#and i hope it sounds like a positive statement that nothing stands still

[dms-saggicorn]

Thank you, kind stranger.

they’re on the way ⛅

[covenofagatha]

Two professors and a student (Part 3)

Word count: 2700

Warnings: phone sex (kinda?), smut, masturbation, sex

It’s the first Monday of your winter break, and you’re back on campus. Rio had sent out an email to everyone in the course saying that if anyone wanted, she would be in her office all day so you could look at your graded exams. She hadn’t put the grades into your student portal yet, so your heart is pounding as you climb up the stairs to the science building. 

From nerves, yes, but also at the prospect of seeing Rio again. 

You hadn’t heard from her since the text Saturday morning, and yet, you had been able to think of little else. Thoughts of her and Agatha had plagued your mind all weekend and now you weren’t sure how to interact with Rio in an educational setting. 

Should you bring up the dinner tomorrow night? Or just pretend that you were her student and nothing more? 

What if there were other students from your class in her office right now? You sort of hope that’s the case and then you won’t have to stress about it. 

But of course, when you knock on her office door and then push it open, it’s only Rio. 

She’s sitting at her desk, looking expectantly at you, like she knew you would be coming. 

“Hey,” you say, voice sounding more shaky than you intended. 

“Y/n, to what do I owe the pleasure?” She asks, tone silky and suggestive. You gulp and take a few more steps in the office, not missing the way the door clicks shut behind you. 

“I wanted to see my exam?” It comes out as a question instead of a statement. God, it’s almost embarrassing how much this woman affects you, especially after the other night. 

“Of course you did,” Rio says smugly and stands up. She moves some papers around on her desk. Once she finds it, she holds it out to you so you’re forced to close the distance and take it from her. 

Inhaling deeply, you chance a peek at the top and are pleasantly surprised to find a 97% scribbled on the paper. You exhale slowly and you can almost feel the tension seeping out of your body. All the effort you had put in had paid off. 

You flip through the pages of the exam to see where you messed up. You’re so focused on reading her feedback that you don’t notice Rio has moved right behind you until you feel her hot breath on your neck. 

You stiffen and you can feel goosebumps creep up your body. 

“You did so well,” she says, practically whispering it into your ear. “Your attention to detail, the amount of care you put into your work, it’s impressive.” 

“Thank you,” you manage to squeak, hands wrinkling the paper from how tight you’re holding onto it. Her fingers come up to lightly play with your hair and you’re having trouble reading the words on the paper. All you can think about is Rio. 

“What do you think about going to Herb’s tomorrow night?” She murmurs. Herb’s is probably the fanciest steakhouse in town. You whirl around, startling when you realize just how close she actually is to you. Her lips (not that you’re looking) are probably three inches from yours. You can see the little specks of gold in her dark eyes. 

“I couldn’t, that’s too much,” you protest, but she puts a finger to your mouth. You freeze. 

“Agatha and I want to reward you for being such a good girl for us,” she says and a thrill runs through you. “That’s who you are, right?” 

You think you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You nod ever so slightly, afraid to move too much since her finger still hasn’t left your mouth. 

And then she grabs your chin with her hand, causing you to gasp at the sudden roughness, her thumb coming to stroke lightly at your bottom lip. You part your lips reflexively and she smirks, delighting in the obvious effect she has on you. 

“Say it,” she urges. 

“I’m your good girl,” you rasp, heat now flaring in your stomach. Her eyes are locked on yours and you can see desire clouding in them. You’re positive yours look the exact same. Her thumb swipes against your lip again, and this time, you flick your tongue out to brush against it. Her eyes flash and she opens her mouth to say something but there’s a knock on the door and you jump back from her. 

Rio chuckles sardonically, tongue pushing against her inner cheek, and calls out, “Come in!” 

A kid you’ve only seen once or twice in the entire semester pushes open the door and walks in. 

“Um, well, thanks for this,” you say, flustered more than you’ve ever been in your life, and hand the test back to Rio. 

“Professor Harkness is in her office, if you want to stop by and say hi,” she says casually and you don’t know how she is so composed. Is she telling you to go see her? Did Agatha ask to see you? 

You wouldn’t be surprised now if they were counting on you coming to see Rio to see your test. If this whole thing had been planned. 

But if anything, you feel like this is confirmation that they want you too. 

“Okay,” you say, still a little breathless. 

You take a moment to collect yourself once in the hallway again and then in almost a daze, walk to Agatha’s office. 

You had spent so much time there in the semester earlier that you could map it with your eyes closed. And even now, when you haven’t been there in months, it still looks the exact same when you finally arrive and go inside. 

Sitting at her desk, Agatha looks positively ecstatic that you’re there. 

“Rio said–” you begin, but trail off because you’re not sure how to explain what just happened. You’re not sure if Agatha will be jealous. You awkwardly walk over and sit on the couch where you spent so many afternoons. 

“How’d you do on her exam?” She asks, but from her grin, she clearly already knows. 

“Really good,” you say. “I think better than I did on your final.” 

Agatha pouts mockingly. “Trying harder to impress her more than me?” 

“No! I don’t – no – that’s not –” 

She laughs. “Sweetheart, I’m teasing.” She stands up and comes around to sit next to you on the couch. Her body is tilted towards you and her legs come up so her thigh is against yours. You bite back a gasp at the contact. “Did Rio talk to you about dinner tomorrow?” 

You nod and try to contain the blush that is surely spreading on your face, but the memory of Rio calling you a good girl and tasting her thumb on your tongue makes that impossible. “Herb’s?” 

“Have you been?” She perches her elbow on the side of the couch and rests her head in her hand, leaning in closer. 

“No. It’s too fancy for a broke college student like me,” you answer in a lame attempt at a joke. “You guys really don’t have to take me there.” 

Agatha’s other hand comes up to cup your cheek and rub her thumb against it. “Hon, you are so much more than that. And yes, we do. We want to. It’s been awhile since someone has caught our attention like this.” 

Your breath hitches. “Like what?” You dare to whisper. You find yourself also leaning in closer and can’t help from glancing down at her lips. 

She smirks. “Like this.” 

And then she closes the gap and your eyes close in anticipation. But her lips stop when they’re a breath away from yours, maybe just to make sure you want this too. You want this more than life at this point, so you’re the one who makes the first real move and you kiss her. It’s featherlight, just a ghost of a kiss lasting mere seconds, but when you pull back, her normally-blue eyes are dark and hooded. 

Her hand on your cheek tangles itself in your hair and she pulls you in to crash your mouths together in a bruising kiss. 

You moan into her open mouth when her tongue parts your lips and licks against yours. Her fingers move to scrapple at your hips and you figure out what she wants so you maneuver yourself into her lap without breaking the kiss. Her hands slide under your shirt and just rest against your skin, but you have to pull away to throw your head back and moan at the hot contact. Agatha doesn’t hesitate before kissing down the side of your face and then down your neck. She sucks a bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder and your hips cant in her lap. 

“Fuck,” you gasp and her nails dig into your back. You drag her mouth back to yours, panting into the kiss. You can feel her losing composure as well when her teeth nip aggressively at your lower lip. It turns you on beyond words that you’re having this kind of effect on her. 

