#actually super easy to read i might finish it pretty quick

[greenelight]

me    wanting    more    fantasy    aus    .    .    .    who    am    i    ?

[yeonbinwyd]

Helloooo can you do a fic of anyone? Can you do public sex with enha Sunghoon?

yessss omg

study buddies?

pairing: subfem!reader x softdom! Sunghoon

synopsis: You and Sunghoon are classmates. You asked him for help to study for an upcoming test and he asks for something in return.

genre (w/tags): smut, (minors dni), kinky sex, public sex, selfish sex, aggressive sex

a/n: Sunghoon gives me the vibes of a selfish lover when you first meet him but then I think once you get to know him he’s really tender so there might be a pt II to this

Word Count: 967

Park Sunghoon was not only gorgeous but had the highest grades in your class. That class was Impossibly hard but it just came easy to him. You were failing and your only option left was to ask him.

“Hey Sunghoon. Our professor said you might be a good person to ask for some help. Do you think you could help me study for the next test?” You ask him after class. He eyes you up and down before giving you an answer. He never really talked much in class either. That’s what made him a bit intimidating. He looks you dead in the eye.

“Ok are you free tomorrow after 9? I’ve got skating after my classes tomorrow. It usually goes late.” He says while packing up his things.

“Y-yeah S-sure how does the library sound? I could book a study room.” You suggest. He nods while tapping his phone on yours. His contact was instantly saved.

“I’ll text you when I finish up.” He grabs his things and takes off. Everyone did call him a little smug but you didn’t want to believe it. He was definitely cold.

It’s the next day at around 8:50. You’re not really on campus this late but it was a good time to study for the other classes you had. Your phone started to buzz.

“Finishing up here. I’ll meet you at the library in 15” The text from Sunghoon reads. He definitely keeps his promise. 15 mins passed and your phone buzzes again.

“I’m outside”

You go to meet him and you take him up to the study room you rented for the next couple of hours. He gets settled , taking his notes and text books out.

A couple hours go by and you two finish up the session. He was actually super helpful and really great to talk to. Half of the time you two just talk about life and his lack of one. Sunghoon sighs, resting back in his desk chair. He stretches, causally flexing his biceps. You couldn’t help but take them in and bite your lip. He notices you checking him out, doing the same in return. You were wearing a low cut top with tight jeans, who wouldn’t look.

“Hey..since I helped you, can you help me?” He asked as he slides his chair back from the table. He was manspread, arm propped on the armrest of the chair. His glasses at the tip of his nose, checking you out. His question sparked your curiosity.

“What you have in mind?” You asked in return. Sunghoon smirked while unzipping his jeans. He motioned you to come over to him while taking off his glasses. You obey and scoot closer to him. He grabs your face, assertively kissing your mouth. He pulls away.

“I’ve noticed you in class. You’re pretty hot. Especially in those short skirts you wear. I need help releasing some tension.” Sunghoon explains, hand on your thigh. He was very serious.

“I’m flattered. Yeah I’ll help you out.” You agreed leaning back in to kiss him. He pulls you onto his lap, grabbing your ass to stay in place. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck, really feeling the kiss. Your tongues collide, fighting for dominance. You couldn’t tell his stress wasn’t going to let him lose. You give him control then you feel him smirk in the kiss. He then starts sucking on your tongue and bottom lip.

“Mmmm I wish I could take my time with you” he apologizes then helps you to your feet. He quickly bends you over the desk, taking the condom from his pocket. While he frees his cock, you push your panties to your ankles but keeping your skirt on. If anyone knocks you can get dressed quick but it was so late so you doubt you were getting caught. He pushes your head into the table, still apply pressure, he slides in from behind. You both groan in unison. He keeps your back straight while gripping your wrists snug and begins to thrust. He keeps you flush against the table so no one will see you. As he thrusts into you, he feels your walls caving almost immediately. Sunghoon growls with each stroke, feeling you pull him in. He wants to speed up and really tear into you but desperately doesn’t want to get caught.

“The room is soundproof.” You reassured. He relaxes his shoulders, ready to let loose.

“Good” Sunghoon was towering over you and ready. His strokes become powerful and abrupt. You pant with each thrust becoming more aggressive each time he penetrates. Sex sounds fill the room but nothing escapes. The room was on the 22nd floor with a large glass window would show the whole room. He pulls you up, pressing you against the window ducking you low enough for no to see you in the building. Those who were bystanders on the street, could see it all. He pulls up your shirt causing your breasts to fall out and keeps with his strides. Your chest bounce with every stroke was making him insane. Sunghoon held them while pounding in you.

“You feel so g -good I don’t want to s-stop” he slurs his speech, his eyes rolling back. This overwhelming feeling was making you cry out but took him like a champ. You just wanted to help him take that stress away.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum” he pulls you by your wrist, giving those last few blows. His grip so strong, it leaves a bruise. You both shout as you cum together. Your cum dripping down your leg as Sunghoon pulls out. Sliding down the window to your knees, you feel the energy get drained out of you. He kisses your forehead.

“We’ll go to my place next time”

[paluding]

Owned Restaurant Profit Increase

Two versions to download:

-Double profit: SFS / GD

-Triple profit: SFS / GD

Choose only one version!

We all know how hard it is to maintain a restaurant business in The Sims 2, right? You barely make any money and, if you have some employees to get paid hourly, there's a good chance you'll even end up losing money. Well, once again I've been digging through the files for a while until I've found something to fix this issue. I have to say, this is not the ideal solution at all, but it still makes the business actually profitable, so I thought it might be worth sharing anyways. This tiny mod edits just one single BCON value, and it's super easy to tune to your liking! A lot of technical details, a tutorial on how to tune it, and a big testing research under the cut (bear with me please, I promise it's worth reading).

So the way an unmodded game moves money in a restaurant business goes like this: the moment your waiter puts the dish on the customer table, you get a small percentage of the price of the food deducted. Then, once the customer finishes eating, they pay you the full price of that food (based on how expensive or cheap you set your business). Simple enough, right? Ideally, the best solution would be increasing the price of the food, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't find those values anywhere. So what's left on the equation? Yup, that small percentage you get deducted first. I was lucky enough to find that one, so changing it to a negative value means you actually get extra paid first. And that money comes from nowhere, the customer doesn't pay extra, they only pay the price of the actual food. That works for me!

As a quick example, in a new business with 0 stars, if you keep the default price on average, you always gain 28 simoleons for serving a bowl of Mac N Cheese. However, you also get deducted 4 simoleons first, so it's actually 24 simoleons per customer. That's just sad. The Double version of my mod makes it so you get 22 simoleons first, and then the customer pays those 28 simoleons. That's a total of 50 simoleons per customer. More than double the profit, not bad! The Triple version gives you a total of 71, pretty self explanatory. The numbers don’t match exactly with double or triple profits, but I didn’t want to spend that much time finding the exact value to make it exactly double or triple, you know, especially considering there might be other factors that affect your business income. I’m not that good at maths to be honest... orz

So how do you tune this? All you need is SimPe. Open the package, click on the BCON file and edit line number 14, on the Dec box. The default Maxis value was 20. I changed it to -100 to get roughly double the profit, and -200 to get triple profit. If you want to increase the profit even more, make sure you keep it negative when changing the value! Then just click Commit and Save. Done!

One extra note before I continue. The extra money you get with the mod does count for the balance you see on the UI menu for the business on the top right. So if you like to keep track of your income, the mod will take effect on those bars. However, it won’t count for things like the First Simoleon prize thingy. So for now I’m not really sure if this extra money would count for other things such as Lifetime Wants related to gaining money. I haven’t tested it that much.

Okay, now you know almost everything you need to know about this mod. If you want to read some ramblings on how I tested this, keep reading. Otherwise, you’re good to go!

So, let’s talk testing, because that’s something I actually enjoy doing. I built a simple restaurant lot, with about 5 tables available. The conditions were:

-3 Sims from my household to work as host, waiter and chef. No external employees, so I don’t need to keep track of extra salaries to pay.

-Schedule is roughly 15:00 - 22:00.

-New business level 0. Prices were kept at the default average.

-I didn’t use the Basic Sell interaction. If the customer didn’t want to eat at my restaurant, then so be it.

-The chef had 10 points of cooking skill, so I could add any food to the menu. However, I only chose one food to cook to keep the profit numbers as consistent as possible.

For the first case, I chose cooking only Mac N Cheese, a very cheap food that makes almost no money at all. It doesn’t require any cooking skill points. Mac N Cheese gives you 28 simoleons when the Sim pays. -In an unmodded game, you also lose 4 simoleons, so it’s 24 simoleons per customer. After running the business for the set schedule, I got 240 simoleons of profit. Pretty disappointing! If I had employees to pay, I would only have a few simoleons to spare, if any at all. -With my Double version of the mod, you get an extra 22 simoleons, making a total of 50 simoleons per customer. After running the business with the mod in, I got 400 simoleons. Not much, but hey, it’s something.

For the second case, I chose Filet Mignon. This food is pretty fancy, and it requires max cooking skill. Filet Mignon gives you 83 simoleons when the Sim pays. I also noticed the customers take way less time to eat it compared to the Mac N Cheese, so that’s an extra bonus to make the business run faster. -In an unmodded game, you also lose 13, so it’s 70 simoleons per customer. After running the business, I got 630 simoleons of profit. Not bad, but considering you need to max out the cooking skill, it’s almost insulting spending so many hours just to get that… -With my Double version of the mod, you get an extra 65 simoleons, making a total of 148 (!) simoleons per customer. After running the business with the mod in, I got 1036 simoleons. Okay, nooow we’re talking! That's the fancy restaurant status I like to see.

You might be wondering why these numbers are so inconsistent. Well, sometimes my lovely waiter decided to drop the tray on the customers, poor guy. That added to the randomness of how customers decide to enter the restaurant or not, and if the game sits more than one customer on the table or just one of them, if someone gets stuck for a while losing time… all of that can end up making the results a bit inconsistent. That being said, I had better luck when I was running the business without the mod in, yet I still got quite a lot more money with the mod in. I didn’t keep track of the numbers for the Triple version, but as you can probably guess, that one would be even more profitable.

One last case I wanted to test and compare: a completely different type of business, a games and entertainment one using the Bandatron ticket machine. In that scenario, I got 21 simoleons per customer, each hour. So after that schedule of 15:00 - 22:00, I got a total of 789 simoleons! All my sim did during those hours was bartending. That shows how easy it is to run a business with a ticket machine, and the biggest advantage is that you don’t have to pay employees if you don’t need them, and you don’t need any skills at all. Just plop down that machine, put some objects, relax and let the money flow by itself.

So yeah, in conclusion, Eaxis really messed up programming the restaurant businesses, there’s no doubt about it. Hopefully my mod helps balance things out. And if you think it's still too low on the incomes department, you can always tune it to your liking! As far as I know, this should not conflict with anything, but if you run into any issues, let me know and I’ll try my best to fix it asap.

Special thanks to EddySims for their fantastic HQ Icon Pack I used to make the preview pic! <3

[msmargaretmurry]

any advice on how to not get overwhelmed at the prospect of writing a longer fic? 😭😭 i freak myself out with “ohhh what if i get too far in and then it turns out it sucks” and “i’ll have to do so much research for certain canon compliant things” etc etc

hi anon! i would be happy to share some of the things that work for me! we all know i love to talk incessantly about writing. thank you for giving me an excuse to. ❤

standard writing advice disclaimer that this is indeed all just stuff that works for me personally. it might not work for you, or you might have to tweak it to work for you, because different things work for different people! like all writing advice, it is best approached as suggestions and not as rules, so while i think this is all stuff worth trying, i also think that if you find it doesn't work with how your writing brain works, you should absolutely chuck it out the window.

firstly: get comfortable with the idea that the story is going to evolve as you write it. when you're writing something long, you ARE going to get far into it and realize you fucked something up at the begininning, or realize you left something out, or realize you need to change or cut something from earlier for the story to work. this does NOT mean that you're writing badly! recognizing those things is actually super smart of you! you are not beholden to what you wrote a week ago or a month ago or six months ago in your WIP. you can simply change it to better suit this story that you now know more about. no one will even know that you originally wrote it differently except maybe your alpha reader or pal you've been bouncing ideas off of, and they're legally required* to take that information to their grave. i will touch a little more on editing long fic in a minute, but i really do think this is maybe the most important piece of advice: accept that your story will change as you write, and think of it as a good thing.

(*i am not a lawyer)

writing your long fic is going to take a long time. that's a huge part of what makes it such a nerve-wracking undertaking! writing long fic is dedicating a huge amount of time and energy to a creative project that you have a lot of feelings about, and it can be really hard! but it can also be so rewarding and so worth it to see all that work turn into the story that you really wanted to tell. just the sense of accomplishment of FINISHING a long-term project like that is really cool and gratifying. it's so easy to fall into the trap of thinking "what if i put in all this work and then it sucks" but i think it's helpful to try to reframe that thought as something like "i'm going to put all this work in and learn so much about this story, and figure out how to make it the best that i can make it at this stage in my writing journey."

also, again: your first draft is not going to be perfect. it might be deeply, deeply flawed. you ARE going to have to edit. that doesn't mean you were writing badly. that is a normal and even essential part of writing. your story doesn't suck if the first draft is kinda fucked up. your story is NORMAL if the first draft is kinda fucked up. especially with long fic, getting the story out and then editing holistically to make it all work is really where the magic happens.

(i know there are people who post chapter by chapter while they write instead of writing the whole thing and editing it altogether; i cannot speak to their processes because i cannot write like that 😂)

if you are lucky enough to have a trusted friend or two willing to read as you write, cheerlead, and help you pick through tough spots in the story, i do recommend you take them up on it! because it can take so long to write a long fic, having people who are excited about your story and to provide that gratification can be really helpful. two things to keep in mind here are to make sure your alpha-readers are people you can trust not to flake on you and who will be reliably able to give pretty quick feedback, and to try to resist the urge to call on them to read every single time you write more. i usually go to mine in 5–10k chunks of long fic draft. obviously this isn't a hard and fast rule at all, but i think it a) gives them meatier chunks of story to give me feedback on and b) helps me get and stay comfortable with writing for longer periods without feedback, so i can concentrate more on the story and be less distracted thinking about how other people will react to it.

on the research front: research can be really daunting!! unfortunately i am a nerd who loves research so i usually see it as a fun challenge. but i think there are a couple of things that might help. when you're getting ready to dive into your long fic, make a list of things you're going to need to research, then divide them into things that you NEED to know to write the story (e.g. dates of important games, for pacing reasons) and things that can wait until after you get the first draft down and are editing. like, if you're writing something set in a city you're not familiar with and want to include local details, you don't need to do that research up front. use placeholder tags to fill in during editing — [RESTAURANT] or [STREET NAME] or [DESCRIPTION TO COME AFTER I LOOK AT GOOGLE STREET VIEW] — or just leave yourself a note to come back and add descriptive details later.

also, remember that fic readers are often super willing to let some inaccuracies slide for the sake of a good story, so it's okay if not everything is perfect! you are also allowed to elect to ignore canon when it does not serve you. like, in HAW, i simply said hello we are pretending that matthew re-signed in calgary, that there were no notable roster changes from the previous season, and, on a smaller potatoes level, that brady is still living with timmy and josh. because that's what i wanted for my story (and also because the matthew trade to florida happened when i was already about 70k into the draft and i was like, fuck it, we're doing it anyway 😂). which is all to say that it's okay and even good to find a balance between doing research/committing to accuracy and saying fuck it for the sake of your story.

on the editing front: try to limit the amount of editing you do while you're writing. you can get so caught up in forever tweaking what you've already written that your forward progress completely stagnates. leave most of your line-editing for after you have a draft. if you notice something that you want to change, leave yourself a note and do the actual changing after you have a draft. if you notice thousands of words in that you totally forgot that one character has a dog, leave yourself a note to go add the dog in later, and continue writing as if the dog has been there the whole time. no one will know that the dog in the first half was added in later.

