, and he never thought he would be someone's object of affection again. Especially not his student’s.

It came as a surprise. 

And Deglan had told himself at first to ignore it. Y/N would change his mind soon enough. He did not want to imagine anything, he was much older than the other and Y/N was still fairly young when his feelings bloomed and with a few more years he would forget. 

But he never did. 

The h/c haired youth turned into a formidable man with muscles at the right places, scars littering his lean body and the yellow eyes of a witcher full of courage and a sense of duty. 

And the look in his eyes never changed when he watched Deglan. The older witcher, therefore, could not stop his heart from wavering when the man reached the end of his training. 

After all, he had felt a certain connection to the other since he was just a brat.

The fact that Y/N appeared to also like the same sex had been reason enough for him back then to take him under his wings. Deglan knew well enough what could happen when that kind of preference got known and he saw his younger self in him, so he decided to watch over the boy in secret. 

He made sure that any kind of foul talk would be met with punishments, he tried to shelter him from any abuse and he thought he did it fairly well. 

But he noticed that Fenri's and Y/N's rivalry took a turn for the worse and then the two boys were sent on a hunt to the closest village by Rennes.  

The rascals' expressions when they returned had been strange. Both of them had departed with an exciting air around them but that was nowhere to be found when Deglan welcomed them back. Y/N's eyes appeared empty, his expression haunted. Something had definitely happened. Something bad. 

So, when Fenri was surprisingly meek the following days, he had asked the witcher who took them down the mountain what had occurred during their days away. 

He told him that they witnessed the hanging of some sinners during the last day.

Deglan counted two and two together and it broke his heart. 

He began to notice how Y/N became careful with touch, that he never let his hands linger on the shoulder of his friends. The youth looked lost and Deglan scolded himself that he was unable to protect Y/N from witnessing that awful moment. 

Once, he had been that boy - to be fair, he had been much older - but he had a close confidant who knew about his preferences, he had had support. 

Deglan remembered his late friend and he felt a sting in his heart.

Although Y/n appeared to have found good friends in Cole, Barmin and the others, he was most likely scared. Scared that if he showed his true feelings his fate would be the same.

And so Deglan had decided to become a confidant for the boy. He would try to be a better mentor. Someone Y/N could trust.

This decision had led to the improvement of their relationship and suddenly Y/N's eyes were stuck on him like a tick.

The boy grew into a handsome young man and his small hands turned as big as Deglan’s. Suddenly they were almost the same height and the skin around his chin scars grew hair. 

It did not help Deglan that the younger witcher had many attributes that he found attractive.

So, he was suddenly more conscious of the yellow eyes following him and the other’s movements when they tackled each other in their never ending training fights. Y/N's gaze sometimes burned like molten iron and during late nights when he was dazed from too much alcohol, Deglan's hands itched to just slam the younger man against a wall and kiss him. 

But he tried to ignore these thoughts. 

He really tried, he did not want to let his loneliness cloud his judgement, he did not want to take advantage of Y/N's feelings and so he held himself back. He was an old man after all, compared to the h/c haired witcher. He really tried to stop the growing emotions in his chest.

Until Rennes told him that his group of disciples would finally go out on the Path. 

Spring was only weeks away and Deglan was suddenly confronted with the fact that Y/N would soon only rarely appear in his life. If he did not die out on the Path. Which he did not really believe would happen, the young h/c haired witcher was the best among the ones he trained but still- 

He could not stop himself from worrying. Nightmares about finding Y/N's dead body out in the mountains began to torment his sleep. And his resolve wavered.

The prospect of seeing the man only once or twice a year for a few weeks upset him. He knew that witchers usually grew apart like this, especially if they were “only” mentor and apprentice. He did not want that. He did not want to see Y/N change and become a stranger in his eyes. 

Deep down he knew that he wanted to witness every little change, every new scar, every new freckle and wrinkle. 

He wanted to spend every minute, every second of the respite a witcher had in winter with the other man.