“Well, would you look at this?” A voice says from the doorway and you jerk back so hard that you topple off Agatha’s lap and onto the couch. Fear spikes through your body as you look and–

–it’s Rio. 

Part of you is relieved that it wasn’t anyone else, but then again, you were just caught making out with her girlfriend. Agatha doesn’t look worried at all, though. If anything, she looks proud of herself. 

“I didn’t realize when I told you to come here I was giving you permission to whore yourself out,” Rio says cooly as she walks over to the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and you scramble off the couch, smoothing your shirt down from where it had ridden up. Agatha rolls her eyes amusedly. “I’ll, um, see you guys tomorrow night?” 

“Six pm, don’t be late,” Rio says, eyes burning into you as you scurry out of the office. 

Your plan is to get to your dorm as fast as possible so you can touch yourself to the memory of the kiss, desperately needing to relieve the ache that has built up in you.  

You haven’t even left the building though when your phone rings. You pull it out of your pocket and, much to your surprise, it’s Rio. Is she calling you to tell you to come back? To scold you?

You swipe to answer it and hesitantly lift your phone to your ear. “Hello?” 

At first, you don’t hear anything specific, just some muffled sounds. You say something again, but you don’t hear either of them. Did Rio butt-dial you?

You’re about to hang up when you finally hear Rio. But she’s not talking to you. 

“How was it?” She says. Her voice sounds far away. Is she asking about you?

“Fuck, Rio, it was so hot,” Agatha says. Your entire body tenses. They’re talking about you. 

Your head starts to spin and you frantically look around for somewhere you can go. 

“Yeah? It looked hot. She looked so good with her tongue in your mouth, Aggie.” 

There’s a bathroom a few yards away. You duck into it and lock yourself in a stall. You’re not sure you could hold the phone any closer to your ear. 

“I thought you were going to kiss her, too,” Agatha admits. “I wanted to watch.” Someone scoffs and you think it might be Rio. 

“I would’ve earlier if one of my idiot students hadn’t interrupted. You should’ve seen her, so desperate for it.” 

“Oh, I think I know what desperation looks like on her.” You can practically hear the smirk in Agatha’s voice and you blush. “And I know what it looks like on you, too.” 

Another huff. There’s silence for a moment and you strain your ears so you don’t miss anything. And then there’s the faintest of sounds, almost like a smacking noise. Your eyes widen. Are they kissing?

“Can you taste her on me?” You hear Agatha mutter between breaths and you think you’re about to combust on the spot. You can’t resist from sliding a hand down your shorts and you gasp at how wet you are. 

The sounds continue and you hear soft moaning, but you’re unable to distinguish who they’re coming from. 

And then: “Get on the desk,” Agatha orders roughly. “I never thanked you properly for Saturday morning.” Rio chuckles breathlessly and you can hear things being cleared off the space. 

You are completely overwhelmed now, by the knowledge that Rio had fucked her the morning after you had seen them (was the dinner invitation before or after?) and now Agatha’s about to return the favor. 

And you are listening. 

“Are you going to tell her about your dream?” Rio asks. You hear the sound of a belt buckle and a zipper. 

“Should I?” Agatha retorts. “Do you think she could handle knowing I had such a good dream about the three of us that you had to take care of me in my sleep?” 

You moan involuntarily and clamp a hand over your mouth. If they catch you listening there’s a chance they’ll hang up and you cannot take that risk. 

“I think she could,” Rio says, words turning into a groan at the end of the sentence. You wonder if Agatha is touching her now. “I saw how much she needed you just now. I think she’d be a good girl and let us do whatever we wanted to her.” 

You nod enthusiastically like they can see you. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” Rio gasps and you think if you listen closely enough, you can hear her wetness. You slide a finger into yourself and mirror what you’re imagining Agatha doing. 

“She is our good girl, isn’t she,” Agatha muses conversationally. You have to bite down your lip so you don’t make any other noises. “Can you picture her doing this to you? Making you feel good with her fingers?” 

Your ring finger joins your middle finger to thrust into you and your thumb rubs at your clit. You are embarrassingly close after making out with Agatha and now this. 

It seems like Rio is, too. “Yes, fuck, I want you both.” You can hear her breaths coming out short and fast and Agatha laughs. 

“You both are so desperate. What am I going to do with you? I have some ideas.” 

You almost beg to hear them. But Rio has that covered for you. 

“Oh yeah?” She whimpers. 

“I’m going to teach her how you like to be eaten out. How you like to be fucked. And then we’ll see if she’s as good of a learner in bed as she is in the classroom.” Rio’s moan is so loud it cuts out the next thing Agatha says. You can’t be mad though because her sounds are just as hot as Agatha’s words. “And then we’ll fuck her. She’ll look so pretty stretched around your fingers. With my tongue in her pussy.” 

You taste blood from how hard you bite your lip after she says that. Your hips stutter and you are so close. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” Rio swears. “I’m going to cum.” 

“Yeah? Cum for me, Rio. And you too, sweetheart.” You can’t stop the gasp that falls from your lips when you register that Agatha is talking to you and hearing her say that sends you over the edge. Rio as well, from the sounds of it. Your orgasm is explosive, even though you’re fucking yourself in a college bathroom stall. You pant and rest your head against the wall, thoroughly ruined. 

Your cheeks are flushed at being played like a fool. Of course they didn’t accidentally call you right before they just happened to have sex. 

There’s movement from Rio and Agatha’s side and then Agatha’s voice close to the speaker. “You okay, honey?” 

You cough to clear your throat. “Yeah,” you say weakly and they both chuckle. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow night,” Rio says. “Wear something pretty for us.” And the call disconnects. 

You laugh in disbelief. Fuck. 

[onlygarden]

[quietly, baby] - yang jungwon

genre: smut

description: when you bring jungwon into the fitting room as you try on the lingerie he chose for you, he shows his appreciation through more than just words. jungwon x female reader, unprotected sex, public sex (but it's in a fitting room), dom jungwon, oral sex (male receiving), jungwon just can't wait

a/n: i've had this idea for a while and it's FINALLY come to fruition. i hope you all enjoy it just as much as i did while writing it (and imagining it lmao). at first, i planned to only do oral sex but i just couldn't resist adding more hehe. again, i hope this is an enjoyable read !!!

the delicate sound of the last of your clothing falling into a heap on the floor of the fitting room nearly escapes jungwon’s ears. every fragment of his focus was captivated by the event being painted before him. from his position, settled upon the small bench of the modestly confined space, it seemed as though he only just began to relax. the sight of you — bearing nothing aside from your undergarments, slipping sinfully into the black silk he chose for you — acted as his captor. any remnants of relaxation sailed helplessly away from his body; a certain tension now resides in each of his muscles, igniting his body with a need which can only be met by you. 

“how does this look, baby? do you like it?” you ask casually, a hopeful smile decorating your face. 

the question, seemingly simple enough, lingers in jungwon’s mind for a moment. he swallows, a desperate attempt to soothe the sudden spell of dryness in his throat. goodness, of course he likes it. no composition of words in all of existence can ever truly describe just how much he ‘likes’ it.  

he exhales softly, hoping to unwind his taut muscles even a fraction. “baby… you look fucking hot,” he tells you, freely betraying the indecency of his thoughts. 