the amount of STUFF that goes into a long fic can feel pretty overwhelming, so i am big on leaving myself notes and making lists when writing long fic. i know i am not going to remember every thought i have, but i know i will TRY TO remember them and will get totally bogged down. leaving a note or making a list de-bogs me so i can come back to that detail when it's time to deal with it. two essenital lists that i keep in my notes app while i'm working on a writing project are:

a list of ongoing subplots, themes, motifs, and/or mini-arcs that i want to make sure i thread evenly throughout the fic. i do not trust myself to remember these without writing them down. this is super helpful especially if i get stuck, because i can go to the list and ask, okay, what is one of these that i haven't revisited in a while, because that should probably happen next. a HAW example of this is quinn as a side character — at least once i looked at my list and was like, oh, quinn hasn't shown up in a while! i should figure out how to do a scene with him next!

a list of things i will want to review and edit for after i finish the draft. if i stop and edit in the moment i lose momentum; if i don't write the thing down, i might forget about it. so i'll just quickly add it to the list and be able to go back to it when it's editing time! a HAW example of this is me writing on this list "make it more clear that matthew is kind of a mama's boy" and eons later paying close attention to that thread in editing and adding a little more of their relationship to the story.

again this is not a hard and fast rule! sometimes i'll run into an issue with my fic and be like, oh no if i don't go back and fix this then i won't be able to figure out how the story needs to go from here. so obviously in those instances i immediately go and edit that thing! i think it takes practice to be able to tell the difference between "edit now" issues and "edit later" issues but i also think that like 90% of the time it's an edit later issue.

also, always keep a dump doc. (instead of deleting stuff from your draft, cut and paste it into a separate document for safekeeping. this makes it easier to kill your darlings since you are not actually killing them but re-homing them, and can come in handy later.)

one last thing i want to touch on is writer's block or getting stuck in the middle of a draft. with shorter stories, you can sometimes get them out in one or two creative bursts and this can be less of an issue (although obviously not NOT an issue. i am not trying to suggest that people writing shorter fic don't deal with this, lmao. the scale is just different.) writing something long is more about sustained creativity over a long stretch of time, and you are going to have highly productive periods and less productive periods because you're a human being who needs to refill their creative well sometimes. when this happens, try not to panic or despair. sometimes you run into a snarl in your story and you really just need to take a few days to ponder and let the solution come to you. however, if you get stuck and you are getting frustrated trying to figure out what comes next, here are a few things that i find helpful:

get outside and go for a walk or a run. listen to music or a podcast or audiobook. let your brain relax.

talk to a (fannish) friend over the phone/videochat or in person about it, over coffee or dinner or something. sometimes talking about it out loud helps process things in a different way than typing.

figure out what the next big plot point you want to get to is, and then look at where your story is now, and think about what needs to happen to get them to that point. does character A need to trust character B more? devise a trust-building scene. does character A need more self-confidence? think about what kind of scene would help them build confidence.

(this might also involve looking at what you've written already and going, oh, i could build that character beat into that scene from last week! and suddenly everything works better.)

go to your dump doc — is there an abandoned snippet or idea in there that's of more use to you now?

look at your list of ongoing themes and subplots! if there's one you haven't touched in the draft for a while, figure out what's going on there!

you might not get it right on the first try and that's fine. there are scenes that i've completely re-written 4–5 times before they felt right enough for me to move forward. that can be frustrating, obviously, but it doesn't mean you're a bad writer! it takes skill to recognize when a scene isn't working!

okay, i think that's all i've got for now. i really do think that the most important thing with writing long fic is to embrace that it's going to be a long-term project, with ups and downs, productive periods and recharging periods. let the story grow and evolve as you write it. you're not going to get everything right on the first try and that's normal. it is actually so fun to be writing a scene in the back half of your story and suddenly realize you can pull the whole plot together way better by adding two sentences into a scene you wrote three months ago. writing a long fic is not like digging a tunnel, all forward progress to get to the light. it's like building a house and then rearranging the furniture and decor inside until it looks and feels the way you want it to.

i hope that some of this was helpful! good luck with your writing!! 💕

[someonelookingpraediti]

Currently Reading...

The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards

The Last Sun

These have been cropping up on my radar for a while, and they looked like a quick, easy read, which is what I wanted. Well, they're weren't that quick, but they were easy.

When I first started this book, it seemed like exactly the kind of "teen dross" my friend always accuses me of reading. The main character is the most specialist boy who ever did live, he lives in the magical city of Atlantis, and he has glowing orange eyes, and super duper magic powers, and his bodyguard is his bestest friend ever. Almost immediately, I was like... this is not for me.

But then! Then the plot kicked in! It got good, and fast.

I'm pretty sure I guessed who the big bad of the trilogy is like, a couple of chapters in, but I'm super hoping I'm totally wrong, because I'd like to be completely surprised by the ending! I'm also guessing (hoping, praying,) that Max and Quinn get together, because they'd be the cutest couple ever!

The Hanged Man

I think this is going to be one of those series I need to buy physical copies of! I've already ordered a special edition of the first in the spin-off series, but the only editions I can find of the original trilogy are paperback. The covers look cool, though, so I might just get the paperbacks.

This one was absolutely as good as the first - it's incredible how the big climactic finale starts like, halfway through the book, and somehow doesn't lose pace, it just continues to build and build, despite being so long! This is an author who can keep you gripped!

I'm absolutely smitten with Max; and I am now just waiting for the revelation that Brand was involved (unwittingly, unknowingly) in the attack on the Sun Court/Rune, which is definitely coming.

The Hourglass Throne

I start the third book in my trash fantasy trilogy... and they're dealing with Covid. Seriously? I read fantasy specifically to escape the real world! It's supposed to be totally believable that the humans discovered Atlantis sixty years ago and fought a massive world-changing war against them, and now Atlantis is in Nantucket. But it would just be too unrealistic if they just didn't mention the pandemic in this unspecified timeline? His boyfriend has burgundy eyes and a metal prosthetic hand with magic powers, but sure, two metres apart. I just want his problems to be like, fantasy problems, not my problems.

Anyway.

So, it did not end the way I thought it would. In fact... it didn't really end at all. It felt like the book had finished, but not the series. He's still got to get the Tower back. He's still got to fulfil his HUGE new prophecy we've just found out about. He still has six of his nine attackers to discover, hunt down, and brutally murder. Is this... not a trilogy? Maybe there are going to be more books?

I was totally wrong about the person who organised the attack on him/his court. From the very first time he was mentioned, I was convinced that Lord Tower had actually orchestrated it all, and was playing the biggest double cross of all time. And then it turns out to be... well... no, I'm not sure? Was it meant to be Lady Time? Or do we still not know? There has got to be more books, because this really didn't explain anything.

My other guess from the first book was that Max and Quinn would get together. It hasn't happened, but the spin-off series is based around them, I believe, so there's time. I'm also so heartbroken that Quinn lost his powers, and I'm hoping he gets them back in the spin-off. Quinn is, easily, hands down, no question, the best character of the series, I absolutely adore him. I cannot, cannot wait to read his book!

Postscript.

Holy shit, I just looked it up and this isn't even nearly a trilogy! There are NINE books planned for the series, what the actual fuck. I thought I was going into a completed series! I can't believe I'm going to have to wait, what? six? ten? years for the series to be finished?! This will not do, I'm obsessed!

[dreamtydraw]

Glub Glub

HAHA I’ve made it back home to my fishbowl!!! And guess what~ I played through all of your games! (I finished at.. 2 AM fishy time… I’m very sleepy lmao) I have oh so many thoughts about them all… >:) Ramble incoming! Apologies for the atrociously long ask and grammatical errors-

I played the games in order of release so first up was Night Shift, which was such a fun and quick play!! I loved how it sorta just throws you into this confusing supernatural world and is just like “You’re stuck in a time loop, good luck!”. I tend to go into video games expecting them to be super difficult for me, especially when they involve choice, so at the start I was listening to Françoise’s instructions like a hawk 👁️👁️, the atmosphere of the game was so cool too, the little inconsistencies in logic was so cool to watch unfold (I vividly remember reading the bit where the MC picks up the axe and flipping out cause “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE THAT!! THE GAME SAID DON’T DO THAT YOU IDIOT!!”) I forget the actual word for it but the entire setting really gave of the feeling of being in a huge place that’s typically filled with people but is for some reason deserted.. well except for Sam. Speaking of! Sammy’s fun I loved them! I was so intrigued as to what their whole deal was, like how did they get there? Why are they there? Whats up with them and Françoise and the whole “Deary” thing?? Overall it was such a short but sweet experience and a very nice introduction into the Paranormal Club world

Next was Apple Bag! I was actually originally going to play this last cause of its open ending, but I figured since it came out directly after Nightshift, I might as well just play it right then and there. This was also tons of fun! I actually really liked the MC’s personality a lot, I dunno why but their dialogue and thoughts were just fun to read through. I played through the mystery strangers route (I swear to god their name was said somewhere but I cannot for the life of me remember what it was) and it was a good time! I love their design a whole lot and it was funny seeing them get introduced as this terrifying menacing stranger to chill and sleepy customer, funnily enough when the MC kept describing them as really scary I was pretty confused as to why, then I realized that I kinda tend to act a lot like the stranger when I’m going out sooooo.. no wonder I didn’t find them all too spooky. The mystery of the literal apple bag and Sammy’s disappearance was also really fun to see, I wonder if it’s talking about Nightshift? Idk, I’m not a theory making expert so who knows! I’m just eager to watch the story unfold!

Next up Tulipe! The creation of this game was when I really first started seeing your Paranormal Club stuff so needless to say I was really excited to finally play it, and boy was I not disappointed!! Getting to see Achik in action was so so nice considering he’s the one that really got me into Paranormal Club. The game overall just had this constant feeling of fleeting bittersweetness? If that makes sense? And I mean that in a good way, I loved how the story (when doing the good endings) were sweet overall but kind of had this melancholic tint to it that I couldn’t ignore, kinda reminded me of my time playing blooming panic if that makes sense. I played through every single ending cause they were easy and quick enough to get and every single one of them was great! The good ending where you tell Achik the truth about why you approached him was, predictably, my favourite ending, I actually liked how you don’t really become besties by the end of it and remain as friends who are close but ultimately aren’t ever gonna deepen the relationship. The other good ending was also very nice but man did I feel awful telling Achik I only pursued him for his looks, it made me feel so bad I for the poor guy. And getting the bad endings? Man. Being generally mean in games already makes me feel terrible, so in Tulipe where I flat out have to use manipulation and spike someone’s drink???? YIKES. All I have to say to that is thank god I can consider it wildly non canon! (I didn’t know where to say it, but Achik’s sunglasses make me giggle, they look so goofy in a good way!)

And lastly, I played 21 Questions…. *sob* Clem… love of my life… I finally got to be with you like I always dreamt!!!! Yeah, jokes aside as you can probably tell Clem’s become my #1 fav of Paranormal Club. He’s just so cute and lovable and relatable! I could rant about my love for them for hours. I adored how down to earth the story and its characters were, and my heart goes out to everyone on the dev team for breathing so much life into the game. Clem and Aurore are such fun characters to watch interact and I never doubted for a second that they were best friends! The duo also really remind me of myself and people I know irl so I was like “Yeah I’d fit right in with these too if they were real” the whole time. Speaking of relatability, boy did Clem’s vent scene hit so hard- it feels weird to say but I just adored how depressing that scene was, not to get personal but Clem’s entire vent just reminded me exactly of myself, like I’ve had the exact thoughts that they had, so the entire time I was ugly sobbing right there with Clem, it felt nice, cathartic too. I always really appreciate any piece of media that’s able to do that, so Clem’s kinda become pretty special to my heart <3

Every single one of these games was an absolute delight to play through, they’re all filled with so much love and care that I can’t help but admire each and every one of them. I hope you and everyone you’ve worked with on your games are proud of what you’ve made and know that they’re all such amazing experiences :) Whenever you decide to make your next project (after a nice and healthy break), know that your fish anon will be right here in my fishbowl ready to support you!

And with that I must take my leave and turn in for the night, I’m so ready to knock out. Goodnight!

-🐟

First off… OH MY GOD

Your ask has been screened and sent to the other teams member + added to my personal gallery to remember because oh my 😭😭😭

I can’t put words on how much this ask feels to me, like, this is the reason i want to make art it’s for people to enjoy but i always doubt myself and like having point blank long comments about enjoying the biggest projects i worked on in my life so far is like- so important to me thanks you so much fish anon thank you !!! ( this is all i’ll be seing when i goes to sleep )

I’m really glad you liked the game, even nighshift ! This games is in my standard bad and i aim to remake it one day but i’m glad you add fun.

Answering some of the questions :

Yes Sam from nighshift and Sam from apple bag are the same person ! That why you meet erinna in both game. The events also happen at the same période.

The stranger’s name is Leila and they go by they/them.

The canon ending of tulipe is the first good ending :}

I will be taking a break as a dev yeah disidod need some rest.

Hope you’re also resting well !!!

Tons of love fish anon and again multiples thank you for not only playing my games but taking the time to writte all of this. It warms my heart and i’m grateful for your message. ❤️

[f1]

Albon admits to some head scratching at Williams after unexpected practice display at Silverstone

Williams drivers Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant expressed their surprise – and urged caution – over the Grove team’s high-flying performance on the opening day of practice for the British Grand Prix. Albon featured inside the top-three positions during both of Friday’s sessions at Silverstone, finishing behind only Max Verstappen’s Red Bull and Carlos Sainz’s Ferrari on the combined timesheets, while Sargeant joined him at the sharp end with a run to fifth in second practice. FP2: Verstappen tops second practice at Silverstone from Sainz and Albon as Leclerc hits trouble It comes after a raft of updates were applied the FW45, which aided Albon’s push for P7 in Canada – lifting Williams above AlphaTauri and off the foot of the F1 standings – and led to another competitive display in Austria. Speaking after hopping out of the car, Albon said: “It was a bit surprising in some ways. I have to say unexpected, you know. We’re not playing around doing weird things, it’s just a normal day for us. “Clearly, we crossed the line and we’re in the top three, so a bit of – in some ways – head scratching, but at the same time the car feels good. We’ve got an upgrade on the car that we’ve had for two races now. This feature is currently not available because you need to provide consent to functional cookies. Please update your cookie preferences FP2 Highlights: 2023 British Grand Prix “At least on the simulator it’s shown to be a bit more effective in the high-speed than the low-speed, and we haven’t really had too much high-speed tracks the last few races – Austria and Canada aren’t really that. “It’s the first time we’ve seen the package working on a quick circuit and it’s looking quite good. But we’ve got to keep ourselves grounded, it’s [about] chipping away. NEED TO KNOW: The most important facts, stats and trivia ahead of the 2023 British Grand Prix “The wind, the way that it is this weekend, it’s so strong, I think everyone… It doesn’t feel good around here, I think it feels terrible for everyone, but clearly less terrible for us than others, so let’s see.” As for where Williams might stack up on Saturday, Albon pointed to the mixed weather report, saying: “Tomorrow is going to be likely wet for a little bit. I hope it stays dry, I hope it’s similar weather to this, but let’s see what happens tomorrow. “But still the focus is on Sunday, because overtaking here is pretty easy, so you need a good race car. Our race pace was actually OK; it wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t bad.” Albon placed third in both practice sessions at Silverstone on Friday Sargeant echoed Albon’s remarks as he looks to build on an encouraging weekend at the Red Bull Ring last time out and edge towards what would be a maiden F1 points finish. “It didn’t feel super smooth out there, to be honest,” he admitted. “This wind has been causing us a lot of issues, but I think it’s been the same for everyone, so [we’re] just trying to get on top of that. READ MORE: ‘It’s massively exciting’ – Hamilton shares more details on Apple’s F1 movie ahead of Silverstone filming “[There’s] still some stuff we can do better, for sure, heading into tomorrow. The weather looks a little bit tricky, but we’ll play it by ear. I think generally it was a solid start to the weekend and we’ll try and build off that. “Honestly, mine and Alex’s comments are pretty much in line, so that’s good. We can move in the same direction tomorrow as a team and hopefully the good pace continues.” Admitting that reaching Q2 would mark a “really good day”, Sargeant added: “I don’t think we’re getting too far ahead of ourselves yet. We’ll see tomorrow, we’ll see when quali comes around.” via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

[my-year-of-game-boy]

Week 1: Kirby's Dream Land 2

I want to say it was a hard choice deciding what game to start this blog with. There are so many iconic games and series associated with the Game Boy that I could've went with an iconic puzzler, a launch title like Super Mario Land, or that famous monster catching series, Robopon. Honestly, though? I just shoved a game into the Analogue Pocket that I hadn't actually played before and went with that. I'm a big fan of Nintendo's ever present second-tier mascot, Kirby. Multiple round, pink toys adorn my home, a Kirby t-shirt is part of my regular rotation, and Kirby and the Forgotten Land was my number two game of 2022. Yet, there are so many games in the little fellow's catalogue that I've never played them all. I could be writing about how his first ever appearance was on this handheld, or I could write about the many hours I spent getting lost in The Amazing Mirror. Maybe I still will, but today, I have the pleasure of saying I finally played Kirby's Dream Land 2.