And then he remembered his past. His own sad attempts at finding love. He had pined for someone before, he yearned with the patience of thousand men and waited until that person finally realized his feelings. 

It took a long time but they were reciprocated. They had spent two years together and he would sneak out of Kaer Morhen every week to see the man at the foot of the mountain. 

He had been younger back then and believed he had all the time in the world to spend it with the one he liked. But then his lover died in an accident. And Deglan finally realized that life was fragile and as a witcher his was maybe better spent killing monsters and making coins.  

At least that was what he thought until that dumb fool with h/c hair and heart-eyes sprouted from a lad into a charming man and pinned him to the ground in one of their last fights before the end of his student’s training.

Y/N laughed heartily, he was out of breath and Deglan could feel it from the slightly vibrating blade that touched his throat. Under the sun the h/c haired man looked mesmerizing and Y/N being on top of him ignited something in his heart.

He studied his face, the pale scars on his cheeks, his sharp jaw which showed even more signs of a growing beard, the bridge of his nose that was like no other, his adam’s apple where a drop of sweat was running down and after he looked up after the few seconds that had passed, Y/N’s pupils had become fully blown and the air between them shifted.

He gulped and before his student could say anything, he pushed Y/N’s blade away and slowly sat upright, giving the other the chance to pull away from him. The younger witcher downcast his eyes when he moved away and Deglan could basically feel his insecurity.

“It’s my loss” he sighed and took Y/N’s hand to stand up. He held onto him for a bit longer and when he finally let go he had made a decision.

He would not wait anymore. 

He was done waiting and hoping something would change. He waited enough for the universe to change its mind, to tell him no, they were not meant to be, but now it was his turn and he would make sure that Y/N would become his better half. 

Yet, he didn’t immediately walz up to the other’s room and kiss him. No, he painfully decided to wait for the other to come find him. If he wanted to change his mind. It was one last chance for the other. But deep down Deglan knew, Y/N wouldn’t change his mind. He would come and confess. He was absolutely certain.

He knew that it would happen soon. He had noticed the looks of the younger witcher, he knew that Y/N wanted to tell him something as well. He could guess what it was. And that knowledge only stoked the burning desire in his chest further.

But then destiny had to be a massive twat and told him 'fuck you' straight to his face by making him go on a hunt a month before Y/N and his friends would leave on the Path. 

When Rennes had called him to his room that night he should have felt that something would happen. But he did not, he was too occupied with the idea of Y/N finally addressing the tension between them and maybe a little bit nervous about it too, not that he would tell anyone that. 

"I need you to go on a hunt." 

Rennes had not noticed his expression that night because it was too dark in the room but his face said something along the lines of 'are you fucking with me right now?' 

He did not want to go anywhere. He had been staying in Kaer Morhen for months more than the other witchers because it was his turn to train the younger generations - especially after he brought home that Vesemir boy - and now after he finally got his shit together and knew what he wanted, he had to leave for a hunt?! Why couldn’t any of the others go?! Why now?!

But Rennes did not allow any complaining and so he sent him on a particular job with two other witchers Finn and Olav - two younger ones who had gotten in trouble before because they were raging drunkards and he was supposed to supervise them to prove that they could get their shit together. 

Deglan was pissed. 

But it was alright. He could be patient for a few more days. That would also allow him to choose his words carefully and to restrain himself from just pouncing on Y/N when he saw the man. 

However, in the end, it wasn't alright. 

The nobles who ordered the hunt were a couple he knew. A sickly old man and a young lady who watched him with hot eyes. They had met once before when he was ordered to their castle to find the reason why their servants would disappear and show up dead. 

He was younger back then and the lady's eyes used to follow his every move even back then. 

He knew she was attracted to him since she begged him to protect her in her bed chambers. He had been a bigger fool in the past and did what she demanded because she was nobility and he was born piss-poor and the respect for the aristocracy wasn't yet beaten out of him by years of slaying monsters for sleazy whoresons. 