“can i touch you?” he immediately follows up, hardly giving you enough time to react to the boldness of his first statement.   

an almost inaudible gasp drifts from your lips, and a pang of insistent arousal runs through your body from the sight of his desperation and shamelessness alone. 

much too impatient for a blatant answer, jungwon stands up, breaching the hardly acknowledgeable distance between the two of you. his fingers travel wispily along the curve of your waist, and settle in a hard, possessive grip on your hips. he pulls your body towards his, his hands now roaming the silk of your lingerie slip in a feverish manner.

“just remember baby… we’re in public,” you remind him, a breathless attempt to reign in his barely-contained desire. 

that’s right — public. in jungwon’s erotically corrupted mind, the two of you were concealed enough. surely, no one would happen to overhear if he decided to cage you against the wall and drive himself deep inside of you with feral intensity. surely, the both of you can maintain enough control to hold in any moans, gasps, or grunts. more importantly, however, jungwon didn’t even care. 

he leans down to kiss you without a moment of hesitation, his lips melding and dancing with yours in a flurry of silkiness and roughness. as you moan softly in response to the feeling of his lips and his body against yours, he walks you backwards until he’s pressing you against the wall. he’s surely got you now.

all of your adamant concerns with the risk of nearby shoppers or staff hearing the two of you seemed so trivial now — the way jungwon’s hands slid down your body to grope the soft flesh of your ass snatched any importance away from anything else. in this moment, all your mind could helplessly muster was a need for the delicious stretch that only jungwon could provide you with. you wanted to give your body to him in any manner you could to please him, too. 

“fuck, baby… you’re making me so hard,” he says, his lips still brushing against yours as he speaks. 

god, his hard cock always felt so divine when his body was pressed up against yours. the sensation alone is more than enough to ignite your body with an undeniable impulse to urge streams of cum from him.

you wordlessly coerce him into changing positions with you, his body now pressed against the wall as your lips begin to place kisses down his neck. jungwon’s head tilts back in a subtle thud against the wall behind him as a quiet, throaty moan drifts past his lusciously plush lips. his hands squeeze your ass, his body subconsciously giving into all impulses and doing little to hide the desperate ache in his cock.  

your hands move to his pants, settling upon his belt and unbuckling it with haste. your eyes were hungrily fixed on the way his cock strained impatiently against the fabric. jungwon’s heavy eyes immediately widen as you fall to your knees in front of him, dragging his pants and boxers down in tandem. 

“baby, are you going to…?” his voice trails off in a sharp inhale as you wrap your hand around his cock and lick up his underside. 

“fuck, baby…” he breathes out quietly, a shudder running ruthlessly through his body. 

you lean up just enough to spit on his cock, beginning to stroke him languidly with the lubrication. as you envelop him in your mouth, jungwon’s hands rest tightly in your hair, his cock throbbing so delectably in the back of your throat as it constricts around him. 

“baby, oh god, so fucking good…” he moans softly, his hips thrusting subtly into your mouth. 

you begin to bob along his length, moving up and down so wickedly, your hand twisting around him in a dizzying combination. 

a low, narrowly restrained moan escapes his parted lips, his eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted in the heavenly pleasure your mouth is providing him with.

his chest heaves gently, his fingers massage your scalp eagerly, and his body can no longer brawl with the compulsion to thrust into your mouth once more. 

“baby… just like that,” he manages, his voice helplessly strained with pleasure. 

as your movements gain speed, and your free hand wanders up to fondle his balls, jungwon’s hips jerk forward in an irresistible itch for more. his cock throbs fervently against the wet silkiness of your tongue, and his stomach begins to ripple delicately as shivers of pleasure force through his body. 

“yes, oh god, yes…” he utters in a breathy, strangled moan. in hesitant defiance of the unspeakable bliss rising within him, he pulls your mouth from his length. jungwon would much prefer to plunge himself uninhibitedly within the silky, glossy, indescribably wet palace of your pussy. 

“stand up, baby. i wanna destroy your tight little pussy,” he throws at you. 

the raspy desperation and authority in his voice commands your body to oblige, and you rise to your feet. he pushes you toward the wall, pulling your hips back towards him just enough to allow him to enter you. he pulls your panties down with the same intentions — and the same haste — and he slides his hand under the silky fabric of your slip, effectively unveiling your glistening pussy. 

jungwon’s eyes darken to an intense shade at the sight of your pussy, soaking wet, begging to be stretched and obliterated. “god, baby… you’re so fucking wet,” he says lowly, his hand already wrapped around his shaft, sliding his cockhead teasingly between your folds. 

as you shiver pitifully at such a modest sensation, jungwon forces himself into you. he sinks rapidly into the slick, velvety confines and his cock demands you open as he buries himself to the hilt.

“mmm… fuck, baby. gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t see straight,” he mutters, his words laced with blinding pleasure. as his cock begins to pound you tenderly, assessing just how pronounced the sounds of your gasps and your pussy would be, his hand travels fiercely along the silk decorating your back, eventually settling in yet another harsh grip on your hip. 

a prominent smack echoes through the tight walls of the fitting room as jungwon’s hand meets the flesh of your ass. as rapidly as the sound reaches your ears, the pace of jungwon’s thrusts quicken with drastic measure, and he absolutely succumbs to the desire to pummel you into a daze. 

jungwon’s thrusts are erratic, his cock plowing in and out of you wildly, leaving your body feeble, staggered, and as good as helpless.

you try, god, you try to keep your moans breathy and suppressed, but the way jungwon’s cock mishandled and tortured your insides was much too sweet to rein in. your fervent, hardly controlled, and stuttered moans and whimpers chime lewdly within the confined space, resonating deeply in jungwon’s pistoning cock. he reluctantly stifles the sounds of your moans with his hand, hating to mute such an enthralling reaction to the way his cock tore through you.

“mmm, baby… you like that?” he asks crudely, knowing the answer all too familiarly.

the indescribable drag of his length along your walls, the utterly enticing sound of his muffled grunts and quiet whines, the way his fingers dig into your hips in an urgent declaration of ownership — it all sends each of your senses and nerves spiraling defenselessly into an electrifying pool of delight beyond description. 

as jungwon frantically observes the evidence of your orgasm — your softened cries vibrating against his hand, your body shuddering under the intensity of the pleasure, your pussy convulsing and spasming around him — his cock begins to pulse within you. 

“oh god, gonna fill you up so good- fuck, fuck, fuck!”

he spills freely inside you, streams of his cum flooding your pussy abundantly, his cock buried as deep as your battered pussy would allow. a gentle shudder travels through him from the magnitude of the pleasure you so willingly provided, and he loosens his rigid grasp on your hips. 

“you think anyone heard?” he asks playfully, his deep, short breaths tangling with your own.

a gentle laugh escapes him as you immediately nod, and he begins to withdraw his cock from you, thoroughly enjoying the squelches he receives in return.

neither of you are quite ready to return to the store, reluctant to face the impending shame.

but in truth — jungwon doesn’t really care.

[chiaraanatra]

Lavender Girl

Summary: JJ was never one to believe in fate but one chance encounter may have him changing his mind. (Or the one where JJ helps Kook!reader through a panic attack and neither one of them can get the other off their mind.)