Most Kirby games have a gimmick, even as early as this one. Here, our favorite infant Star Warrior is joined by new, rideable animal friends. In addition to Kirby's trademark copy abilities (Of which this game is only the second time they've appeared!), the rideable gain abilities in combination with Kirby's. This creates some fun combinations, but they're hindered by trading Kirby's floating mobility for the movement of your pal.

Pray you don't get this dude on anything but a water level

As someone who's played the original Kirby's Dream Land countless times, I was surprised at the vast jump in scale, game mechanics, level design, and even difficulty between this game and that one. Sure, there was an NES game inbetween, but it's still such a jump from what might be the simplest mainstream platformer to ever grace the Game Boy.

There's some cheapness to the scrolling levels, one in particular has you essentially choosing one of three paths and desperately hoping you don't get trapped, but the rest of levels are pretty cleverly designed. Unfortunately, these levels sometimes feel designed with Kirby's floating ability in mind to the point that playing with his new pals is a detriment. Later levels had me actually avoiding taking one on from time to time because I simply didn't think it would be very helpful.

Kirby's on a roll!

There's secrets to find across the seven different worlds that lead to an optional boss fight that I may not have actually found, but I respect that they're actually there to find. Even with all the Kirby games that've been made over the years, this one's still worth a visit even today. I'd recommend it just to take a gander at Kirby's cute little buddies, even if Kine the sunfish shows up at the most inopportune times. Before I finish my inaugural entry, I'd like to make a point that, in addition to being the first game I've written about here, this is the first game I've played through in its entirety on the Analogue Pocket! So, you get a bit of a bog standard game review along with some first impressions of video game hardware! Don't worry, I plan on changing up the format and topics from entry to entry, but I figured I'd start with something a bit more traditional. Anyway, the Analogue Pocket is a lovely little device with a few issues here and there. For this game, I did take advantage of the save state function, but it's pretty finicky. The Pocket plays carts natively and doesn't use emulation, so I'm kind of amazed that it does save states at all. Unfortunately, I could only read my last save state and would accidentally write over them constantly with the quick commands to make them. For a relatively easy game like this, it was only a minor frustration, but for some real nail biters, I can see this getting pretty annoying. The games themselves look gorgeous on it and the OpenFGPA allows me to load some neat stuff that'll get mentioned in later entries. I did have a bit of hand cramping despite my small hands, and I worry about the shoulder buttons in GBA games. However, the ergonomics are otherwise great and no different than a Game Boy Pocket, really. Lastly, it's a bit of a dream just being able to easily take screenshots on the console. I'd recommend it to anyone who considers themselves a classic video game enthusiast or just has a pile of Game Boy carts they'd really like to play.

I leave you with an obligatory Rick pic.

[maxandhisbooks]

Medusa (Jessie Burton) - a review

“Me and Perseus. Moon and sun, silver and gold.”

Medusa // pg 88

☆☆ + ½

→ SPOILERS AHEAD – YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED ←

I recently finished reading “Medusa” by Jessie Burton and it was…. fine?

“Medusa” is a YA retelling of the classic myth. After being cursed by Athena, Medusa and her sister flee to an island far away. Her sisters leave every morning to hunt for food, so Medusa has little company but her snakes and dog. When Perseus, the son of Zeus, arrives on the island, Medusa is charmed by his beauty and falls in love with him for his personality. Embarrassed by her “disfigurement”, Medusa lies to Perseus about who she is, and hides away from him behind a rock. They begin to be truthful with each other, where it is revealed that Perseus is on a mission to kill The Medusa to protect his mother. At its core, the book is about love and betrayal. It is about being true to yourself and reclaiming your story.

This book is labeled as a feminist retelling, but I think that title is unfair. The only feminist thing about this book is Medusa reclaiming her own myth, something she does in almost every story of hers. The book is just a retelling of their story, and to me it fails to add anything unique. Unlike other Greek myth retellings, it does not feel like the author added her own twist at all. I read some GoodRead reviews and many say that this feels like the characters reading their Wikipedia articles. Whilst I disagree with that, I do agree that the story is missing something.

I also really disliked the last chapter. After Perseus is turned to stone, Medusa begins addressing the reader directly. She does this at the beginning of the book but when it happens again at the end, it feels jarring and uncomfortable. For me, the whole last chapter was really weak. Instead of talking to the audience, I wish Medusa had continued to tell her story: how she made a shrine for Perseus, how she left the island, how she protects women and is now thankful for Athena’s curse. She mentions all these things, but they are in passing. The last chapter just felt unsatisfying for a book I was really enjoying.

Ignoring these criticisms, I did enjoy this book. I love the story of Medusa, so the fact that it was a classic retelling actually didn’t upset me too much. Additionally, Jessie Burton’s writing is wonderful, and was the saving grace for this story. She describes Medusa’s anxiety and fear of Poseidon in an intriguing way and the relationship with Perseus is enjoyable to read. It was also a short and quick read. I finished this book in two days. I think this book is better suited towards people just getting into Greek Mythology, instead of people like me who are consumed by the Greek gods.

I will say, I did not read the illustrated version of this book. That version has higher ratings on a couple of sites, so perhaps it is the pretty drawings that I felt were missing from this story.

Overall, this book is a 2.5 stars for me, which I think is my lowest rating of the year. There was nothing inherently bad about this book, but there also wasn’t anything revolutionary about it either. For me, it was the ending that stopped this book from getting a full 3 stars. The ending just felt stiff and awkward to read which made me feel unsatisfied. It is still a good book though and I would still recommend reading it. This might be a good book to pull someone out of a reading slump, as it's a super short and easy read.

[dzpenumbra]

5/18/23

So... I left the window open night before last. And I was writing last night about how cold it's been getting. And... I think I left it open last night too? Either way... I woke up after about 5 hours sleep and... shit was just off. I couldn't really figure it out. But I felt hungry, so I said fuck it and got up and ate cereal and passed out in the comfy chair. I had a stream on and passed out with earbuds in.

I woke up to a recording of some True Crime thing they were playing on the RP stream. There's this whole PD corruption arc going on, and I'm guessing this streamer was using this as an example for her audience of what real corruption looks like? Either way, I woke up to an actual corrupt cop doing super sketchy shit with a young girl, and real voice recordings and shit... and it pulled me out of sleep. So... not the greatest note to officially start my day on. Adding to that, I physically felt like absolute ass.

I have barely recovered, honestly. Until about 1 or 2AM I have been feeling horrible. At my worst, I popped in my earbuds and had my phone ready to go and spend the night in the bathroom puking. And I mean that. I managed to slowly get food into my system, slow enough that I didn't aggravate the nausea to the point of puking. The nausea is still there a little, but not too bad. It started as serious heartburn and dehydration, and it feels like it's kinda tapering off back into the same shit. So... big-time nausea, what feels like a slight fever, tired. Not a fun day because of that.

I gave myself some slack and let myself just chill and watch the highly anticipated stream I was looking forward to, which did not disappoint. And I popped the heat on, no clue if that is helping too or not.

Luckily, because I started feeling better, I was able to push myself a bit to finish Mod Podging the beads. They're all done now. Now, all I need to do is remember how I was sanding them when I had a really reliable system, and do that tomorrow. I'm pretty sure all I did was pop them on a wooden skewer, dip them in water, then poke the skewer through some Carhartt pants that are too small for me, and slowly spin the bead while gently applying pressure. I remember that working really well, even better than 600 grit sandpaper which was actually tearing off the Mod Podge. So... I'll give that a try tomorrow.

I hope I get rested and feel better tomorrow. I know dreams were a factor yesterday, and stress, but honestly... this kinda just felt like being straight up normal run-down... like the edge of being sick. I had a day like this not long ago, I remember it pretty clearly, just... not how long ago. My big bowl is still out and on standby from that, so it had to be somewhat recently. I got a bit anxious that it might be part of a pattern, this out-of-the-blue run-down, nausea, fever kinda thing. But I was able to keep that anxiety well contained, which is good.

I did skip yoga today, though. So... you know what? I'm gonna go and do like 10 minutes by myself real quick and get a little bit of ice cream after. Fuck it. I was going to call it off, but honestly... Okay, I'm just going for it here. Yoga is not about doing a routine. It's about connecting with your body, syncing, all that. So... ultimately... my goal with yoga is to be able to have enough of an established language with it that I can get on the mat and just... do whatever my body is kinda asking for. Whatever my body needs that day. Like a tune-up. So if I'm feeling like garbage today and I just need to do some gentle easy stuff on just certain parts of my body? That's good. That's not lazy. This isn't training for a fucking triathlon. It's taking care of mind, body and spirit; whatever they may need at that moment. So yeah, I'm gonna do that when I wrap up here.

One last thing that's on my mind. And I'm a little anxious about this one, but... stream of consciousness, so here it is. I read the post of someone I follow on here when I went to write this. If you're reading this, hi! Sorry for not commenting, I got anxious and didn't reply because... I didn't want to be a buzzkill and was afraid I couldn't phrase it properly. They recently set up on TikTok for art stuff. They got hit with DMCA, which I got legit angry about, like... they're doing DMCA on fucking social media now? Like... that isn't even for money... I don't understand how they can make an argument on that one, it's gotten so fucking petty and shameless. It's like no one is even challenging it anymore. ANYWHO. This guy is really talented, and I mean that. Very creative, very original style, very recognizable. I envy how natural his character design is, it's inspiring. He got some traction on TikTok. Like... a very decent amount. And that's a huge rush, and it makes you feel really fucking good about yourself, your creative self. It's a massive affirmation. And in his case, he definitely deserves that! That and more! And... you're waiting for it... the "b-word" is coming... But... That is exactly what TikTok wants you to think and feel.

I know it sounds conspiracy or whatever, but like... it's literally how the app is designed, and there's plenty out there to corroborate this, unfortunately. And I didn't know this until I read a post on an art forum on Reddit about a week ago, and this is apparently commonly known. Your first posts are "boosted", giving you a big jump in algorithm placement. If you don't catch a massive wave there... yeah... So... I wanted to... warn him. Not to kill his buzz, though that likely would be the outcome... but to... god, this is so hard to phrase. To let him know that he is talented, and he should be getting this much attention, but... that a major social media company was essentially creating a false feeling... an illusion... to get him hooked. And it's working. Because just watching it, as a bystander... it's... I'm sorry, I just don't know what to do.

I want to think telling someone that they aren't really getting attention, that it's just a lot of people getting something new forced into their feed and they swipe through it like any other post... I want to think that telling them that is like... merciful, a good thing. Grounding. The truth. But like... it feels like telling a kid Santa isn't real. And I'm not the bad guy here. That fucking company that literally targets children with this system, that shit is fucking evil. It's dirty, man. It fucks with peoples' mental health, their self esteem, their self worth; it's literally designed to do that, to get you excited, to keep you engaged. You give them a huge boost of "I'm popular, people like me, I'm worth something, these people value me!" For like 4 days. Long enough to get them hooked. Then you drop the "training wheels", the artificially inflated views. The viral shit goes viral, the rest... not so much. And then they think... --- and this is why I wanted so badly wanted to reply --- they think it's their fault. They think they've gone from thousands of views to 10 because of a drop in their quality, or a drop in their creativity, like "whoops, had spinach in my teeth during the job interview" kinda thing. And with something as personal as genuine art? Art, of course, being a glimpse into the artist's personal experience of life. Yeah. That is what I was seeing. I was seeing 3-4 days from now, when this poor guy and his legitimately exciting inspiration to do animated storyboards with music - dude, if you're reading this, do it! It's a really cool idea, one that I've wanted to get into but can't keep my attention on it long enough! And if you do, please post them here, or at least link them! - when those posts... that he put a tremendous amount of his heart, soul and labor into... get a fraction of the public response... I just... I know he's going to blame himself. Because if I didn't know this shit about TikTok, I would too. I would do the same thing. "Guess no one gives a shit about this piece, must be something wrong with it." That's not correct. It's just not reaching people who appreciate it.

So yeah, that whole tirade wouldn't fit into a reply, and I didn't want to kill the buzz. I just didn't know how to respond. So I was planning on... if he posts in a few days about how his new projects flopped, to reassure then. As much as I want to... forewarn, to help soften that blow. And hell, maybe he strikes gold, I don't know. I really do wish the best to him on that, he truly does have a lot of talent. But I guess my conscience needed to get that off my chest.

I'm so conflicted on this new habit of like... writing really heartfelt shit to people online in comment sections... and then deleting it and never posting it. It's mostly because I have done it so many times in the past and had it just... go unnoticed. Or even gotten pushback. Because so many idiots are out there literally just looking for a fight. And I just... I want to be careful, and thoughtful. Intentional. And all my intentions are always benevolent, philanthropic, well-meaning. But they aren't always received that way. And... I guess my faith has been a bit wounded as of late. So, to those out there with kind hearts who would not be offended by my input... sorry for assuming. It's my problem, a byproduct of the problems of others, not yours.

Alright, with all that out and done... I'm gonna go do some quick yoga, water my plants, get a quick bite of ice cream and then head to bed. The newest necklace should be done tomorrow (hopefully), I'm very excited!

[frogtanii]

embarrassed ft. matsukawa issei

wc. 2.7k (???)

warnings. SMUT, not proofread lol, mutual pining (??), friends to lovers (???), cunnilingus lmao, no dom/sub dynamics, well actually dom&sub issei if you squint rlly hard hehe, kinda cute, embarrassed issei <3, also one (1) WAP reference

an. it’s 2:30 am and i have no idea why i wrote this and who for???? i got the idea from a 🦋😳🙈✨ audio and was immediately inspired idk, sorry if it’s bad i lichrally have no idea since i didn’t read it after it was done :p

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

it wasn’t like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed.

he was handsome, intelligent, and funny, not to mention he never left women wanting after a night with him.

issei was the entire package and he knew it.

beyond superficiality though, he was happy with his life. he had a great group of friends, a nice apartment all to himself and a completely normal job.

yes, being a funeral home employee wasn’t the most glamorous career a person could have but he was happy. besides, it never deterred him from getting a warm body to sleep with which was a win in his book.

all in all? his life was great!

so why did he have to go and screw it all up?

issei blames makki and the dumb flyer for the reason his life went to shit. (maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but let him have his oikawa moment.)

he was minding his own business when his best friend (recently turned enemy) burst through his apartment door with a piece of paper in his hand and a fire in his eyes.