So he spent the night in her room and she basically dragged him to lay with her. He complied and sat on the bed while she tried to charm him but that was as far as he went. He used Axii on her and she spent the night in a confused daze while he worried about other things. 

That was all that really happened with that noblewoman but when Olav and Finn noticed the looks she gave him they tried to squeeze out any kind of gossip from him and when he told them the gist of what had occured in the past, their dirty minds formed their own opinions.

And it came around to bite him in the ass when they had returned to Kaer Morhen and Olav loudly declared that he was probably fucking that noblewoman.

That night the Evening hall was full of witchers and so he did not spot Y/N at first. 

He was casually playing with the fabric in the bag around his hip: On his way back they had encountered a merchant and instead of buying an intact shirt, he haggled with the man for some cloth as a present for Y/N, cerulean blue or whatever was the shade called by the fella. He felt like it would be meaningful to gift the other man something. 

That thought calmed his annoyance a bit but then Olav had to open his fucking mouth and mess up everything.

The comment made his heart skip a beat and he hoped that the object of his affection wasn’t there to hear it. But fate was a bitch and he picked up Barmin's worried voice in the bustling hall with his mutated hearing. 

He searched for him with his eyes and spotted Y/N right when he was leaving his table. 

His yellow eyes were glazed over and Deglan had a bad premonition. He called out to the h/c haired witcher but Y/N ignored him and left the hall in a hurry.

Deglan could count two and two together, especially when he saw Barmin stare at him from across the hall with scrutinizing eyes. 

He cursed loudly in his head and gave Olav a death stare before leaving the hall to look for the man who stole his heart, all while ignoring Rennes’ stupid commentary about his lack of interest in women. 

He needed to make things right, to tell Y/N it was a misunderstanding but the younger man was good at hiding and he did not find him in the end. 

The next day he tried to search for the other as well and the next, but that fucker seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to him because the witcher disappeared whenever he found him or flocked with other people to hide. 

Deglan did not want to approach him when he was with others because rumours spread faster in Kaer Morhen than in a group of washerwomen. And he had a feeling that if he wanted to separate Y/N from a group, the other would protest loudly. 

So he waited. Waited patiently for Y/N to calm down and act like a rational man for a goddamn second. 

And then he thought he finally had a chance to talk to the object of his desire.

One evening, he came across the h/c man in the courtyard. Deglan realized immediately that Y/N was drunk, but he expected him to be at least aware of his surroundings and actions, as witchers rarely experienced a truly drunk state but that apparently was not the case this time. 

The younger witcher leaned on him for support and buried his head against his throat. Deglan could feel his breath on his skin and the slightly agitated rhythm sent a jolt right through his body. 

He wanted to talk to him, he saw the opportunity to fix their misunderstanding, the change of their lives was in reach but-

Y/N had to throw up and he had to clean the witcher and carry him to his chambers. And once again fate told him to go fuck himself.

That night he left Y/N’s room and leaned on his door. He growled in frustration. 

“Tomorrow will bring another chance,” he told himself.

But another chance never came and then it was already time for the younger man and his friends to leave the keep for the Path. 

Deglan was furious and hurt and frantic and losing his mind from all that fucking waiting. 

But he would be patient. He was set on loving that man, on having a future with him. He would never let him go. Therefore he would be diligent some more and torture himself for three seasons. And then he would confess. Fuck Y/N, it was his turn. He would make things right.

The thoughts of Y/N by his side would be calming enough for him to endure spring, summer and autumn. Winter would bring relief with its cold days and Deglan could not wait for the snow to soothe his burning desire. 

That Friday morning, the sun illuminated Y/N's hair like a halo and Deglan clenched his fists to stop himself from just walking up to the fool and dragging him behind the stables. 

He did not want him to leave. His patience was especially wearing thin today and so he could not stop himself from walking up to the witcher right when Y/N wanted to mount his horse. The thought of the other just leaving, without a word to him, made him growl inwardly. 

He patted Lisica's flank, the chestnut-coloured mare he personally picked for Y/N all those years ago. 