Warnings: vague descriptions of a panic attack, reader is an anxious wreck, reader tends to bite the skin on her fingers when anxious (don't mind me and my self-inserts), swearing feelings of distrust on JJ's part, nick-/pet names (pretty girl, lavender girl). one use of Y/N.

WC: 2.1k

AN: I'm not sure what this is or where its going! If anyone has any ideas/would like a part two let me know! I hope you like!

Song: Loosely based on Lavender Girl by Caamp

《 m.list || ao3 》

JJ POV

Why do I do this to myself?

Are pity tips from old ladies worth it?

This stupid getup is bad enough, let alone having to wait hand & foot on these fucking Kooks.

Do these people have nothing better to do on a Thursday morning than sit around bitching and drinking mimosas?

JJ made my way back inside, empty tray under his arm. Thank god it was nice out. It meant that the main bar inside the club was completely empty, giving him a minute of peace away from out-of-touch members of 'high society'.

Or so he thought…

When he turned the corner, he was met with soft sobs and lavender fabric pooled delicately on the floor under the bar. "Um… You okay…?" He didn't want to be rude, but heavy emotions weren't exactly his specialty, and he didn't have much experience with girls crying on the floor. At least not like this...

“Oh God, I'm so sorry…" you mumbled.

You looked up at him with teary eyes and in that moment, JJ was sure he had never been met with a more beautiful sight. Even glossed with tears, JJ was positive he had never looked into eyes as clear as yours. He watched as you scrambled to wipe away the tears that were still spilling over and mask the sounds of sniffling.

"Hey, hey, hey, you're okay." JJ set down the tray and crouched to be at eye level with you. "Wha's gotcha so upset? Far too pretty to be crying like that…" His last statement was barely above a whisper, brought into existence before JJ even knew he was saying it.

You glanced away, biting the skin of your thumb, "It’s all too much, it's just… I-I just couldn't…" You were trembling, shaking like a leaf. JJ knew if you kept this up you would probably pass out from lack of oxygen and/or gnaw straight through your finger.

"Hey, look at me." He reached out, gently taking your hand away from your mouth and bringing your attention to him. "Deep breaths." For a moment JJ thought he may be overstepping, but something in him had switched to autopilot, set on helping you, comforting you. "Breathe with me. In." He paused to take a deep breath, "And out." He slowly blew the air out of his lungs before repeating the process and the mantra. "In… and out…"

He watched as your trembling slowed and your body seemed to relax at his words. "There she is." He gave you a smile and you reciprocated with a small one of your own, "See? Knew you were far too pretty to be cryin’ like that," JJ helped you to stand. He thought you were about to say something before his name caught his attention.

"JJ, what the fuck are you doing man?" JJ looked behind him to see Ben peek his head out from the hallway. "If Mr. Burton sees you fucking around again, he’s gonna cut your ass."

"Shit…" his attention was brought back to you. "Sorry pretty girl, I gotta go." he grabbed his tray before giving you one last glance. "It’ll be okay. Don't let anyone make you believe otherwise. That includes yourself!"

And with that he was gone, leaving you with puffy eyes and a soft smile. JJ didn't know that he also left you wondering why anyone would be so sweet to you and that soon you would be clamoring to know more about the dirty blonde that went by JJ.

After his shift, JJ went straight to the Chateau, where he now found himself hanging off one of the chairs on the porch and regretting just about every word he had said in the last 15 minutes. He didn’t know how you got brought up and he certainly as hell didn’t know why, considering the two of you had barely a 10-minute interaction and you only said 5 words to him.

Regardless of circumstances, he was now getting berated with questions from two of his best friends, fearing it would only get worse when Kie and Sarah made their way back out onto the porch.

"Shit man you should have at least asked for her name!" John B exclaimed almost tipping over the beer bottle that was haphazardly perched on the arm of his chair.

JJ rolled his eyes, "I wasn't exactly thinking about that!"

"Yeah, I can only imagine what you were thinking about." Pope chuckled to himself. "Speaking of, what did she look like?"

JJ didn't want to tell his friends that you were the most gorgeous human he had ever seen "I don't know man, she looked like every other Kook princess running around." JJ could only shake his head at how unconvincing his voice sounded.

"Bullshit!" John B laughed at his best friend's failed attempts to mask his budding feelings.

"What are you halfwits arguing about?" The three boys looked up to find Kie and Sarah stepping out of the Chateau. Sarah made herself comfortable on John B's lap while Kie sat on the couch next to Pope.

"JJ's in love."

"Wha- fuck you, Pope!"

"With a mystery Kook," John B added.

"Oooo! Tell me more!" Sarah loved gossip and loved the idea of JJ showing interest in a girl that went beyond the realm of a one-night stand.

JJ stood from his seat, "I'm just gonna go walk into the ocean while y'all have fun."

"Oh, sit down," John B waved his hand and JJ returned to his seat. "We're just fucking around, JJ."

"So how did we meet this mysterious Kook Princess?" Kie leaned in, her elbows on her knees.

"Don't matter. For all I know, she's some rich bitch Touron and I'll never see her again."

With that, the conversation fell to other topics, but JJ's thoughts were still on you. Your soft smile. Your puffy eyes. Your lavender dress. He would never admit it, but he was hoping that he was wrong and that he would be lucky enough to see you again.

It had been a week since JJ’s interaction with you and with no signs of you at the club, he feared that he was right. You were gone and he was left with only the memory of your lavender dress and beautiful eyes.

Or so he thought…

Little did he know that you had been looking for him whenever you entered the country club. You just so happened to miss each other, just barely, every time.

He was walking back from the kitchen when he heard his name being called from down the hallway. “JJ?” The voice sounded small and apprehensive but familiar.

When he turned around, he was greeted by the same beauty from the week before, only you had shed your fancy lavender dress for something a bit more casual, shorts and a flowy white shirt.

When he didn’t respond she continued, "That's your name, right? JJ?"

"Uh yeah. That's me. Um, how can I help you?" A look of confusion danced across his face. He half expected you not to remember him and was waiting for you to ask him for a drink or complain about the hors d'oeuvres.

"I wanted to thank you for the other day…" When his confused look didn’t cease, you couldn't help but continue, "I was the girl in the dress, crying her eyes out on the floor under the bar…" Your hair twirled around your finger in what JJ’s eyes looked to be nervousness.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly and shake his head. Of course, he remembered you; how could he forget, you plagued almost every thought he had had in the last week. He was more taken aback by your kindness.

"I get like that sometimes…" you continued. "Sorta like a tidal wave, once it starts it's hard to stop… but you helped me calm down and you didn't even know me… don’t even know me. So, I-I just wanted to thank you…" your voice faded out as you looked down at your pristine, white Converse.

"No problem." JJ watched as you turned to walk away. Wishing he could bring himself to say something, anything that would make you stay for just a second longer. But JJ knew a girl like you would never go for a guy like him.

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, not noticing that you had turned to face him once more, "Would you like to hang out, sometime?"

Disbelief flashed over his features, "You wanna hang out with me?" This had to be some kind of trick, at any moment some Kook fucks would jump him for thinking he could so much as look at you.