“dude, look at this!” issei rolled his eyes, putting down his casket catalogue and turning to meet takahiro’s gaze.

“why hello to you too. remind me why i gave you a key again?”

“because you love me and because i bring shit like this to you. look!” with another long and suspiciously tooru-like sigh, issei took the crumpled paper from makki and immediately stopped in his tracks.

“makki... what the fuck is this?”

written in large pink letters and a flowery, borderline illegible font was the name, coffee and cunnilingus. upon further inspection and careful reading, it revealed itself to be a little cafe opening up about 10 minutes from issei’s apartment complex who were looking to hire “young, attractive men who are proficient at eating pussy.”

issei could feel his eyes narrow and his mouth drop open in shock as he repeated his question. “the fuck is this?”

makki shook his head excitedly, tapping to another portion of the flyer that matsukawa had not yet read. “no, no dude, just look at how much they’re paying per hour.” issei begrudgingly obliged but the minute his eyes touched the (Massive™) number, he felt a little faint.

it was a lot of money. more than the funeral home was paying, that’s for sure. with that kind of money he could move out of this suddenly dingy seeming apartment and into a nice flat in the city were he’d always wanted to live. maybe he could buy himself a nice watch or even a high-end suit to replace the one from his highschool graduation (aka the only suit he owns). with that kind of money, he could erase his student debt 3 years ahead of schedule and get his mom into a nicer place.

it was these thoughts that clouded issei’s head as he found himself standing in front of a cute looking building, matching the address on the flyer. i’ll only be working part time, he thought as he pushed the door open to reveal an equally impressing interior with curtained booths and a wide variety of coffee on the menu. i’m only doing it for extra money, he thought as he shook the owner’s hand after he finished his successful interview. no one can ever know, he thought as he dressed himself in the uniform on his first day.

thus began issei’s super secret side hustle where he ate women out for cash.

sounds worse when you say it outright but it was just working. he was good at it, the women liked him, and he was making BANK. still, there were challenges. some women refused to bathe before coming and he would have to send them to the restroom to freshen up which absolutely ruined his chances for a good tip. some women would become heavily infatuated with him, believing that they were in some sort of forbidden romance. he learned to turn them down quick and easy to avoid conflict in the workplace which furthered his space as a boss favorite. but his hardest challenge by far was meeting you.

you were one of hanamaki’s friends, having met him at one of his brief stints in retail on his search for a job. he had gotten fired but you both stayed in touch after he left, becoming really close, really fast.

issei had met you first when takahiro had invited you to the biweekly seijoh third-years movie night. at first, he had been pissed as an “outsider” had never been invited before and he was worried you’d ruin the vibe, especially since it was the first time in months that oikawa would be able to join them. makki vouched for you through and through and the other boys were okay with it so you were in. the second he met you, all his fears of awkwardness and discomfort faded away.

you were great.

you were hilarious, pretty, and could keep up with makki’s harsh jokes, tooru’s diva attitude, iwa’s tendency to hit (hard), and issei’s original disdain. by the end of the night, he had completely forgotten why he didn’t want you there in the first place.

from then on, you were a staple in their little friend group. you were added to the groupchat where you balanced memes with spouts of deep wisdom and you were ever so reliable, always there if any of them needed it.

yeah, you were great. that’s where the problems started.

issei’s feelings for you quickly went from platonic to romantic, faster than you can say godzilla. he hadn’t even recognized that he was falling for you until it was way too late. normally, he wouldn’t have a problem confessing to you but because of his newly found ...occupation, he was too nervous. how would you take it that he was basically a glorified prostitute? ok, that wasn’t exactly what he did but still! you’d probably find him disgusting and horrible and leave the friend group forever. then he’d have to deal with oikawa’s senseless whining and makki’s subtle digs, blaming him for your departure. yeah, he wasn’t going to put himself through that so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

too bad he didn’t have any control over makki’s.

you and takahiro had been on a little friend-date at mcdonald’s after you’d had a long and frustrating shift. you just wanted to vent, expressing your general hate for your job and desperate need for stress relief.

that’s when makki opened his (big, stupid) mouth and suggested that you visit a little place called coffee and cunnilingus. you nearly choked on your fries at the title before quickly pressing him for details. thankfully, he had the decency not to expose that issei worked there but he had not done a good enough job convincing you not to go there. not that it would’ve mattered. your curiosity was peaked and your libido was high so why not try out the weird cafe where you let a complete stranger stick his tongue inside you?

it was settled. you were going to go and you were going to get eaten out and you were going to like it!

or at least that is what you repeated in your head as you walked to the address on your phone before taking a deep breath and walking inside.

“hello, welcome to coffee and cunnilingus, how might i pleasure you this afterno— yn?” issei’s eyes widened as they met your equally bewildered ones, the both of you staring at each other in shock.

“matsukawa-san, is everything alright?” a large hand rested on issei’s shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts and forcing him to break (horrified) eye contact with you and move it onto his boss who was now looking down on him menacingly.

“y-yes sir, everything is fine!” he squeaked out, hating the way his voice cracked on his first syllable. his boss looked at him suspiciously but thankfully didn’t press.

“well, since nothing is wrong, take this beautiful young woman to a booth where you will assist her!” the hand resting on issei’s shoulder slowly squeezed, making him wince in pain. the pain was only an afterthought though to the larger implication of his boss’ words. he’s going to assist you. assist as in pleasure. pleasure as in eat you out.

holy shit, you were going to pass out.

apparently, issei had the same thought process as you, his face whitening like a sheet. “m-me? but sir i-“

“do your job matsukawa-san!” his boss cut him off with a forced smile. all issei could do was nod and silently lead you off to a closed booth near the back or lose his job. you stayed close behind him but remained quiet, absolutely terrified of breaking the silence and ruining the bubble you had created.

you finally reached the booth in question. issei gently opened the curtain and motioned for you to get it, to which you obliged and he followed just behind.

the moment the curtain closed, you were enveloped in an awkward silence and tense atmosphere, neither of you speaking or looking at one another for fear of one of you running out. after what felt like hours, you opened your mouth to speak, not realizing issei had thought the same thing.

“so-“

“i-“

you finally made eye contact with him and burst into the laughter, the tension quickly broken. it took a full minute or two for the both of you to calm down, the absurdity of the entire situation finally catching up with you.

“you first,” issei said, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while fixing you with an intense gaze swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but it made butterflies bubble up in your stomach. you quickly turned your gaze to the comfortable seat beneath you, your fingers playing with the red stitching while you thought of what you had wanted to say.

“are you any good?” your hand flew up to cover your mouth as your cheeks filled with heat, the embarrassment of your words catching up to you. you hadn’t meant to say that but when you opened your mouth to apologize, you were stopped in your tracks by the lovely sound of issei’s full-bodied laughter filling the tiny booth.

you had heard it just moments earlier but without the sound of your own giggles drowning it out, you couldn’t help but think that he sounded beautiful. you basked in the sound as it slowly trailed off back into silence. now it was you doing the staring making issei look off with a red face and a heart threatening to pound out of his chest.

“y-yeah i’m pretty good. you want to try? me, i mean?” his words nearly leave you gasping, your brain working overtime to try and comprehend what he was saying to you.

“only if y-you want to? what do you want issei?” you whispered, suddenly unable to find your voice. you wanted this to be okay for him too; you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable even though you wanted him more than you could verbally express. despite the embarrassment and fear of rejection lingering under your skin, you stared at him, awaiting his answer. a tiny minuscule nod came from him and you internally shook your head. you needed to hear him.

“i need you to say it, issei.” your words, while quiet, were firm and issei felt himself hardening in his uniform slacks. he swallowed in his increasingly drying mouth before opening his mouth to respond.

“i want to eat your pussy. can i?”

shit.

your own voice was stolen by his words and all you could give him was a nod before he was on you.

issei didn’t waste any time falling to his knees, pulling your panties down, and hiking your skirt up to your stomach, revealing your glistening folds to his hungering eyes.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” is all the warning you get before he’s licking a long stripe up you from entrance to clit before he’s sucking the hard, sensitive nub into his mouth. your eyes immediately rolled back into your head, your hips instinctively bucking up into his mouth while a gasped moan of issei left your lips.

if he could bottle your moans and use them whenever he pleased, he would, the sound sending another pulse of arousal to his already hard cock. he was tempted to reach down and pull himself out of his trousers but he denied himself. this was about you; you and your wet ass pussy.

issei continued his ministrations on your clit, circling it with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth while his hand was ready to get busy. it crept up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine until it reached your sopping entrance, two of his fingers teasing the slit before delving in to the third knuckle.

the moan you let out is borderline animalistic as your body sends another wave of slick pulsing out over his hand. he groaned into your cunt at your tightness, his mind only imagining him deep within you while you squeeze him for all he’s got.

the amount of slick you produced made it easy for him to add a third finger, thrusting them in and out while also crooking them upwards in search for your special spot that would have you seeing stars. it took him a little prodding but he knew he found it when your back arched, your hand came down into his hair, and you whimpered out a string of curses.

“that’s it baby, cmon, you’re doing so well, wanna see you come apart for me,” he all but growled against your clit before delving back in with a higher intensity, his desperation for you to come winning out his desire to tease you and drag this out as long as possible.

with his incessant pressure on your g-spot and his lips suctioned around your clit, it wasn’t long before he got what he wanted.

“isseiisseiisseiissei, i’m coming, i’m coming-oh fuck!” you screamed as you clenched and gushed all over his fingers, your entire body caving in with the intensity of your orgasm. his fingers were practically forced from your spasming cunt but they quickly found a place rubbing your nub side to side as fast as possible. the overwhelming urge to pee came over you and you shook your head, trying to push his hand away.

“no, no, give it to me, i know you can,” issei groaned, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. the pleasure he was giving came to a head at his words and you felt a clear liquid escape from your tired, overstimulated cunt, your mouth opening in a silent moan before collapsing back on the seat.

the sight proved to be too much for issei as he felt his body tense, his own orgasm washing over him as he emptied himself into his boxers. he fell back onto the ground, in shock of himself coming entirely untouched. he’d never done it before but of course it was you that would bring it out of him. a smile spread across his face at the thought, his head tilting back as he laughed, catching the attention of your worn body.

“what’re y’laughing at?” you slurred, cringing a little at how fucked out you sounded but issei didn’t seem to mind, his face glowing while covered in your slick and cum.

“nothing, nothing, but uh, i have a question.” you felt your heart leap to your chest, your mind already racing with the possibilities. he’s going to say this was a mistake, that we’re just better off as friends. oh god, what if he says i stunk? or the worst pussy he’s ever had? or what if—

“want to go and get a coffee?” he asked, the smile still plastered on his face but with an uncharacteristic hint of shyness. the butterflies were back in your stomach as you shyly nodded before allowing him to help clean you up and standing, not missing how he slipped your lacy underwear deep into one of his pockets.

issei’s hand found its way into yours as he said goodbye to his coworkers and boss before leading you out of the cafe, watching you tell an animated retelling of the bullshit that occurred at your job with a warm grin on his face and pink cheeks.

it might not be like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed but if it resulted in getting you by his side? he would do it again and again.

[pies-writes-and-more]

Hungover Love

word count: 2,688

pairing: UniversityStudent!Akaashi Keiji x Fem!Reader

warnings: characters getting drunk and hungover - all assumed to be of legal age

a/n: I don’t know where this came from but I started writing it so here it is haha. Got the idea from @moanlightlust‘s list (can find it here!) so thank you! I’ll bold the prompt down below (I kinda changed it for the sake of the story but still got the idea from their prompt list :)) Thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells​ and @thisnoodlewritesao3​ for reading over this for me! Love you both :)

haikyuu masterlist

“Akaashi?” You repeated the name for the second time as you strained your ears to hear something besides bar music and Bokuto’s loud voice in the background.

“Hm?” The small grunt made you smile, knowing he was probably slumped over on a chair, holding his face in one hand and leaning on a table in front of him, with his other hand pressing his phone a little too hard on his ear.

You let out a small laugh, pausing the show you had on your TV so you could hear him better, “Akaashi, you called me. Did you need something?”

There was another grunt on the other end of the line, and you chuckled as you heard Konoha teasing Bokuto about something in the distance, “What is it, Akaashi?” You inquired some more, listening to him hum quietly to the song playing.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he mumbled and you just shook your head with a smile. God he must’ve had far too many drinks to be this out of it. “I fucking love Y/N Y/L/N. It almost feels like she can hear me right now,” he was saying and you just laughed. “Like I can... I can hear her laughing.”

“Akaashi, you idiot,” your face felt hot but you tried to ignore it. He was drunk. Very clearly drunk. He didn’t mean anything by it - the last time he was drunk, he told you he was going to leave his college volleyball team and join some new sport because Bokuto was getting on his nerves. 

It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. It didn’t matter that those were the words you had been waiting to hear from him. It didn’t matter that you’d spent the last two years pining after him. He was drunk.

“Didya know... the other day.... Y/N smiled at me cause I said something funny- what did I say... I can’t remember what I said but I said something funny and she smiled and I just.. God it’s that smile ya know?” Akaashi’s voice seemed so much lighter than it did usually. You could tell that he was smiling and just imagining that goofy drunk smile on his face made your heart skip a beat or two.

“That’s nice,” you tried to keep things casual, avoid getting your hopes up too much. You didn’t want to ruin what you had with him - the nice fun friendship that was definitely just a friendship.

“Y/N?” Akaashi suddenly seemed a lot more present, as if just realizing you were on the line. 

“Yea?”

“Y/N!” The smile on his face was probably a lot bigger from the sounds of it, a chuckle slipping from his lips, “I love you, Y/N! I’ve loved you ever since I met you when you picked up my runaway ball for me back in high school. You were so pretty then and you’re super pretty now. Like you get prettier every day I see you-” his speech was quick and slurred, you could almost feel him getting drunker by the second.

“Akaashi-”

“Bokuto keeps telling me that I need to tell you but I dunno if I can because I’m pretty sure you like that dude that lives across from you and-”

“Akaashi-”

“But I guess I wouldn’t know until I told you right? So I’m telling you because I like you. I really like you. I wanted to bring you to that new ice cream place down the road from your place but you always seemed so busy and I don’t want to bug you, plus volleyball takes up so much time, and then there’s school, and I don’t even know how to balance volleyball, school, and a girlfriend-”

“Akaashi!” Your voice was louder this time, biting down on your inner cheek as his name left your lips. You needed him to stop - it had to stop. Your heart was fluttering too much and you couldn’t even tell how much of this was true. You wanted to tell yourself that alcohol could bring out people’s true feelings, but it also made you do dumb shit. And wouldn’t confessing to someone you didn’t actually like be considered dumb shit?

“Ya that’s me,” Akaashi mumbled, clearly a lot more tired than he seemed five seconds ago.

You tried not to laugh, tried to swallow your fears and your feelings, your heart feeling like it was beating a thousand times a minute. “I need you to go sober up, get some rest and drink lots of water okay?”

“But-”

“No but’s! You obviously drank way too much and honestly, I’ve never heard you talk like this before and I can’t even tell if it’s you anymore,” you acted like you were scolding him, putting up that wall again like you had so many other times before. He couldn’t really like you, could he? There was no way.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I fucking love you!” Akaashi yelled into the phone, making you cringe a bit at the volume.

Your chest was tightening, you couldn’t tell if it was fear or hope but whatever it was, it was scaring the shit out of you, “Shut the hell up! If you love me so much tell me when you’re sober, dammit!” You yelled back, immediately hanging up the phone. Your eyes widened as you watched the call screen disappear, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

The next few hours were radio silent from both Bokuto and Akaashi. You refused to text either of them in fear that you might accidentally say more than you wanted to.