The nostalgia made his eyes a little wet and he squinted them before he looked at the h/c haired man before him. 

"Are you leaving without saying goodbye to your mentor?", he said and tried to add a teasing tone when he saw the tension in Y/N's shoulders. The younger man avoided his eyes and stared at the ground, allowing Deglan to see his ears redden. 

Shit, he loved that bastard. He loved him so much that his knees weakened when he saw the shy reaction of the other man. That fool was in love with him, did he not see that he returned his feelings?! 

He really wanted to shake him by the shoulders. 

If Y/N could not see it, he would just straight up tell him. Next year. 

And he told him that with a determined tone. He would make sure that the h/c haired man got it. 

He could barely wait. He really wanted to cup Y/N's face in his hands and softly trace his scars before kissing all of them but that thought got interrupted by Rennes and he sighed. 

Three more seasons. He could endure that. He would. For the things that would come after. 

He petted Lisica again as a few very intimate scenes flashed before his mind. Oh yes, he would endure that torture. And then he would pay it back. Ten folds. A grin flashed on his lips and he nodded to himself, already imagining the ways he would get back at Y/N. 

He listened to the end of Rennes' speech and glanced at the younger witcher. 

If Y/N would not come back next winter... He dismissed the thought, that would not happen. That could not happen. Some of his nightmares flashed before his eyes and he bit his lip. 

No, he would be fine. 

Deglan took a step back as the other finally sat on his horse, but when Y/N appeared to just lead Lisica away, he ended up grabbing him by the wrist, stopping him. 

He needed a second to formulate his thoughts after he saw the alarmed expression of the other and an idea crossed his mind. 

He took out the expensive cerulean cloth from his bag, he had been carrying it around in the last few days like a treasure. He carefully tied it around the man’s wrist and told him to return safely because they had to talk.

You need to take care of yourself. If you die... 

“This is a promise that you return unharmed”, he softly said and his tone quivered.

His heart hurt and he allowed himself to trace Y/N's artery with his thumb, feeling his pulse. He was alive and well and he would be when he returned. 

Then he let go and patted Lisica's neck. She would take care of the dumbass, he knew it. 

She knew it as well as she whinnied and he sighed. 

His group of apprentices started moving and he waved at his former apprentices. He watched as they traversed the bridge and with every step of Lisica, Y/N moved away from his reach. 

Now he would have to wait. He bit his lip as frustration welled up in him. 

Why did he always have to wait?

Someone grabbed him by his shirt sleeve. It was Vesemir, the young boy he more or less brought with him after another hunt a few months ago. 

"How many of them will return?"

His eyes were dark as he watched Y/N's retreating back.

"All of them."

Then he left. Before he regretted his decision to allow the man he loved to leave.

He did end up regretting it. So much. 

Two whole fucking years.

He was about to go crazy. 

Birke, he thought. Six more weeks. Until then he would endure and after that... Y/N would have to prepare himself.

[sojutrait]

( @itsmariejanel ) THE WAY ITS BEEN SO LONG IDEK WHAT THIS IS ABOUT but whatever it is IM INNOCENT I SWEAR

no literally, the thought of random ppl having my babies send me in a cold shiver, thats why all my sim dump sims are randos that im not attached to jdkdfjk 

( @lake-lunvik ) SHE HAS A GIANT GASH ON HER FACE AND THE EARTH’S ATMOSPHERE IS TOXIC, SHE’S ON HER LAST LEGS AT THE BEGINNING OF THE STORY I FEAR-

i think its a bit diff than my og style (mostly the sims are actually good looking now djfhdjkf) but yeah! reject modernity embrace tradition kdfjd 

( @aomi-nabi ) AAAAAAAAA i swear ur asks make my whole day I HOPE YOURE DOING AMAZING TOO MWAHHHH 😭😭💓💓💓💓