"If not that's fine! It's probably super weird that I asked that! You don't even know me…"

JJ heard the increased anxiousness in your voice and noticed you starting to gnaw nervously at your fingers once again. "Hey, calm down." He made his way closer to you and gently pulled your hand away once more. "Deep breath for me." He watched as you did what you were told. He released your hand before speaking again, "You really want to hang out with me? You realize I'm not like your kook friends, right? I don't have a pretty Benz to drive you around in and I barely have 20 bucks to my name."

"I just moved here, and I don't really have any friends." A look of embarrassment washed over your face, "not that we have to be friends!" You paused, taking another deep breath. JJ could see you trying to fight off the waves of anxiety as they hit you, "It's just- you seem genuinely nice and that seems a bit hard to come by around here…"

JJ's tongue pressed against his cheek as he smiled. "Got your phone?"

You nodded, pulling the device out from the back pocket of your shorts. You unlocked it and handed it to the blonde where he proceeded to put his number in. You looked at the new contact name when he handed your phone back.

JJ Maybank 🌊

You couldn’t help but smile.

"I’m off all day tomorrow, maybe I could show you around the island or something?”

You couldn’t hide the excitement in your voice. “That would be great! Um, I should get going, but I’ll text you?”

“Sounds like a plan, lavender girl.” He gave you a parting smile and a wink before returning to work.

"No need to ask. He's a smooth operator!" Pope’s voice rang out as the three boys made their way down the dock to the HMS Pogue.

John B was quick to join the other man in song, as the three jumped on board, "Smooth operator!"

JJ made his way to the bow looking like he was about to jump into the murky water below, “That's it! I'm never telling you guys shit ever again!"

“Relax, J!” John B pulled his friend off the edge, “Like you didn't give me this much shit with Sarah."

"If not more," Pope laughed as he started the boat.

While that was definitely true the blonde rolled his eyes.

"So, what's the plan?" Pope continued as he lowered the anchor. "This doesn't feel like your usual catch-and-release."

“Man, I don’t know, she’s a fuckin’ Kook. I told her I could show her around the island since she just moved here but I’m not sure she’s gunnin’ to see how the other half lives.”

“Hey, you never know. She might surprise you,” John B had a look in his eyes that told the world that he was thinking about Sarah in that moment.

“Sounds like she has so far,” Pope couldn't help but take a couple more jabs at his friend's expense, never having seen the blonde like this before.

With that, JJ’s mind ran through all the possible things the two of you could do tomorrow. Only to be interrupted by the ping of his phone.

*PING*

Unknown Number - Hey it’s Y/N.

*PING*

Unknown Number - Lavender girl…

JJ felt his heart skip a beat. Part of him didn’t think you would actually contact him.

*PING*

Unknown Number – Are you still free tomorrow?

Contacting him was one thing but actually wanting to hang out with him? He quickly saved your contact in his phone, the nickname he gave you seemed appropriate. He ignored the small flips in his stomach brought on by the thought of you.

*PING*

Lavender Girl - If you still want to hang out, that is.

JJ couldn’t help but smirk and shake his head at your nervousness, not noticing Pope glancing at the digital exchange.

“She uses commas when she texts? Girl after my own heart.”

JJ pushed the other boy, “Fuck off, Pope!”

Do we like? Do we want a part 2? If the answer is yes, do we have suggestions/ideas for part 2? If the answer is also yes please share!

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

OBX Taglist: @daisydark @Ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @lillyxlillian @jjsfavgirl

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Let's call it Fate | Part 11

(A/N) Couldn't leave it with just angst in this chapter. Ugh, I just love their relationship.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: google translate translations, abusive parents (especially mother), arranged marriage, age gap, bullying, talk of grandparents and death of a grandparent, mistreatment of Ghouls, threats, angst, fluff, kissis

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

With Primo still holding your hand - he had by then sunken down on the chair Copia had prepared for you - you glanced into the office and watched as Copia greeted your parents and asked them to sit down on the other side of his desk. They did and you couldn’t help but wince when you saw your mother’s attire - as if she was meeting the pope.

“So, Cardinal Copia, I hope you don’t mind us going straight to the point, why did you summon us?”

Your father’s voice was warm and tinged with a hint of confusion and concern. Your mother’s on the other hand was as cold and sharp as always.

“Surely it’s because our daughter is failing all of her classes, is it not? Can’t even get that right, that little-”

Copia cut her off with a raised hand as you felt Primo’s eyes bore into your back. And you knew what you would find in them if you decided to turn and look, but you couldn’t take the pity that would surely fill them. Not in that moment.

“No, that is not the reason. In fact, your daughter is one of our best pupils. She excels even in subjects she struggles in and is beloved here in the Ministry.”

You wished you could’ve seen your parents’ faces at that moment. And if you did, you would have noticed that while your mother seemed genuinely surprised, your father looked proud.

“Well, why have you summoned us then?”

“Because of the arrangement you have with the Warren family. I assume you had hoped no one would find out about the fact that you practically sold your daughter because you ran out of money. Now, I usually wouldn’t interfere with the private lives of the students, but nothing about this situation is usual and I have come to care a great deal about your daughter.”

His eyes flickered to yours for but a split second.

“So, the reason I summoned you here is because I want to ask you to call off the arrangement.”

Silence hung in the air as your parents slowly took in what had just been said and what felt like hours, were only seconds before your mother started cackling.

“With all due respect, Cardinal-” the title sounded sarcastic coming from her lips. “there is no way we would break that deal off, just because you asked for it. Do you even know who we-”

This time it was your father who silenced her as she turned to look at him. From where you were standing, you could see the shock and rage in her eyes.

“You…said that you care about our daughter. In what way?”

Once again Copia’s eyes flickered to yours, but this time, they lingered, asking a silent question. Should he tell them? You hesitated, unsure how they would take it, or if they would even care. But in the end, you nodded, and Copia’s eyes returned to your parents, flickering from your father to your mother and back again.

“I’m in love with your daughter.”

He didn’t elaborate, knowing that his words would have to sink in for a moment. And they did. For what felt like hours, silence filled the room. The air felt thick and your breaths got caught in your throat multiple times as you waited for your parent’s reaction.

“You’re not serious.”

Copia turned and looked at your mother, a deep frown on his face.

“I can assure you I am.”

Then your father spoke up.

“With all due respect, Cardinal, I am not sure I feel comfortable with your statement. You are much older than her and are currently in a position of authority. I don’t want to accuse you of anything, but-”

“Then don’t.”

You had let go of Primo’s hand and stepped out of your hiding place. Everyone looked at you, as you walked to Copia’s side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He immediately covered it with his, smiling up at you.

“I know neither of you could in any way shape or form understand that anyone could love me for me, after all not even you can do that.”

You glared at your parents, eyes lingering on your mother, who just huffed and turned her face away, looking at the wallpaper to her right.

“But he does. And…and I love him…so very much.”

While finishing your sentence, your eyes found Copia’s, relief flowing through you when you found them already on you, determination and adoration reflected in them. Then your eyes flickered to your father.

“He is kind and gentle. He protects me, while all Noah has done so far is threaten and hurt me.”

As soon as you mentioned Noah, your father averted his eyes, staring at the edge of the table instead of at you. And something about that broke your heart.

“I…”, you took a deep breath, as your hands began to tremble from both anger and sadness. “I don’t know what I have done to you both, for you to feel so indifferent toward me, to hate me the way you do. To not care about me and only use me, but I will not give up on this…on him.”