It’s fine, he was really drunk from the sounds of it so he probably won’t even remember it right? I mean, the last time he got super drunk, he didn’t remember challenging the bartender to a pushup fight so... so he won’t remember.... right?

You paced in your room for a bit, glancing at your phone every five seconds to see if there was any sort of notification from either of your friends. But nothing. 

You barely slept a wink that night, tossing and turning while facing dreams of Akaashi laughing in your face the next time you saw him.

You thought I meant that? It was just a joke, Y/N.

I only see you as a friend, sorry.

Don’t you think you’re reading into our friendship a little too much? That’s all there is. Friendship. 

The idea of Akaashi awkwardly laughing in your face, giving you that half smile while dismissing your feelings haunted you for hours. By the time the sun came up, you gave up on the idea of sleeping and threw your blanket off of you. It was time to figure out how to survive your day without thinking about Akaashi Keiji at all. 

It wasn’t easy. Everything reminded you of him. Half of your Netflix was shows you were watching with him, or movies you’d already seen with him next to you. Your homework wasn’t any help either (though you definitely needed to get it done). Akaashi would normally come over and study with you, his adorable glasses making him look like some young professor, twirling his pencil around in his fingers while nodding along to some song stuck in his head. You couldn’t get used to studying on your own.

Radio silence finally broke when you texted Bokuto, asking if they all made it home safe last night and he responded with a very badly spelled text message saying, “himw safe so tirwd need adcil heaf hurtinh” (aka. home safe so tired need advil head hurting) 

Your lips curled into a small smile - at least Bokuto was alive. And the fact that he wasn’t all up in your face about Akaashi meant that the setter probably hadn’t said anything last night, or at least, it meant that Bokuto was too busy tending to a hangover to think about it.

A knock on your door made you jump, watching it for a moment before slowly approaching.

“Oi, open up, I know you’re in there.”

You calculated the odds and realistically there were only 3 reasons why Akaashi would be at your door right now, while he was still probably very hungover.

A. He was tired of listening to Bokuto complain about being hungover while also hungover and wanted you to help take care of him.

B. He wasn’t actually hungover and wanted to hang out.

C. He remembered your phone call from last night and wanted to confront you about it.

...

There was no way it was B or C so... it had to be A right?

You opened the door with a smile on your face, trying to pretend like this was the first time you spoke to him since you saw him earlier yesterday.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” You asked, welcoming him in and watching his movements as he shuffled inside. He was wearing his sunglasses and wincing a little so... it definitely wasn’t B. He was definitely still hungover.

“Good morning to you too,” Akaashi chuckled slightly, groaning as he made his way over to your couch and flopped onto it. “God, my head is killing me,” he grumbled.

You felt almost a bit of relief - he wasn’t bringing it up so... it must mean that C wasn’t an option right? “I’ll make you some tea. Want something to eat?”

He made a noise that you assumed was a yes, grabbing some ramen packages that you liked to have whenever you were hungover.

“How’re the boys?” You asked as soon as the tea was finished, handing it to him as he sat up with a huff.

“Fine... I told them I didn’t want to get drunk,” he rolled his eyes. “But Bokuto kept pouring shots and being a little bitch when I didn’t want to have them... something about how he didn’t want to lose his best friend or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head slowly as you moved back to your little kitchen, “You’re always so busy studying. Bokuto probably just misses having you around.”

“We live together.”

“Ya well you’re always either on campus or here with me so I can see why he’d miss you,” you smirked, humming softly to yourself as you let the noodles cook. Things were okay. Things were normal. Things were going to be fine - all your worries were slipping away-

“So are we not going to talk about it?” 

Akaashi’s voice made you jump, turning around to find him standing right behind you and slowly sipping on the tea.

“Fuck, Akaashi, don’t do that,” you glared at him, hitting his arm, “Could’ve made me burn myself.” 

“Sorry,” he gave you a small smile, leaning against the nearby counter. “But we are going to talk about it, aren’t we?”

The ramen so clearly needed stirring and stirring was a full focus kind of job and this was obviously why you were looking into the pot and not looking at Akaashi, even though you could feel his eyes watching you, “Talk about what? Bokuto missing you?”

Akaashi chuckled and lifted his finger to under your chin, tilting your face to look at him, “I drank a lot. But I don’t think any amount of alcohol could make me forget how embarrassing I was.”

“Embarrassing?”

He watched your eyes for a moment before pulling his hand away from you and looking down at his tea, his smile slowly stiffening, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I don’t want to make you more uncomfortable. I just thought I should apologize and let you know that you don’t have to reject me or anything. I like being friends with you and that’s enough for me, even if there’s a part of me that wants more.”

You almost dropped your spoon on the floor, staring at him with wide eyes, “S-Sorry what? Apologize? For... for what?”

“For confessing to you while drunk,” Akaashi’s smile was turning more sad now, taking a slow sip from his tea. “I’d been considering telling you how I feel for a while now and I guess I should’ve stopped myself from drinking sooner to save you the embarrassment.”

“Embarrassment? Akaashi, don’t be an idiot,” you ignored the soup still dripping from the spoon and whacked his arm with it.

“Hey!”

“You’re telling me you were drunk enough to confess to me and to remember what you said but not remember what I said at the end?” You huffed, hands on your hips now. 

Akaashi’s eyes lifted to the ceiling in thought, his lips pursing slowly like he did when he was concentrating on getting an answer right on his homework, “I know you seemed mad,” he finally responded, shrugging a bit. “I figured it was cause I put you on the spot like that.”

“No you absolute meathead, it’s because after months and months of pining after you, weeks of Bokuto almost spilling my secret on multiple different occasions to you, him almost screaming to you once about how much I love you, you end up telling me you love me over a drunk phone call and I can’t tell if you’re being serious or just a drunk dummy!” You scold him, hitting his arm again with your hand and shaking your head. God, for a boy with as high of an average as he had, how is it possible that there were no brain cells running around in that head of his?

Akaashi smirked a little, watching your eyes as you ranted, a playful smile on his lips, “So... you love me huh?”

“You better get out of my sight before I dump this ramen on your head,” you glare at him, trying your best not to smile because his smile was just so contagious but ugh that evil little smirk of his-

His lips were suddenly on your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your skin and letting you feel the smirk still toying on his expression, “Drunk or not. I do love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y-Yeah yeah whatever,” you avoid his eyes some more, your whole face feeling hot and your cheek tingling where he had kissed you. “Go sit, it’s almost done.”

“Not until you say it back,” he teased, hugging you from behind and peppering your cheeks with some more kisses. “You said you love me, you can’t take it back now. Say it again.”

“Why?” you laughed, trying to pull away from his tight hug.

“Because it’s the best news I’ve ever gotten and I want to hear you say it again and again and again,” he insisted, turning you around to face him and smiling down at you. “Pretty please?”

You sighed with a smile on your face because as annoying as he could be, you really did mean it when you tell him, “I love you too, Akaashi.”

Alone time with Akaashi lasted long enough for him to properly ask you to go on a date with him to that ice cream shop, and was then interrupted by Bokuto showing up at your door and inviting himself in with a grin.

Apparently, the cure to Bokuto’s hangover was just knowing his two best friends had finally confessed to each other.

“God, I thought he’d never get drunk enough,” Bokuto grinned proudly to himself after you had happily explained the details to him. “I thought I’d have to just keep ordering him drinks.”

“What?” Akaashi glared at him, putting the pieces together.

Bokuto just smirked mischievously, “You can’t get mad cause it worked. I figured it would take a miracle to get you two to confess. And getting you drunk is basically a miracle.”

The fact that you were laughing made Akaashi want to kill Bokuto a little less, and even though he glared some more at his best friend, he would secretly thank him later for helping him get the courage to get the girl of his dreams. As much as Bokuto could get on his nerves sometimes, it really would be thanks to him that Akaashi got to take you out on that cute date and tell you just how much he loves you every day.

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet​ @tobi-momo​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @livy384​ @babyshoyo​ @jesssobs​ @b-bakana​

[awkwardgtace]

Testing Boundaries

More for the new brothers. Sadly can't write much happy for them yet. I'll try though.

Testing Boundaries

It had been a few weeks since Ian found out Mik was a human, or well Mikl said he was a sizeshifter. Ian felt a bit weird about everything honestly. He had never expected to see anyone else his size again, let alone a human he thought he could trust. Mik was spending a lot of time his size to help him too. It felt like he was cared about, it felt nice. Now he just wished he trusted Mik as a human a little bit more. He didn’t think he’d do anything bad, but a part of him didn’t want to fall for any tricks like he did with the bad human.

All of that weighing on his mind, Ian started testing boundaries. He was going as far as he could in every way. He was ignoring Mik when he’d call for him. He was borrowing food and supplies instead of asking or taking what was left out. He also knocked things down he knew wouldn’t matter. Overall just being a lousy borrower and maybe a lousy brother, although he pushed that thought away. He just needed to see what would happen if Mik actually got mad. It probably wasn’t his best idea, but really he hadn’t had anyone around long enough to think of better methods. He was more encouraged when Mik stopped getting to his size.

Nothing was making Mik angry though. Ian had tried pretty much everything, so he knew he had to step it up. Mik spent a lot of his human size time sitting at the desk in his room. Ian knew this would be where he could finally find out how Mik would act when angry. He climbed up and started looking for something to steal or mess with, anything that didn’t seem super important. He saw some papers that didn’t look like when Mik left notes. Ian couldn’t actually read what the paper said, he hadn’t been taught how. If Mik didn’t act differently after this, maybe he could ask him to help him learn how. He grabbed one of the smaller pens Mik kept on the desk and started to draw on the papers. He was focused on his task when he heard the bedroom door hit the wall. He looked at it with wide eyes, holding his breath as he met Mik’s eyes.

Mikhail hadn’t had an easy week. Ian was leaving messes all over the place, which Mikhail had to clean up. Ian had refused to come out when he was human size too. It didn’t help that he'd put off a usual assignment that involved a dinner here. He didn’t want to bring humans home when Ian wasn’t even aware it could happen. He settled for an early exam, which he’d have to spend all day grading. At least once that was over he could try to find Ian and talk to him, maybe have him stop acting out and avoiding him. At least he hoped he’d feel relaxed enough to shrink down.

He sighed as he opened the door, wincing when the door slammed on the wall. He didn’t even realize he’d put that much power into opening it. He sighed eyes drifting towards his desk, freezing when he noticed the small form there. He was going to speak, until he noticed the pen being held tightly and the ruined exam on the desk. Mikhail was finally angry at Ian. He wasn’t sure why Ian was doing this, but he couldn’t tell if it was the answer sheet or a student’s exam. The kid had been through a lot, and Mikhail tried to understand, but this was a step too far. Mikhail tried to calm down, taking deep breaths, but felt himself shoot up a few inches. At this point, staying in the house would make things worse. He stalked over to his desk, trying not to react to Ian’s trembling.

“Off the papers,” he growled. Mikhail didn’t have any patience right now. He’d take the papers, stick them in his car then go calm down. He’d probably deal with grading them in his office at the university. Ian scrambled back, clearly terrified of his currently human sized brother. Mikhail hated seeing him scared, but he wasn’t calm enough to talk with him right now. Mikhail barely softened when he saw that it was only the answer sheet. He grabbed the papers once Ian was off of them and quickly left the room. He grabbed his bag and shoved the papers in with little care. He grabbed his keys and left, wincing a bit when the door slammed as he walked out. He needed to cool down, after he graded the exams he’d talk with Ian about everything.

Ian was terrified. Mik had never looked at him like that before. He might have gotten bigger too, which made it even worse. Mik took the papers, was he even going to come back? The first time the bad human got mad like that, he came back with a more secure cage. Maybe Mik left to get a cage...no, no, Mik wouldn’t do that. Mik just left like when he went to that school place. He’d be back like normal, Ian would apologize and things would be fine again. Ian was tempted to just stay here and wait, but he didn’t feel safe enough for that. He made his way back to his home in the walls, curling up on the bed they’d made there. Mik would be back and they’d talk.

Ian slowly opened his eyes. He couldn’t remember falling asleep. He slowly made his way out to the human bedroom, but it looked like earlier. That meant Mik hadn’t come back. Ian felt tears pricking at his eyes, he must have made Mik really angry. He went too far and Mik wasn’t going to come back. He climbed on to Mik’s human bed, curling up on one of the pillows there. Mik had said this could be a bed out here for now. In case Ian got scared, he had a place that was his out here. It was nice to have somewhere he fit in Mik’s human room. He started to cry, curling up tighter and hugging himself. Mik had to be coming back, Ian would probably be all right if he came with a cage too. At least he still had someone there.

Mikhail had fallen asleep in his office while grading. He’d calmed a lot after getting here and decided he’d finish the papers then go home to talk with Ian. He wanted to give Ian his full attention to solve this. He had meant to be back sometime around midnight, but when one of the janitors knocked on his door in the morning, his blood ran cold. He rushed out with a quick thank you and to enjoy the weekend on his way. He had to get home and check on Ian, he’d left so angry, he felt like an idiot. He shouldn’t have let it get to him, Ian is just trying to figure out things. Ian couldn’t have known he was stressed, or that the paper was important.

He was rushing home when a thought popped into his head. Going home and talking wouldn’t solve the issues. Ian had gotten worse when he couldn’t shrink down, but when he was stressed it took a lot to stay human sized at all. He drove past a store when he got an idea. Maybe he could show Ian that even when Mikhail was human sized, he still mattered. He pulled him quickly, hoping they had what he wanted.

Ian had fallen asleep on the pillow. It was wet where his head was, he must have cried a long time. The sun was up and Mik still hadn’t come home. He wanted Mik to come back. He shouldn’t have written on the stupid paper. He curled up tightly again just staring into space. He couldn’t bring himself to go anywhere this time. He could stay here and pretend Mik had left the pillow out for him last night. He figured this time he’d go to sleep by choice, closing his eyes and hoping he’d wake up and the last day was a dream. Then the front door opened.

He froze, he wanted Mik back, but he might also still be mad. He should hide until he knows, but then Mik might leave again. He couldn’t decide what to do, fresh tears pricking his eyes. He didn’t know what was better, he didn’t want to be left behind even if it meant Mik became a bad human. He had barely decided when he heard the door crash into the wall again.

“Damn it,” Mikhail whispered. He wasn’t being careful, he was too focused on the image of Ian curled on the desk scared in his mind. His eyes focused there first, almost relieved he didn’t see the boy curled up. He looked around the room, hoping for a sign and almost missed the small boy on the pillow on his bed. He rushed over falling to his knees, relieved he was even still here.

“Ian, buddy, are you awake?” Mik’s soft voice surrounded him. Ian was too scared to move. He came in angry like when he left, he didn’t want to be punished. He felt a warm hand cup around him, and he yelped. “It’s ok Ian. I’m so sorry I left like that. I didn’t mean to be gone all night, I fell asleep working in my office. I was angry and wanted to get the work done so we could talk this weekend.”

Ian slowly looked up at Mik. He didn’t look like he was lying, but the bad human hadn’t at first either. This was Mik though, maybe he could believe it. He sat up and inched away from the hand that had settled near him. Mik frowned, but didn’t move to touch him again. Ian hugged himself, waiting for the punishment about the papers. He was happy Mik was here, but he knew better. Mik couldn’t just be back and not angry anymore. There had to be something coming, right?