KDJKDDKFJ dw i accept that compliment alot bc its a STRUGGLE making this game look playable sometimes i swear-

after the stds and fights i dont think thats a viable solution at the moment KJDFK 😭😭😭

its just a tag that i use to redirect to on my actual blog so u can see my posts and not shit posts, asks, or rbs

yeah she is!!

yup! his roomie is dove

STOPDFKJDJFKFKD both are taking upwards to a year- 

( @aurore95 @hadesdyke ) I LOVE HOW U BOTH SENT THIS IM CRYINDHGFJD thank u sm, now im gonna make it my life mission to find this shirt and buy it

autumn is het so i dont think thats a possibility 💔but they should def pull a john tucker must die  

thank u sm!!!

thank u sm for asking!! im doing great just ungodly levels of busy 😭😭

TYYYY literally all my sims have rue hairs atp, she cant keep getting away with it 

DKJCKD ive never seen bobs burgers but this tempts me-

maybeeeeeeee, but it wouldnt have links bc i did that Once and i nearly fell over and died 

( @aomi-nabi ) NO TYYYY going down memory lane was so much fun omg

tbh i forget its even a thing half the time so by the time i remember my sims have like 10k points so i blow them on anything. also lots of mods use the reward trait system so it makes it look like theres more 

( @lake-lunvik ) just for this, im going on hiatus again and never coming back. 

( @pixelpeephole​ ) i dont really have a system tbh, i just kinda periodically go around and check if anyones gotten married or had any babies lmao. also checking recent neighborhood stories helps out bc theyll tell me 

IKK every couple weeks i get a large influx of rbs of it and i just Know it mustve gotten around again 😭😭

NO LITERALLY, hes in the deep abyss of the halabi lore iceberg 

hmmmm probably never on here bc theres a subset of simblr obsessed with me and want my head on a platter who will probably print the pic out and cover it in the blood of a lamb or smthn (but ive face revealed in the among us server dkfjdk) 

SEE ive been hearing about it but i havent started it yet omg, def gonna tune in after house of the dragon wraps up and i need something else to watch djfdk

[1kook]

skirt chasers — drabble iv

THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE ! SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_- RATING m (18+) WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf 

NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3

He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he’s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…” 

 Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane. 

 Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot. 

He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form. 

It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds. 

They were his favorite. 

Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this. 

God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month. 

But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity. 

As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings. 

He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream. 

But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. 

Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping. 

He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since! 

Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn’t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind. 

So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck. 

Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!

It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go. 

He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen. 

But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins. 

He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?” 

“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world. 

You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.” 

He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.” 

You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here. 

“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action. 

“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes. 

“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high. 

You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time. 

Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down. 

You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.” 

Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now. 

He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”

You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly. 

A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist. 

“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy. 

Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can. 

And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck. 

“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”

He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer. 

“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question. 

You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. 

“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.” 

You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides. 

A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.  

He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. “Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry. 

“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes. 

As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be. 

Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest. 

He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly. 

Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?” 

He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign. 

He strikes while the iron is still hot. 

It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion. 

Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort. 

“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months. 

However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it. 

Kinda. 

Probably. 

Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over. 

He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“

“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing. 

“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”

“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders. 

If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off. 

And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy. 

“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face. 

The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing. 

Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting. 

(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.) 

One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you. 

He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone. 

Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more. 

You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs. 

Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it. 

And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him. 

It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top. 

Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror. 

He’s never seen you like this before. 

Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life. 

He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips. 

And then something unforgivable happens. 

Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information. 

Your hand. 

The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness. 

Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face. 

He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant. 

Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.” 

It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.” 

You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”

“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him. 

“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.

A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him. 

Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip. 

You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now. 

The sympathy doesn’t last long.  

Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams. 

Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand. 

But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this. 

“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches. 

There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are. 

Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out. 

“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him. 

You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead. 

It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.” 

He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands. 

“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!) 

Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”

Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead. 

“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises. 

It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock. 

Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon. 

He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time. 

When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.” 

A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago. 

His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap. 

There was never a choice.

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