Tears gathered in your eyes as they flickered from your, by now enraged mother, to your ashamed-looking father. You gathered that there was nothing you could say, that would convince your mom to take action, but your father…

“Dad?”

His eyes returned to you, sadness reflected in them.

“Okay, that’s enough. You-” Your mother jumped up and pointed at you. “-are coming home with us right now. Sending you here was a mistake.”

She turned around and stalked toward the door, turning back to face you when she realized that neither of you were moving. Just as she was about to yell something, your father rose to his feet but didn’t move. Instead, he looked you in the eyes, conviction in his.

“We will talk to them. The Warrens. And we will cancel the contract.”

A relieved gasp escaped you as your legs almost gave up from underneath you. Catching on in time, Copia rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you upright while he carefully guided you to sit down in his chair. Then he turned to your father.

“I appreciate that.”

Copia nodded at your dad, a hand on your shoulder. Your father returned the nod and turned around, walking toward your baffled mother. But Copia called out his name, and he stopped, turning back to look at the Cardinal.

“I would like to talk to you in private if that’s okay?”

Your father nodded, waiting for Copia to lead the way to a private room, but before he did so, Copia turned to you, silently asking if it was also okay for you. You nodded with a smile and watched him lead your father out the door. Only then did you realize that your mother would stay with you, and silent dread began to fill you, but before the door closed, all of the Ghouls entered and stepped up to the desk, basically creating a barrier between the woman who birthed you and you.

A smile spread on your lips, as you watched the wall of black in front of you, knowing that they were here for you. And in that moment, the tears you had been holding back ever since your parents entered the room, welled up in your eyes as you quickly wiped at your eyes, not wanting to give your mother the satisfaction in case she could see you even a little bit. Even though the tears were out of relief and happiness, she would just see them as confirmation that you were weak. And now you knew that weak was the last thing you were.

After about ten minutes, the door opened again and Copia and your father stepped inside. Through the cracks in the Ghoul wall, you could see them shake hands before your father ushered your mother outside, Swiss and Dew following.

“Thank you everyone.”

The Ghouls nodded, sending you a few smiles before they grabbed Primo and left. Copia seemed confused when he saw his brother, but didn’t bring it up. Instead, he rushed to your side, especially when he saw the tears, that by then had started flowing down your cheeks, sinking to his knees in front of you.

“Are you okay, amore?”

You nodded, a smile on your face as you hugged him.

“I’m just relieved.”

Copia nodded, holding you tightly. And while you were content with just staying in his arms for the next few hours, curiosity was nagging at you and you slowly pulled back.

“What did you talk to my father about?”

He smiled as he got to his feet, helping you up as well, and leading you to the couch, where he pulled you down, into his lap. Bianca immediately scattered out from behind your hair and jumped onto the couch, making her way to the pillows, where she curled up. Both you and Copia watched with a smile before you turned back to look at each other.

“I just assured him that I have the means to take care of you, as well as of him and your mother. Financially that is. I also informed him, that my position within the Ministry allowed me to finalize divorces.”

Your eyes widened at the last piece of information.

“Do you think they will…?”

Copia shrugged, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I recommended it. I know it’s hard to believe after the way you have been treated your whole life, but your padre…he loves you. When you’re ready…maybe you can talk to him.”

You didn’t react, not sure what to think. Yes, your father had always been kind to you, or at least kinder than your mother. But he had also stayed silent while she abused you, didn’t interject when she insulted you, and just stood by when she sold you. Could someone like that really love you?

“Hey…come back to me.”

You looked up at Copia. There was a frown on his face, his brows pulled together in concern. But you just smiled.

“I’m here.”

That also made him smile as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, mumbling a quiet ‘bene’ against it. You stayed like that for a few more minutes, until the grandfather clock in the corner of the office chimed. Copia sighed, shifting underneath you.

“Time for breakfast, amore.”

His words registered, but the only one you cared about was the last one. Now that it was semi-official and you no longer had to worry about Noah or his family, it finally sunk in. You and Copia…were together. Before you could stop yourself, you spoke.

“Say that again.”

Copia frowned for a second.

“Time for breakfast?”

You chuckled but shook your head.

“The other part.”

His lips formed a silent ‘o’ as he realized what you were talking about, before he leaned down, ghosting his lips over yours.

“Amore.”

Your lips connected in a soft peck, and you couldn’t help but giggle when he pulled back.

“Again.”

“Amore.”

Another kiss, this one a little longer, a little more intense.

“Amore.”

He barely lifted his lips, before connecting them to yours again, moving them in tandem with yours. His tongue peeked out, swiping against your lower lip, and you were about to open your mouth when a sharp knock sounded from the door. You quickly pulled away from each other, both glancing toward the set of double doors.

“Who is it?”

There was silence for a second before you heard a familiar voice on the other side.

“Your fratello, fratello.”

Copia grumbled something under his breath before he gently set you down on the couch and got to his feet, crossing the room to open the door for Papa Terzo. During the few seconds, it took Copia to walk to the doors, you quickly rubbed a hand over your lips, trying to get rid of the paint that must’ve transferred there earlier. As soon as there was enough space for Papa Terzo to squeeze through, he made his way into the room, not noticing you immediately.

“Do you want to tell me why I just saw two of the most influential people walk out of here, looking less than happy?”

Terzo turned and glared at his brother, as Copia quickly shut the door and turned to look at the Papa. You watched as he hesitated for a second, unsure of what to say.

“Because Copia helped me.”

As soon as you spoke up, two pairs of eyes landed on you and you knew you had their full attention. Papa Terzo fully turned to face you, a confused frown on his face, while Copia joined you on the couch, before gesturing for Terzo to sit down.

“What do you mean?”

Copia quickly reached for your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“You don’t have to tell him, amore.”

You watched as Papa Terzo’s eyes widened at the nickname, a knowing smile forming on his lips, while Copia stayed oblivious to his brother’s realization.

“He will find out eventually, it’s okay.”

After taking a deep breath, you turned to the Papa, and started to explain.

“Those were my parents. They…they sold me into an arranged marriage with one of my peers. Copia, he…he found out and talked to them, asking them to cancel the arrangement, because…because…”

“Because you’re in love. Both of you.”

Copia’s head swiveled around to look at his brother, eyes wide and surprise clear on his face.

“How…?”

Papa Terzo chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, a genuine smile on his face.

“Oh fratello, you have been colpito by her since the very first day. The way you grew defensive whenever I tried to flirt with her and how you whined all day long, about how you missed her, last week. You’re easy to read, fratellino. Plus, you just called her amore.”

The last part seemed to genuinely surprise Copia, as he continued to stare at his brother, his eyes widening even further in realization. Then he started to quietly chuckle to himself, as his cheeks grew pink.

“I guess I’ll have to learn to be more discreet.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand, catching his attention again. He leaned in, still smiling, and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. Laughing, you pulled back and rubbed a hand over your forehead, trying to get rid of the paint you knew was there.

“Us both.”

The clearing of a throat caught your attention again and the two of you looked back toward Papa Terzo. He was still smiling, seeming genuinely happy that his brother was happy.

“Anyway, we should go get breakfast for now. However, we will be having a meeting about this with the rest of the leading members, si? Perhaps, we can take action against that kind of behavior.”