“Buddy, give me a second all right? I stopped at a store on the way home. I got something for you.” Mikhail went back out to his car, making sure not to shut the doors. He didn’t want Ian to think he’d left again. He grabbed the box, a silent prayer to anyone that this would help. There had been a lot of options, but this had the best layout for their situation. First he’d talk about how Ian has been acting then show him the gift. He moved carefully going back inside, shutting doors quietly. Ian was on the pillow shaking. Mikhail almost dropped the box, clearly this had been worse than he thought. He sat down on the ground in front of the bed, placing the box to the side.

“Ian, buddy, why are you shaking?” he whispered. Ian just seemed to get smaller. Mikhail felt guilt eating at his heart, what happened while he was gone? He saw Ian try to look at what he’d carried in and things clicked. His eyes went wide. “Oh, oh no, Ian. Ian, please look at me. God I’m an idiot please buddy.”

Ian was scared, he didn’t want to see what Mik brought. He knew Mik was better than the bad human, but he could be like them if he wanted. Ian slowly turned to face him, hugging himself tighter. Ian looked into Mik’s eyes. He looked...sad, guilty maybe. Ian stopped shaking, confusion overtaking his fear. He watched as Mikhail’s face shifted to something he couldn’t quite understand. Ian wasn’t sure if it was a good thing, but didn’t look away. He watched as Mik reached down next to him picking up the box.

“W-what’s that?” he asked. He meant to stay quiet, but he couldn’t keep his curiosity under control. He didn’t want to hear Mik tell him he bought a cage. He saw Mik smile wider making a shiver go down his spine. This was what he wanted though, wasn’t it? For all the pretending to stop. He had almost believed it wasn’t pretend though.

“Well, I was trying to think of something to help with how things were going with us recently. So I picked this up on the way home. What do you think?” There was a long pause and Ian wasn’t sure why. “Buddy, I can’t really get your opinion with your eyes closed.”

Ian didn’t realize he’d shut his eyes again. He swallowed thickly, then slowly opened them. He could barely process what he saw in front of him. The box showed a house, with open doors, but the roof was taken off. It seemed like it had only one floor and a couple rooms to it. It looked just like a small house. Ian sat there staring, he couldn’t believe this was what he was being shown. Shouldn’t it be a cage? He had been causing so much trouble. Isn’t that what Mik meant?

“I wanted to get something for now, we can pick out a nicer one online later. After how things went this week, I thought you might feel better with a spot out of the walls that’s your own. I’d meant to spend some more time picking out the first one, but after yesterday I thought it would help. So I stopped and grabbed this” Mik moved the box up a little, looking away. Ian couldn’t believe this was real, it was a present for him.

“W-why?” Ian asked. “A-aren’t you mad at me? F-for how I was acting”

Mik put the box down again, then placed his arms on the bed with his head on top. Ian stepped back a bit, falling on the uneven surface. He saw Mik’s green eyes filled with something he couldn’t understand. Is this where he finally found out the truth? That the house is for when he’s good or something.

“Ian,” Mik’s voice was serious, “even if I’m mad nothing bad is going to happen. I’m not going to hurt you, maybe take the TV away or something, but nothing you need. I definitely won’t take your freedom away. You thought I’d brought home a cage didn’t you?”

Ian shrunk in on himself while nodding. Mikhail couldn’t blame him. The human left angry then came back with something for him. He felt stupid, he hadn’t considered how that might sound. This wasn’t going to be an easy adjustment for either of them, but maybe this could reassure him at least. Mikhail slowly pulled his hand out from under his head and reached toward Ian. He moved slowly, giving Ian ample time to tell him no or show discomfort. He wouldn’t push anything right now. As his hand got closer he saw Ian flinch. He stopped and just left his hand where it was.

“Ian, I told you, you can set the rules for how we do things. I’m not able to get your size right now or I would, I know that makes this easier.” Mikhail hated when his emotions ran high. He wanted to make Ian feel better right now, and human height isn’t helping. Ian didn’t seem to react. Mikhail tried to think of what he should do. He could just leave him in the room on his own. Although they still had to talk about the messes and the papers it could wait. “All right bud, I’ll lea-”

“W-wait,” Ian called out. “C-can we set up the house?” Ian watched Mik’s face soften, a warm smile forming.

“Of course, where were you thinking?” Mik asked. Ian looked away, unsure how Mik would feel.

“C-could we put it on the table there?” he pointed to the nightstand Mikhail had put the pillow on the night Ian had told him about his past. His eyes went wide, but he looked at Ian warmly.

“Sure, just let me know if you ever want it moved,” he said. Ian felt a sense of relief come over him. It wasn’t only all right he wanted to stay near Mik, he could change his mind. He moved closer to the edge of the pillow so he could watch Mik open the box. He pulled out the house that looked like it would take up the whole table, and a roof that was separate. Mik placed the house on the table then carefully put the roof on top. He inspected it for a second before pulling the roof off again and turning back to Ian.

“All right, so here's the more fun part,” Mik said. “It comes with a bunch of furniture to put inside, if you want to head over I’ll put down each bit as you tell me. Just need you hanging out in the house so you can tell me where it all goes.”

Ian jumped up, more excited than he expected. Only to lose his footing on the pillow again. He fell forward this time, and completely off the bed. He closed his eyes expecting the hard floor, but landed on something warm. He opened his eyes and saw Mik staring down in concern. Mik didn’t say anything though and carefully held his hand up to the table so Ian could climb off. The two spent the rest of the day setting up Ian’s house.

They did talk eventually, but Ian stayed in his house and Mikhail sat looking in from the floor. Mikhail couldn't help the smile he had that Ian was talking while he was human, they’d figure this out.

[nordic-language-love]

2022 Plans and Goals

I actually gave up making new years resolutions many years ago because I never stuck to them. I’m not about to change that, but I have some things I’d like to achieve in 2022, so I want to make plans. Plans that I actively work towards achieving. I want to update every month (or week?) with the steps I took towards achieving that goal to encourage me to actually work on them, even if it’s only a little.

Anyway, these are the goals I have in mind (under a cut because it’s long)

1. Pass the Bergenstest

Obviously this is my number 1 language priority! My written test is booked for the 1st of April. I’ve not booked the spoken test yet, but I might have to wait until September as I’ve not had any response from the UK test centres about taking the spoken test and I can’t afford to go to Norway twice in one month.

2. Pull all my skills up to C1 level

At the moment, I think my reading/listening are about C1 level (not a high C1 though), but my speaking/writing are definitely not at that level. It might be a little ambitious to think I could get to that level overall this coming year, but I intend to try!

3. Complete Norwegian Tutor and Enjoy Norwegian textbooks

I’ve had both of these books for ages and I’ve still not finished them. I have maybe 5 chapters left of Norwegian Tutor, but I’ve barely done more than flick through Enjoy Norwegian. It’d be nice to complete them both!

4. Intensively study another language for 3 months (?)

After I’ve passed the Bergenstest, I want to spend some time on a different language. I might pick up Spanish again, or maybe Japanese, but I’m also tempted to start a completely new language and see how good I can get in 3 months (probably Russian because I have so many Russian students). I’m still not 100% decided I’ll do this at all. At the moment I’m leaning towards Japanese because my mum got me some Japanese bilingual short stories and Genki for Christmas, but we’ll see!

Non-Language Goals/Plans

Although I won’t really post about these on this blog, I’m putting them here as a record for myself, as well as for accountability’s sake.

5. Move out of my current house

I’ve lived here for 10 years, and now with my boyfriend living with me it’s just too small. I’d never planned for us to live here together, and certainly not for 3 years. We need to move out. It’s gonna be an absolute ballache, but it’ll be worth it! I think my goal for January is to make a list of all the things that need fixing/replacing and planning a timeline/budget for that (it’s gonna be expensive ugh but hopefully my dad will help seeing as we have joint ownership and all).

6. Learn to fan dance properly

I love my fans! But I currently feel like I just wave them around disjointedly while awkwardly walking/running around. Of course, this goal isn’t easy to measure, so here’s some measurable goals I can work towards:

Perfect antispin flowers

Learn simple body tracing patterns

Learn reels and weaves

Perform smooth transitions between different patterns

See a noticeable difference in my performance skills when comparing two videos side by side

I may also track the time I spend practising. Of course, I’ll keep track of this goal properly on my performer side blog @jo-jenova

7. Go to the dentist

This is super embarrassing to admit (and I’m sure some of you will be horrified) but I’ve been avoiding the dentist for years. I hate them and I’m terrified that they’ll tell me I need to spend thousands to fix my teeth. But if that’s the case then ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away, soo... I need to pull myself together and just do it lol.

8. Prioritise my health more

*Quick trigger warning for mentions of food, diet, exercise and weight loss. Scroll down to the next heading if you don’t want to read this bit!*

I used to train 10-15 hours a week and eat at least semi-healthy. Now I barely exercise and eat a lot of junk food. I’m pretty sure this is at least partially responsible for my lack of energy and I just don’t feel like me, really. So I want to change some things, for example:

Move daily, even if it’s just 10-15 minutes of yoga

Swap unhealthy snacks for fruit and veggies

Stop snacking right before mealtimes

Drink water instead of pepsi max and tea

Cut down on meat

Eat mostly home cooked meals / cut down on takeaways

Stop eating after 9pm

I plan to focus on one aspect every couple of weeks (rather than trying to do everything at once). So one fortnight I’ll focus on increasing my exercise, then the next I’ll focus on eating more fruit and vegetables, then drinking water etc. And if during the weeks I’m focusing on water intake my fruit/veg intake drops off, that’s okay. If I can keep it up, awesome. I just don’t want the pressure on myself to do all of these things all of the time. Maybe I’ll have a primary goal for each month and a secondary goal.

** End of trigger warning **

I may think of some more things to add to this list, but this is all I’ve got for now! I’m going into this year with a surprising amount of positivity given the past two years have uh. sucked. C’mon 2022, don’t let me down!

What goals do you guys have?

[swan-of-sunrise]

Civil War (Chapter Four)

Summary: In the aftermath of the U.N. bombing, (Y/N) receives a call from Steve and is ‘invited’ to the Joint Counter Terrorism Centre in Berlin for questioning.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I’m not too sure about this chapter, it’s all over the place and I’ve rewritten it twice so I can’t tell if it’s good or not lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Four (Previous Chapter)

While the paramedics finished fastening the bandage around her head, (Y/N) sat in the back of the ambulance and silently watched the chaos unfolding. A fire crew was busy hosing down the still-smoldering ruins and a medical helicopter flew overhead as different government agencies began setting up their base camps on the outskirts of the caution tape. The CIA agent who’d questioned her about the incident had informed her that a large-scale bomb had gone off next to their building, injuring over seventy people and killing twelve; she’d gone on to explain to her that if not for T’Challa’s last-minute warning, many more people would’ve perished in the blast.

Poor T’Challa, (Y/N) thought to herself with a pang of sadness. His father, King T’Chaka, had been the closest person to the blast and was killed instantly. The paramedics completed their work and she thanked them before quickly getting out of their way, knowing that there were many others who still needed to be helped. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her ash-covered blazer, she walked along the edge of the crime scene towards where she’d last seen Natasha and T’Challa; different international news reporters were documenting the tragedy and as she passed by one of them, their words almost made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. The infamous Hydra agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations…”

(Y/N) continued walking, afraid that she’d be recognized if she lingered too long, and finally sat down on an empty bench near the CIA’s base camp. Once she got over the initial shock of learning the suspected identity of the bomber, she couldn’t help but feel confused; Bucky had been on the run for over two years, ever since the Battle at the Triskellion and the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., and there hadn’t been any sign of him since. Steve and Sam had tracked down every single lead they could find but to no avail. To her, it didn’t make much sense that after all that time, the wanted man would suddenly decide to do something as massive as bomb the United Nations.

The buzzing of her cell phone in her pocket jolted her out of her thoughts; pulling it out and glancing down at the screen, her eyes widened in recognition and she was quick to answer it. “Hello?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Um…yeah, a little. My right eardrum ruptured from the noise of the blast and my lungs feel like crap, but other than that I’m okay…” She trailed off, listening as Steve let out a shaky sigh of relief. Try as she might, memories of their recent fight came to mind but she forced aside her irritation with him as she continued. “Listen Steve, I just heard about Bucky and I-”

“You’re gonna tell me the same thing Nat did: to leave it up to the Task Force and stay home.”

She blinked, taken aback by the shortness of his tone. “Well, I think she has a point about staying out of it but what I was actually going to say is that-”

“I’m the only one who can bring him in alive, (Y/N), so that’s what I’m gonna do. I just wanted to call and tell you myself so that you didn’t believe I was hiding things from you.” Steve abruptly interrupted and after a moment of tense silence, the hard edge in his voice softened a little. “Look, I’m…take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay? Don’t forget to change that bandage of yours every few hours.”

The call disconnected as (Y/N)’s head snapped up in shock and she hurriedly scanned her surroundings, but the super-soldier was nowhere to be seen. “Bastard.”

“(Y/N)!” She looked over in time to see Natasha striding over to her, her brow furrowed in worry. “(Y/N), I just got a call from Steve a few minutes ago, and-” The spy stopped herself short as she examined her assumedly-angered expression. “I take it you got one, too.”

“Yep, and I’d rather not discuss it right now if that’s okay.”

Natasha nodded. “Fine by me, hot-shot, but we should be going; our presence has been…um, requested in Berlin. At the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, to be precise.”

Frowning, (Y/N) stood and walked alongside her. “Our? What’s all this got to do with me?” The spy gave her a pointed look and she exhaled through her nose. “Ah, yes, my ‘association’ with Steve Rogers. They’ve guessed that he’d be the first one after Bucky and since I’m his fiancé, they want to hold me for questioning.”

“Pretty much…but there’s another reason that I’ll let Tony tell you about himself when we arrive. It was his bad idea, after all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By that point, (Y/N) was well and truly sick of flying; they’d taken the Quinjet to the Berlin-Tegel Airport, where a car had picked them up and drove them to the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. If her head hadn’t hurt so much and she were in a better mood, she would’ve taken the time to admire all the historical landmarks they passed by. And here I thought that week we spent dealing with Ultron was exhausting, she thought with a humorless smile, getting out of the car and walking alongside Natasha as they entered the parking garage’s elevator.

“When you’re questioned by an agent, be sure to answer as honestly as possible.” (Y/N) glanced up from her dirty sneakers and met Natasha’s serious expression. “Cooperation’s the only thing that’s gonna help Steve and Sam out right now, (Y/N). Don’t let the agent get inside your head, though; make sure that you’re the one in control of the situation, just like I’ve taught you. If I know them like I think I do, they’re gonna try and get more valuable intel out of you than just Steve’s whereabouts.”

She nodded after a brief moment of hesitation and the spy’s shoulders relaxed a little. The elevator stopped at the top floor and its doors slid open to reveal two men; one was Tony Stark, dressed stylishly in a dark-grey suit with a tense smile on his face and the other was an older man with salt-and-pepper colored hair that she didn’t recognize. The stranger stepped forward and shook Natasha’s outstretched hand. “Miss Romanoff, thank you for coming in so quickly.”

“Of course,” Natasha replied before glancing over at (Y/N). “(Y/N), this is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander of the CIA. Agent Ross, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

Agent Ross smiled and shook her hand, but (Y/N) got the distinct feeling that he was studying her expression and analyzing her behaviors. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, Miss (Y/L/N); my niece and nephew are big fans of your novel.”

(Y/N) murmured her thanks and followed the trio as they walked down a covered sky-way, not noticing that Tony had fallen into step beside her until he quietly asked, “How’re you holdin’ up, Austen?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve had better days.” She remarked, glancing over at the billionaire with a raised brow. “Nat mentioned something about a bad idea you wanted to run by me?”

“Oh, I have a couple of ‘em, but I’ll let you get changed before I go ahead and tell you. When I heard about the bombing, I figured that you and Romanoff would need clothes so I packed some before I left the compound.”