The last comment gave you hope. Even though your father said that he’d take care of the arrangement, you were still scared, because you knew the Warrens and they didn’t like it when they didn’t get what they were promised. But if the Papa and the clergy took action, then they wouldn’t have a choice.

A relieved sigh escaped you, as you watched Papa Terzo rise to his feet, Copia and you quickly following suit. Before he could take a step, you called out to the current Papa.

“Thank you, Papa. It…it means a lot.”

Papa Terzo looked back at you, a soft smile on his lips.

“Please, it’s Terzo for you. You’re family now.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Copia mirroring your expression before a relieved smile took over. And before you could respond, Terzo turned and walked toward the doors, turning around once he reached them.

“Are you coming?”

You glanced at Copia, only to find him already looking at you, and with a soft nod, the two of you joined Terzo, and made your way to breakfast.

Translations: amore...love padre...father bene...good fratello...brother colpito...smitten fratellino...little brother

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Ghost Masterlist

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Tags: @antoniamarie1989

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[hopes-peak-postal-company]

For Mod Hajime, i hope this doesnt sound weird but could you do a platonic fatherly yandere imagine post with Elias Bouchard? I like to imagine he fixates on a new Institute hire who doesnt know the fears are real and just decides "Its Child time. There is nothing I wont do to make my new child happy." But he also has to work around Jon and them getting in his way because they just dont GET that he's a Father now.

A FATHER'S LOVE!

"surely you'd choose your father over your friends, wouldn't you?"

summary. getting a job at a spooky academic institute offers toms of spooky outcomes. you just didn't expect to get a father figure and a overlyprotective friend group.

contents. platonic yandere! elias; elias is a wet cat grandpa; the archivist gang are slightly yandere; happens right after season 1

✦ It was difficult. Getting by in the big London city and rent to your flat was quite ridiculously high, even for usual london rent standard. But thankfully, a position in The Magnus Institute had opened and you managed to get the spot after wrangling out your best qualities to the HR like you're trading them.

✦ Now, you were aware of what you were getting into. I mean, an institute that's notorious for having many people going MIA or dying, but this was the only job that accepted you out of the millions you applied for and frankly, it pays better than most of them.

✦ So, you worked as the institute's librarian. It shocked you to know that they have their own personal library but at the same time, you kind of expected it. After all, it is an academic institute and there's bounds to be numerous books and soucres to cite for every statement given, regardless of how strange there are.

✦ You've met a couple on the job. Some were nice and often has small talks with you while some simply comes and goes, not even bothering to talk to you unless they're checking a book out. It was fine, of course, you can't help but feel disheartened. After all, all you do is stand by, organize the library and do nothing. It gets a bit lonely sometimes.

✦ And then, one day, a certain someone came to the library and it was no one other than big boss himself— Elias Bouchard. You never met the man before, only hearing him from Rosie and the others, but he is generally well-disliked by his own staff. You had nothing to complain about him and honestly, you find his company nice.

✦ He comes to the library whenever he has free time and then would talk to you. It wasn't just small talk, not just noise coming out of his mouth to fill in the silence, but he talked to you. He told you so many things— his opinions, his likes and dislikes —and even asked you about yours.

✦ Elias would listen intently, taking in every information about yourself in a manner so ... different from how he usually carried himself. Elias Bouchard was a prideful asshole and you knew that obviously well from just his body language, and yet when it comes to you, he is oddly soft. He reminds you almost like a dad for some reasons.

✦ And your relationship with your boss became like that. You didn't mind, you understand to some degree but even still you couldn't wrap your mind around why he chose specifically you. Maybe he didn't choose or maybe he did, but either way, this outcome was better than him hating you.

✦ But then, only a few months into your job, you suddenly got promoted to assistant archivist, joining the very few others in the archives in their day-to-day life.

✦ It was ... suffocating at first. The institute did suffer damage from the Prentiss Attack as you heard from the other employees and with the archives being the main target for the worms, it was not surprise that the Archivist and his team suffered greatly. Though injured, all of them still came back in one piece so that was a good thing.

✦ It took a while getting to know the others: Martin was the quickest to befriend and he'd bring you your favourite cup of tea whenever he can. Tim was the second, jokingly flirting with you at first but he was comfortable to be around and somehow both of your intensive knowledge on memes made the two of you friends. Sasha, on the other hand, took a bit more effort but in the end, she was just as fun and cheery as the other two outside work.

✦ Jon, on the other hand... He was wary, of course, a bit of an asshole too but you were determined to let his walls down, and so was the team. He gradually came to accept (aka get comfortable with) your existence and doesn't glare you like a cat you just rudely woke up.

✦ Elias... Elias isn't too pleased with this development though as you come find. He finds every excuse in the book to have you in office, stalling you just so he could spend more time with you. He had moved to the archives for one very specific reason and that was so he can watch you carefully.

✦ I mean, how couldn't he? You were so nice to him, oblivious to the concept of the entities and you didn't even care if he gets a bit 'spooky' (as Tim puts it) at times. In fact, he claimed you as his kid the moment you seem to play along with his 'little cryptid act'.

✦ But The Archival team... Oh, did they get on his nerves. But he couldn't do anything, no, he was sure you'll know and they'll tell you about what he truly is and he couldn't risk that. He couldn't lose you to them, so he'll have to just slightly abuse his power a bit. Just to have you be by his side a bit longer.

✦ Of course, Archivist and Co. can't stand by idly and watch him take their friend! And so, everytime Elias and one of them come to your desk at the same time, it's practically a tug of war for your affection and attention.

✦ It makes you laugh honestly, seeing them fight like this. Reminds you so much like a father trying to shoo away any his kid's admirers.... Only if you knew though, then you wouldn't be laughing.

notes. hi hii!!! tysm for requesting this!! i always wanted to write for tma but couldn't. ik this is a pretty old req (i think like .... from june i think?) and i wrote this months ago but forgot to finish

reqs are alwyas open!! and dont forget to reblog any of our works here on this blog, it help us a lot!!! ty again for requesting!

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

Helloo hope all is well! I was hoping to put in a request for a Xavier x Addams/reader and have it be like that once scene from Titanic where he draws her in the necklace doesn’t have a to be smut of course but still that longing of intimacy

Thank you for taking the time to read this 🙏

yes, i can definitely do that for you!

NOTHING

pairing: Xavier Thorpe X fem!Addams reader summary: Xavier paints you warnings: mentions of n00dity, mentions of sex note: the reader isn't actually specified as an addams. also he calls the reader sweetheart because i feel as though he's the type of guy to say that.

THANK YOU ALL FOR 600 FOLLOWERS, MEANS SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU ALL. 💋

you sat in Xavier's shed on a small couch you made him put in there for you, watching him as he stroked a canvas with his brush. the way his hand was flexing while moving the brus along the canvas sent you to somewhere you couldn't explain.

something about seeing him so focused on painting made you want something from him. something you didn't want to say out loud.

you were staring at what would be a painting and thought of what it would be like for him to paint you like that.

you started to imagine him focused on painting you instead of all the other things he's painted and immediately felt weak. but you shouldn't. You and Xavier weren't exactly dating, but you guys weren't just friends either. you two were in a confusion position in your relationship and you didn't want to wreck what you two have.

although you would never say it, you wished he would paint you.

after a while he finished his art and stood staring at it, still contemplating whether he liked it or not, you stood up from the small couch and stood next to him

"I love it" you told him

he looked down at you and smiled softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and side hugged you

"something about it doesn't seem...right" he confessed with a sigh

"I think it looks perfect" you said

he chuckled before placing a kiss on your head, gently stroking your hair.