Touched by his thoughtfulness, (Y/N) allowed him to lead her to a private bathroom and quickly changed out of her soot-covered clothing; she felt a little bit like her usual self as she emerged from the bathroom, but the comforting feeling her change of clothes had inspired soon disappeared when the billionaire ushered her into a glass-walled conference room in the middle of what she imagined was a control room.

“Sorry if it seems like we’re sitting inside a fish bowl but this is the only place where we can talk without being overheard.” Tony sat down across from her at the long table, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “And I’m sorry about the civilian consultant thing, Austen. We all found out about it last night when Secretary Ross called to ask who’d decided to sign; he seemed crankier than usual when we told him that we didn’t know what you’d decided to do.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and leaned her elbow onto the table, resting her head in her hand with an exasperated sigh. “What, does Ross think that if I sign then that’ll make Steve suddenly change his mind and decide to sign too?”

“Pretty much…but truth be told, he’s not the only one.” Her brow rose in surprise as Tony sat forward in his chair, an uncharacteristically subdued expression on his face. “Look, (Y/N), none of us wants to see Rogers gone. The team needs him and we both know how much he needs the team, so…I was hoping that if you signed, you’d be able to convince him that he’d be doing the right thing by signing too. Once Rogers signs them, then Wilson and Maximoff should follow suit and we’d have our Earth’s Mightiest Heroes all back together again in no time. What do you think?”

“You make it sound so easy…and I wish it was, Tony. I really do.” She stood and walked over to the glass wall, her eyes trained on a large computer monitor that bore her fiancé’s photograph on a wanted poster. “But you and I also know that once Steve’s made up his mind about something it’s impossible to change it. I tried telling him that refusing to sign might put our future together in jeopardy, and do you know what he said?”  Turning back around, she met the billionaire’s gaze and mirthlessly smiled. “He said that he couldn’t afford to be selfish and he left it at that.” A lump formed in her throat as she blinked away her tears and shrugged. “He respects the hell out of you, Tony, so maybe you’ll have a better change at convincing him. I’ll be there when you do, but…since I haven’t decided what I’ll do yet, I honestly don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

Just as Tony opened his mouth to reply, the glass door of the conference room slid open and none other than Sharon Carter poked her head into the room. “If you’re ready, Agent Ross would like to ask you some questions.” (Y/N) stood and spared Tony a final glance before following the agent down the hall, pointedly ignoring the jealous pang in the pit of her stomach as she did. “Romanoff mentioned that you weren’t much of a coffee drinker, so I brought you some hot chocolate instead.” She looked over to see Sharon holding out a to-go cup out towards her, a hesitant but friendly sort of smile on her face. “Might help settle your nerves before your talk with Ross.”

She accepted the beverage with a murmur of thanks and took a sip as they continued down the hall; giving the agent a sideways glance, she cleared her throat before saying, “I’m sorry about your aunt, Sharon.”

“Thank you…and thank you for everything you said in your eulogy. Actually,” Sharon stopped beside the stairwell door and gestured towards it. “We don’t have much time, but do you mind if we talk for a quick sec?” (Y/N)’s brow furrowed a little but she nodded and followed her into the stairwell, watching as she leaned back against the wall and shuffled her feet. “You meant a lot to Aunt Peggy, (Y/N), but I don’t think you know just how much she appreciated you. Back before her dementia got worse, she’d call me after her visits with Rogers and we’d talk for hours; she worried about him, always telling me that he was deliberately keeping himself from embracing his new life and that there wasn’t anything she could do to help. But then you came into his life and from what she told me, it was a night and day difference; knowing that you were there for Steve, as a friend and then as something more, gave her piece of mind. She really liked you, (Y/N), and she really respected you. I just thought that you should know that.”

“Thank you, Sharon, that…that really means a lot to me.”

The agent nodded, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. “I would’ve told you all that after the funeral but you and Steve were sort of…well, you know…arguing. I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping, it’s just that you both were kind of loud and the cathedral has crazy-good acoustics.” (Y/N) started to reply but Sharon cut her off with a firm head shake. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, (Y/N). I’m not exactly a fan of the Accords but just between us? I think that Steve was out of line back there.” Unsure of what to say, she nodded once and took another sip of her drink as the agent looked down at her wristwatch. “C’mon, we should get going before Ross starts looking for us.”

The two of them left the stairwell and continued down the hallway to an office; Agent Ross was seated at a desk and reading through a file, looking up from his work with a friendly smile. “Thank you, Agent 13, that’ll be all.” With one last glance, Sharon turned and left them alone. “Please, take a seat.” (Y/N) sat down in the chair across from him and crossed her leg over her knee, trying her best to remain cool and collected. “Miss (Y/L/N), we have reason to believe that Captain Rogers plans on interfering with the apprehending of the Winter Soldier; can you tell me when you last spoke to your fiancé?”

“A little over three hours ago in Vienna. He called to ask if I’d been injured during the bombing and then he warned me that he was planning on bringing in Bucky himself. That’s all he said.”

Ross nodded and gestured to the bandage wrapped around her head. “And are you okay?”

“Yes, it’s only a ruptured eardrum; the bandage is just keeping the ear from becoming infected.” (Y/N) shrugged, taking another sip of her drink before setting it down on the desk. “Truth be told, I’ve had worse.”

Nodding again, the agent picked up the open file on his desk and scanned its contents. “Yeah, it seems like you have. In March of 2014, you suffered a moderate-grade concussion, GSW on your left thigh and a severe muscle contusion on the other thigh; it also says here that you even needed an emergency blood transfusion upon arrival at the hospital.” He looked back up at her with an arched brow. “Sounds like a lot for a civilian to go through.”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise. “I-it was-”

“And according to witness statements from the Avengers, the Artificial Intelligence known as Ultron targeted you last year because of your close relationship with Steve Rogers, is that correct?” Nodding, she struggled to keep her expression neutral as her fingers began reflexively tracing along her old gunshot wound. “It looks like you were just a pawn in Ultron’s plan to break the Avengers apart, and it very nearly worked.”

Her first instinct was to snap at the agent but after recalling Natasha’s earlier warning, she swallowed her frustration and gave him a fleeting smile. “The CIA certainly cares a lot about historical fiction novelists, doesn’t it?”

Ross chuckled and leaned forward in his seat. “Only the ones engaged to rogue super-soldiers, of course. Speaking of super-soldiers, can you elaborate on the nature of your fiancé’s connection to James Barnes?”

“There’s nothing much to say that hasn’t already been said; Steve and Bucky were childhood friends who fought together during World War II and when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, Steve and Sam tried searching for Bucky but they never found him.”

Nodding, the agent reached over and moved his computer monitor to face her; on the screen was a blurry image of a man wearing dark clothing, obviously taken from grainy security camera footage. “And is this James Barnes?”

“Yes, although I’ve only seen him in person once and this photo’s a little blurry.”

“Okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight: Steve’s old pal bombs the U.N. meeting that you, his fiancée, was attending and instead of rushing to your side like any other partner would do, he decides to leave the country to apprehend Barnes himself. Does that pretty much sum things up?” (Y/N)’s jaw clenched tightly and she stared silently at the agent in front of her, who tilted his head to the side as he considered her. “You see, the CIA knows that you and Captain Rogers are close but what we don’t know is how far you’d go to protect a man who doesn’t sound like he’s got your best interests at heart.”

Before (Y/N) could finally lose her temper, another agent poked his head into the office. “I’m sorry, Agent Ross, I know you said that you didn’t want to be disturbed but this is urgent.”

“Fine, fine…”

Ross stood and followed the agent out into the hallway, leaving the office door cracked open just far enough for her to make out some of what they were saying. “Rhodes…all of them arrested…Bucharest…ETA in less than six…”

Thank goodness they’re all right, (Y/N) thought as relief washed over her, they’ll both be charged with obstruction of justice but at least they’re alive. Some of her elation disappeared as her mind drifted back to Agent Ross’ line of questioning; Natasha was right, the CIA was taking the golden opportunity to get intel on Captain America with the knowledge that what they were doing was protected under the Sokovia Accords. The thought of being manipulated and used that way infuriated her but what angered her more was that this all stemmed from Steve’s unwillingness to consider the consequences of not signing the Accords. You’re in control here, she told herself with a calming breath, just do everything Nat told you to do and you’ll be okay…

Agent Ross reentered the office and sat back down with an expectant smile on his face. “Well, now, where were we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This story’s a little more challenging to write than The Winter Soldier or Age of Ultron, there’s so much angst to deal with and writing these chapters really takes a lot out of me, so any likes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated ❤️

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, you guys are truly amazing! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=f5f309da80a74a63

Chapter Five

Civil War Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien​ @lahoete​ @awkward117​ @cminr​ @natdrunk​ @momc95​ @savedbystyle​ @miraculouscloud​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @khuang3​ @supersouthy​ @benakenalove​ @brooke0297​ @hufflepeople​ @becausewelie​​ @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum​ @ladydmalfoy​ @mads-weasley​ @username23345​ @crist1216​ @aesthethickks​

[yeojaa]

( VELVETEEN RABBIT. )

What do you get when you mix Thumper and Bambi?  Answer:  Jeon Jungkook.

pairing.  french lop bunny!jjk x ragdoll cat f!reader.

genre + rating.   hybrid!au set in college.  super fluffy, a little angsty, with a dash of smut to balance it all out.  explicit towards the end because i just can’t help myself.  oops.

tags / warnings.  honestly, this jungkook should just come with his own warning.  but more realistically, mentions of kook using a scrunchie, kook being cute, kook railing his date after using the world’s worst puns...  the usual.

wc.  4.4k

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ as always become, c’mon.  i’m me.  she’s her.  

author note.  this was written as part of @thebtswritersclub​‘s a hybrid fest and is gloriously late (i’m so sorry @ditttiii​​).  i’ve never written anything hybrid-related before so hopefully you enjoy.  feedback goes a long way!  xoxo

He orders the same thing every time he’s in.  Iced Americano, no room for cream, and a single almond croissant.  (Every once in a while, he switches it up for matcha but that’s exceedingly rare.)  He always pays with a tap of his wrist - a sleek black AppleWatch with rubber band - and flashes his trademark slightly too-big smile.  All the girls swoon.  So do the guys.  Everyone except for you.

He’s unnervingly handsome, with long dark ears that sometimes hang in front of his eyes.  You’ve caught him with them pulled back Lola Bunny-style, knotted with a loose silk scrunchie that looks nearly as soft as his fur.  His hair’s usually unkempt, tossed into a little sprout of a bun, overly long fringe falling all over his big round eyes.  He wears butterfly clips sometimes, though that’s usually on days where he isn’t freshly sweaty and carrying his gym bag.  They appear in his hair when it’s damp from a shower, the smell of papaya and honey clinging to every inch of him.  You know, because you have a great nose - one that’s sensitive to every smell under the sun but especially his.  (You try not to think about it much.)  

It’s a Wednesday morning when you notice the change.  It doesn’t register at first, acknowledgement coming in a curious sniff at the air.  Weird. 

“Thanks,” he says like clockwork, a well-oiled polite machine, deceptively slender hands receiving the exceedingly hot cup without a care in the world. He’s got his usual bag over his shoulder - overly big, black, almost tactical - and a pair of comfortable looking pants on that seem more like they belong on your beloved grandmother.  Somehow, he rocks it (but he always does).  “Have a nice day.”

Because of course he says that.  Of course he steals the words right out of your mouth, turns them back on you as easy as he makes your heart rattle around in your chest like it’s a Friday night bingo ball. 

He moves toward the bar - he only ever grabs three napkins, tucks them into the slot on the left side of his bag - but pauses halfway there.  Rooted to the same spot as always, sleek ears following the imposing line of his shoulders.  

One, two—

The thumping starts, so quiet it’s almost negligible.  But you catch it, because you always do and because you’re the reason for it. 

He turns then, levels you with a look from the corner of those pretty, pretty eyes and you can’t help but laugh, openly, unashamedly, with the back of your hand plastered to your mouth. A true ojou-sama. 

His mouth quirks - does that funny thing where he sucks in his cheek then rolls it back out with his tongue - and you think he might finally say something.  Call you out for writing his name wrong for the past five weeks, finding more and more creative ways to do so every time.  Even occasionally using nicknames - silly things you’d come up with while on the walk home, or during lunch, or in bed.

“Good one,”  he states, laugh lines threading over his face, prominent around his eyes.  His nose wiggles with the sound - another of his traits that comes out to play often.  Your favourite of them all, if you’re being honest.

“Anytime.”  

You don’t realise it’s him until it’s too late, until you’re practically running into him, bouncing off the broad expanse of his back with a startled squeak.  Lucky for you, you’re quick on your feet, catching yourself before your skull can become too well-acquainted with the red brick wall to your right.

“You okay?”  Though he asks, you have a sneaking suspicion he knows you’re not and an even stronger suspicion that he’d been waiting for you, hovering past the entrance of the cafe with his big university hoodie on.

“Barely,”  you manage around a laugh, straightening the backpack slung over your shoulders, packed to the brim with goodies you got to bring home at the end of the night and two of your textbooks.

“Should watch where you’re going.”  

This is the most conversation you’ve had - ever.  But it’s fun, easy, organic and natural.  You wonder why that is. 

“You should watch where you’re standing, actually.”

He’s so much bigger than you, imposingly tall (especially being part of the Leporidae family) and wide in the chest.  Not bulky by any means, but big.  Strong.  Threaded with a strength you don’t normally see in hybrids of his kind.  It probably has to do with how often you see him covered in sweat and panting, basketball hooked under his arm, soccer cleats tied to his bag.

When he speaks again, it’s full of mirth, squeezing his round eyes near shut.  “Got a problem with me standing here?”  

You nod, solemn as ever (which is really never, but that’s besides the point).  “It’s dangerous to block entryways, didn’t you know?”  You’re gesturing to the awning, the dark interior just past the window of the shop.  “You’re loitering, Jungkook.”

“So you do know my name.”  You can tell he’s not surprised - that he’s hamming it up for dramatics, softly pink lips rounded in a little ‘O’.  He’s cute like this, you think.  Playful in a way you’ve never seen before.  

“I do?” 

There’s that cheek thing again.  It’s even more attractive up close, the shape of his jaw thrown into prominent relief when he sucks in a breath.  

“You just said it.”

You nod, thoughtful, finger tapping upon your chin.  “I guess I did.”

“Say it again,”  he states, expression inscrutable, eyes bright.  They’re so glossy even under the dimmed streetlights, impossibly big and undeniable.  So easy to get lost in - if your attention weren’t caught by something else.

“What is that?”  

You’d noticed it earlier in the day, caught the scent in passing sometime during the early hours.  You’d been unable to place it then, too distracted by freshly ground coffee, a girl’s three too many spritzes of Daisy by Marc Jacobs, and baking banana loaves.

It’s heady, masculine.  A strong musk that sinks into your nose and makes it twitch, ears rotating as if that’ll help pin the smell down.  

“What’s what?”  You hadn’t realised how close you’d become, your face five seconds from planting directly into his chest.  (It’d probably be nice - you know how soft your school’s merchandise is.)  “Are you okay?”  He asks because you’re now, actually, planting your face right against the worn navy cotton.  It’s terribly nice, silk upon your cheek.  

You answer more to his clothes than to him, nosing into the fabric. “You smell different.”

You feel more than hear his laughter, the sound barreling past his teeth seconds later.  The vibrations running along his spine jostle you from your position face first upon him but you don’t mind.  It doesn’t send you far, dark eyes peering up into the face of the bunny hybrid.  True to his kind, his nose is twitching, puffs of laughter expanding his cheeks when he meets your stare. 

“No I don’t.”

“You do.”  Tone firm, a finger lands upon the neatly embroidered N on his hoodie.  The white stitching stands in stark contrast to your baby blue nails.  “You smell… off.”

Whether Jungkook’s offended or not, you can’t tell.  He’s got that same strange expression on his face - the one from this morning when he’d received his coffee.  It’s made up of too many moving parts:  the flutter of his lashes, the coil of his jaw, the minute tick of the corner of his mouth.  You can’t read him for shit, somehow more confused now than in your 300-level art history class.  (You’d taken it as one of your optional electives assuming it’d be an easy A.  You were wrong.)

“Sorry you think so,”  he hums, looking down at you.  You’ve seemed to fully forget the meaning of personal space, edged up beside him as if you’re best friends and not just two ships passing in the night. 

“It’s not bad.”  Really, it isn’t.  It’s strong and sensual, vegetal in a way, calming in another.  But it isn’t unwelcome. 

In fact, you think you might like this scent a little more - less sweet than what normally clings to his skin, natural honeycomb rather than processed sugar.  It zings across your teeth, pieces broken up and scattered behind your molars.  You can practically taste it.  Him.

“Is that so?”  

“Yep.”

You share a look - one that says more than all the words you’ve ever spoken, that threads together all the silly laughter, narrowed stares, (written) flirtations.  It settles between the two of you, filling the spaces with something akin to cotton, light and airy and soft.

The desire to speak lingers, hidden just beyond the cotton candy dusting.  Should you?  Shouldn’t you?  You still have no idea what he’s doing here, a street urchin making his rounds on the campus village.  

He beats you to it.  “Can I walk you back to your dorm?”  

You don’t think you could want anything more.  “Sure.”

Silence falls again but it’s comfortable, a caress rather than a crutch.  The grounds are surprisingly quiet - wayward students on their way to the library or heading home from lectures.  There are no picnic blankets spread across the grass, no gaggles of girls dressed in school colours.  It feels like the first day of fall, change sitting heavy in the air. 

“So—”  You start.

He finishes,  “do you wanna go on a date with me?” 

That’s surprising.  (Or is it?  You’re not really sure.)  You nearly trip over your own two feet in your haste to look at him, entire body swivelling on the spot because apparently you can’t just turn your head like a normal person.  Something something all or nothing. 

“What?”  

“Do.  You.  Want.  To—”  He’s being insufferable for the hell of it.  You can see it in his eyes, glossy things shining down at you like he’s got the entire fucking nightsky hung in them.  

“Not if you keep that up,”  you retort, though you both know you’re lying.  You’ve been waiting - wishing, wanting - for this moment since the day you laid eyes on him.  Since Yuri had elbowed you so hard in the ribs you’d thought you’d be bruised for days, since Jae had rambled on and on for his entire shift about the cute new bunny who’d come in that morning.  Since that very first wrongly spelt name on his plastic cup and every visit since.  

“Is that a challenge?”  

“You won’t get it in.”  

He scoffs, loud and drawn out, cheek rounding with disbelief at your disbelief.  How can you possibly doubt him - school basketball star and all-around athletic freak of nature? 

“What do I get if I do?”  The ball rests in his palm, poised to be shot through the hoop, sunk without making contact with the rim.  He’s confident - he’s done it a million times.  

“A pat on the back?”  As much as you tease him - loop mockery around nearly every syllable you speak, you’re endlessly supportive, already carrying the fruits of his labour under your arms.  A Pikachu shoved haphazardly into the purse slung across your body, a Snorlax tucked under your arm at an awkward angle that crushes his poor head, a Sylveon tucked into the side pocket of his joggers.  (The arcade was really into Pokemon, apparently.)  “Me saying thank you?”

“Not good enough.”  He leans in close - those big galaxy eyes practically swallowing you whole - and taps a single finger upon your nose.  It makes your nostrils flare, an itch blooming under his touch.  “Gotta sweeten the deal.”

You must look hilarious because Jungkook’s biting back a smile, smirking down at you.  Then, all at once, without breaking eye contact, he’s extending his arm, flicking his wrist, and— swish!  

In goes the ball, leaving him with a perfect score.  

“I want you to stay the night.”

You think he’s joking.  He must be joking.  This is your third date.  

But he’s staring at you like he’s completely serious, gaze expectant, lips pursed around something that reads like a smile but has your heart doing a strange little one-two step in your chest.  It soars for a moment, high above the clouds like the string orchestra of a choral work - Beethoven’s Ninth in D minor. 

“Are you propositioning me, Jeon Jungkook?”  It’s the same reaction he always has when you say his name: a twitch of his ear, the corner of his bottom lip quirking and then resetting, eyes so sparkly it’s almost absurd.

“No.  I’m just telling you what I want.”

“Huh.”  You should say no.  Guys like him - with charm that oozes out of every pore, whose offhanded smiles break more hearts than you ever have - are almost always bad news.  Too sweet, too funny, simply too much for your feeble heart to take.  

“Is that a yes?”  He’s got you in his clutches - a viper rather than a hare, with a smile so dangerous you’re paralysed by just the sight of it.  (Who needs venom?)

Your words catch in your throat, stick to one another like the deformed gummies at the bottom of the movie theatre bag.  What comes out isn’t what you expect.  “Okay.”

Damn you.  Damn him.  Damn how good he smells and the big dumb grin that spreads over his lips, sunshine in human form, undeniable and warm and cute enough to start a war over.  (That’s probably what’s happening - a vicious battle between your head and your heart.)  

Damn his stupid thumping foot that you can make out over the sound of the video games, the boisterous din.  It’s so cute you can’t help yourself from smiling, mouth pulling and pursing around the delight that begs to be freed.  

“Cool,”  he says, and you almost think that’s not very cool.  He’s so nonchalant, cavalier about it as if it means nothing.  You’d be bothered if you felt like you didn’t know him so well - hadn’t learnt his idiosyncrasies over the last two months.  

How he looks when he laughs really hard, his slightly too-big front teeth taking up all the real estate in his mouth.  How he sounds when he’s tired (groggy, with a lisp that rarely sees the light of day otherwise) or when he’s told he’s wrong (pouty, with his bottom lip jutted out so cutely you want to scream).  How he runs every morning, hits the gym every night, and eats double your protein because fitness, bro!  How his cheat meal of choice is soy garlic fried chicken from the place off-campus and he hates tangy, tart desserts (your lemonade lip gloss not included, he insists).  How he can’t sleep if he’s too hot - which he often is - and he spends way too long combing through his ears with a specialty brush he doesn’t let anyone touch.  How he’s secretly raindrops and gummy bears and hand holding in the car, so much more than his high school superlative of most likely to grace the cover of GQ.

You wonder, because you know those things, does that make you special?  Does it make you immune to the heartbreak that you swear you imagine whenever your mood drops (not often, but often enough)?  

You hope so.

“Let’s go shoot guns?”  He’s tearing you from your reverie, planting an open-mouthed kiss to your temple.  It’s sloppy and not very refined, much less suave than what you’d expect from your school’s soccer captain (and basketball small forward and swim team stand-in).  You suppose that’s why you like him so much - because he’s always surprising you, keeping you on your toes. 

“Let’s.”  You agree, letting your date drag you toward the Time Crisis machine.  It’s blissfully unoccupied, allowing the two of you to slide into place.  He takes the blue gun, you the red.  

He squeezes your hip when you take up position, one eye squeezed shut as you look down the barrel of the plastic weapon.  “Better not let me die.”

“Better not get shot,”  you return.  

He doesn’t listen - failing halfway through the helicopter scene, his shot missing and resulting in some sad miserable death in the form of Continue? blinking across the screen.  Neither of you mind that much though.  He occupies himself on his phone, free hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans.  You play better when he’s not shouting terrible call-outs, nearly crashing into you because he gets so into it.

(How he’s never got a concussion on the basketball/soccer/etc. field before, you’re not sure.)

By the time you’re done - a good five minutes later, you think - Jungkook’s growing restless, tugging at your belt loops enough that you stumble with every shot, nearly knocking yourself out when you have to steady yourself on the centre console.  

“Kook!”  Your glare is barely that, too affectionate to dissuade him from his childish antics.  

He pulls you forward, traps you between his thick thighs, tattooed hands settling comfortably on your hips.  “Let’s go home.”

“Someone’s in a hurry.”

Of course, he doesn’t deny that.

It’s not the first time you’ve been over.  Not even your second or third.  You’ve met up with him before his games, thrown his jersey overtop and helped him wrap his fingers before hitting the court.  You’d even had to grab his cleats for him once, running across campus as he did drills in his socks as punishment.

This time feels different.  You know why but it doesn’t make it an easier pill to swallow.  It lodges somewhere in your throat, makes it hard to breathe when you kick off your shoes and tuck them neatly beside Jungkook’s.  

“Are you hungry?”  He’s already in the small kitchen, glancing over his shoulder at you as you linger in the adjoining hallway, bag halfway over your head.  

“I’m good.”  You are, really.  You’d eaten one donut too many at the arcade, indulged in a little too much disgusting nacho cheese goodness.  You don’t really understand how your date’s still hungry, a cucumber crunching between his teeth when he turns back to you. 

Standing there, vegetable devoured in quick, decisive bites, he looks every inch the French lop bunny he is.

You reach him in the same instant he finishes his midnight snack.  Arms fold around you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing, head dropping to rest comfortably upon yours.  Like this, his ears tickle your cheek - velveteen fur lost to the silk of your hair.  “Are you tired?”  

Another no comes - spoken into the fuzzy fabric of his sweater - and he hums above you, whole frame rattling with the noise.  

“No bed then?”  

At least he’s transparent, you think.

“One track mind much?”  You’re only teasing.  A part of you looks forward to… whatever it is that sits over the horizon, lost past the creaky bedroom door and somewhere beneath his surprisingly soft sheets.  (You’d asked about them once - he’d told you his mother liked to send him housewares to remind him of home.  He was a real mama’s boy that way.)

The monster only laughs, snuggles into your hair like it’s home.  “Can you blame me?”  

You can’t do much of anything when he’s like this - so utterly adorable and enticing and good for your heart that it feels as if you’ve taken a straight dose of morphine.

“Let’s go to bed, Wookie.”  Another nickname, recently coined after you’d spent an evening watching Star Wars for the first time.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You whack him on the way to his bedroom, smack a hand over the arm curled around your shoulders.  He pretends like it hurts, howls in a way he he thinks resembles a wounded animal but really just sounds stupid.  “Not a ma’am.”

“Sir?”  He asks, just to make you laugh. 

“If you don’t shut up—”  

He pushes you through the door of his bedroom while giggling to himself, sound puffing out of his cheeks.  “Don’t be mad, kitten.”  The two of you drop to the bed, a tangle of limbs and silken fur and squeaking laughter.  “You’re so purr-ty when you’re annoyed.”

He’s doing it again.  Dropping those stupid cat puns that make your nose wrinkle, ink-tipped ears folding back against your head.   

“I think I’m hiss-terical, don’t you?”  

Face adamantly buried into his sheets, you don’t give him the time of day.  You don’t even care that your mascara is probably rubbing off against the charcoal fabric, lipstick tint doing potentially irreversible damage.  He knows how unfunny you find these jokes, how you’ve heard them your whole life and roll your eyes so hard your optic nerve might sever every time you face another.  

What’s the point of sharing your pet peeves with him when all he does is lean into them?  Use them against you like it’s the cool thing to do.  Make you wonder what you’d seen in him when he was just another customer, another boy in Seoul National indigo and bedhead so dishevelled it begged to be managed.  

(You’re not sure why you’re so irritated suddenly, caught in the clutches of a moodswing as you curl into your side and ignore his bad jokes.)

Stupid Jeon Jungkook.  Annoying, silly, too-cool-for-his-own-good Jeon Jungkook.  

Jeon Jungkook who makes you second guess your choices, leaves you breathless and confused with just one dumb look.  Who has convinced you into his bed and teases you mercilessly, snickering to himself as his foot bounces against the floorboards because he finds himself that funny.

“Baby?”  The pet name comes, presses itself past your curtain of hair and invades your thoughts.  

You say nothing, adamantly faced away.

He doesn’t like that, sneaking his hands around you and cradling you into his chest as if that’ll lighten the mood.  (It does, a little bit, but you don’t tell him that.)  “Don’t ignore me,”  he mumbles, warmth breath tickling your ears, fingers dancing over the rungs of your ribs as if they’re ivory and not bone, playing a tune only he can hear.

“Stop with the shitty jokes,”  you retort.  You’re being difficult - can feel the vinegar turning your blood even as he tries to will it all away.

You feel the intake, the rise and fall of his broad chest.  You can only imagine how hard he’s biting his tongue, careful to keep his next errant pun at bay.  People don’t tell him no - only you.  Maybe that’s why you do it, to remind him you’re not just like everyone else.  

“Sorry.”  

You don’t tell him to show you how sorry— but he does anyway.

You’re astounded by him, utterly entranced by the way he moves.  How power runs the length of his frame, manoeuvres each of his limbs and turns your own to jelly.  

He’s got you face down, ass up, hands cradling your hips like they’re his home and he can’t bear to let go.  Every upward stroke feels like heaven - feels like a million lifetimes of pleasure you can barely wrap your thoughts around.  He’s impossibly big, thick and long.  The first thought you’d had when he’d stripped his black Calvin Kleins was pretty.  

You realise now there’s nothing pretty about him.  He’s filthy - the devil come to collect as he fucks you across his bed, nearly loses you to the pillows at the head with each snap of his hips.  (What they said about rabbits was true, you think.)

“B-Bunny,”  you sob, scratch over cotton that’s worn soft and smells exactly like your favourite sweater of his.  The linens are defenseless, tangled up and wrinkled with each flex of your fingers, bunched up within your palms every time he buries himself like he’s looking for the answer to life, thinks he might find it within the fluttering walls of your pussy.

“Not my name.”  When he sounds like this, he’s more predator than prey, a thousand volts of electricity shooting up your spine.  He’s demanding and unrelenting.  It makes your head spin.

“Wook—”  

“Not.”  Bunny teeth are just as painful as a feline’s, doing their job as they dig into the flushed skin over your back, marking his territory with two prominent indents right between your neck and shoulder.  “A.”  He ruts into you as if he’s got something to prove, snaps his hips to a beat you can’t keep up with.  “Wookie.”  Grips you so tight you might snap, red blooming beneath his hands.

You sob under him, drool against the pillows because you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut.  (You feel like Jungkook post-win, spewing nonsense as he prattles on about game winning plays with his teammates.)

“K-Kookie.”  It’s what he wants to hear - hits him right in the chest, a bull’s eye to the thing that beats wildly and in tandem with your own.  

His rhythm stutters.  The bed is shaking and not because he’s practically breaking the weak wooden frame.  No, his foot’s thumping, bouncing across the sheets even as he tries to regulate the roll of his hips, return it to the assured, teeth-numbingly good tempo it’d been at.  

It doesn’t work.  You love it anyway.  Like it more, because it means he’s just as affected by you as you are him. Your heart sings, leaps out of your chest on hummingbird wings, and dances around your head.  You’re a goddamn cartoon - Pepé Le Pew in ragdoll form - animated pink shapes circling like a crown.

You don’t care.  You can’t.  Not when he plasters himself to your back and asks you to say it again, begs you to tell him how good he is, tells you how he wants to make you his.  

Who cares if it’s three dates in, if your meeting was cliched and silly and he’s the campus heartthrob?  

You don’t - because he’s yours and when he flips you onto your back and you curl your fingers into his hair, it’s your name he stutters out.  It’s you who has him coming apart beneath your hands, the feel of his ears like velvet, the little whines he huffs growing louder each time you tug at the base.  It’s you who knows what he sounds like as he falls to pieces, throws himself against you as if gravity demands it.  It’s you who holds him to sleep, whose skin acts as a canvas for the doodles he traces as he drifts off.  

It’s you and it’s him and that’s enough.

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