"well then, if you like it I like it." he shrugged

it was quiet for a moment, standing next to each other comfortably

"it's getting late, we should probably head back"

---

you thought back to last night and got excited to watch him paint again

"you must get so bored just sitting there watching me paint almost ever day" Xavier stated, opening the door to his shed.

"I like it" you said with a small polite small

"do you want me to teach you to draw or something, get you more involved or something so your not just sitting there?" he asked

"well there is" you paused for a second "something"

"and what would that be" the corner of his lips raised to form a small smirk

"you could, well, you could-" you cut yourself off, too nervous to say it

"I could?"

"you could paint me?" it sounded more like a question than a statement

his face brightened up and the smile on his face grew wider

"you want me to draw you?" his eyebrows were raised, he seemed a bit taken back but his face said he loved the idea

"that's what I said, yes" you nodded, walking in the shed as he held the door for you

he closed the door after him and stood there looking at you with a smug smile on his face

"don't get me wrong, you look beautiful, but I don't want to paint you in your school uniform" he chuckled lightly

"I wasn't exactly planning on wearing this" you said, looking down at your uniform

"well what are you going to wear then?"

"nothing" you said quietly, shrugging.

Xavier gulped down a lump in his throat, he felt himself become hot and his hands went a bit clammy, he wondered if he had heard you right

"what do you mean nothing?"

you took your blazer off and placed it on the chair in the corner

"unless you would like me to wear something else" you sighed

"no, no you can wear nothing, I'm happ-fine with that, just take your clothes off. and I'll get ready" he turned around and begun digging through his supplies

you felt a bit nervous again, you wondered if he felt uncomfortable about this. but you were already half way through this.

Xavier had a small smirk on his face as he set his stuff up, knowing that right behind him, you were getting undressed.

"I'm ready" you said standing behind him, ready for him to start

he turned around and smiled when he saw you, you noticed that his jaw was flexing while he tried not to explore your bare body with his eyes

"do you want to sit on the couch, that would be more comfortable" he suggested, pointed to the couch behind you

you nodded before going back to sitting down

"try a more natural potion" he said looking at how you positioned yourself oddly

you moved yourself on the couch to a better spot but apparently that wasn't good enough because you walked up to you and moved you himself

"there, that's better" he stood straight and walked back to his canvas.

"so just stay there, try not to move a lot" he told you before picking up his paintbrush.

---

Xavier kept looking back at you every second. he told himself it was to help him with the painting but he already has the scene imprinted in his brain that he didn't need to look back at you anymore.

he was just taking his chance to admire you in such state, and he did so while biting his lip or licking his lips, thinking about touching you.

you two made small talk until he was almost done. he looked at the clock on the wall and noticed the time.

"it's basically done, I'll just finish the details tomorrow" he sighed and put down his paint brush, wiping his slightly sweaty hands on his pants.

"can I see it?" you said sitting up on the couch

"wait no, stay there" he said taking off his jumper and hung it on the back of the chair

"I still have something to do" he said.

you then grew confused about what he meant by that, he had said he was done for tonight and that he would finish later, what else would he need to do?

he walked closer to you on the couch and looked down and you with a smirk on his face. he placed a hand on the back of the couch and climbed on top of you, a knee placed between your thighs and the other on the other side.

"what do you need to do?" you said. you weren't clueless, but your mind was foggy and too up in the clouds for you to notice what was happening.

he licked his lips while staring down at you, moving his knee closer to your heat

"you"

the tone in his voice make you nervous and become flustered, you wanted to say something but you couldn't muster the words.

"did you seriously think you can lay there in front of me naked for almost two hours and I wouldn't do anything about it?" he chuckled lowly. his hot breath fanning against your blushing face

you stayed silent, staring up at him longingly, feeling a wet patch begin to form between your legs.

"god your in for a long night, sweetheart" he smirked at you.

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

hope that was good enough

[cultofdixon]

Good Ol’ Dixon Advice

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] | Carl Grimes [ROMANTIC] • He/Him Pronouns • Crushes are weird and Daryl may not have the golden standard advice. But he’ll do his best • ANGST/SFW • TW: PTSD / Nightmares / Scars / Messy Confessions / Self Harm Mentioned

Requested by: Anon

“Hey uh…dad? You’ve got a minute?”

Daryl looked up from the bike frame noticing his son standing at the garage door extremely anxious. He stopped what he was doing to give Y/N his attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Or I don’t know. I just. Uh….” Y/N tried his best to be blunt about it, but he doesn’t know how Daryl would react to such. So might as well just… “I’m gay”

The archer blankly stared at his kid watching his tense shoulders relax when he shrugged before turning back to the bike frame.

“So? Love who yea want”

“Oh. Okay cool, so how do I do it”

“Huh?” His full attention returned in a split second as Y/N brought himself more into the garage to avoid anyone listening in. Both being paranoid individuals about eavesdroppers even if most aren’t around. “What do you mean ‘how do I do it?’ There’s no handbook to being gay”

“No! I know…like that much. I’m talking—-talking to your crush. Shit like that”

“Language, bud” Daryl scowled, asking for a certain tool for Y/N to grab as he did. If he’s going to be there, he’s going to learn and help with building the bike. “I don’t know how to deal with that that well”

“Seriously? You and Carol aren’t something alre—-“

“Y/N!”

“What! She’s not here! Aaron and Eric aren’t here! NO ONES LISTENING”

“WHOLE TOWN MIGHT AS WELL IF YEA YELLING” Daryl snaps, ultimately regretting it when Y/N retracted as he takes a deep breath. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have yelled. But again, I ain’t the best with crushes either. Hell, I only talk to yea most”

“Clearly. But you do grunt for every other sentence” Y/N states listening to him grunt in response, only proving his point.

Daryl handed off the tool for Y/N to put back as it dawned on him. “Who do yea like?”

“Uhhhhh. Not important”

“Y/N, bud…if yea want advice. I might wanna know”

“Or you don’t gotta and still give me advice that you won’t take for yourself and your own crushes”

This kid’s obvious statements is gonna piss Daryl off soon.

“Imma start guessin’ if yea—-“

“Carl!” He snaps hoping to then drop it as he was starting to stress himself out thinking about it. “But it’s like…fuck I don’t know” he got up about to leave the garage but stopped at the exit/entrance.

“Seriously I may cuss a lot. Don’t mean you gotta” Daryl gets up from his seated position, tossing the rag that he wiped his hands with on the work bench watching Y/N tense at the thoughts he was getting. “What’s stopping yea from just saying how yea feel?”

“Don’t you like…gotta know first if they like or don’t like the same gender…”

“Mm. From what I learned growing up, people just take their chances and if they ain’t? You move on”

“There’s nothing to move onto”

“That…sounded bad. But if you have a crush on the kid, then why not take the risk?”

“Cuz there’s also the chance of this Enid girl”

“Have you heard of bisexuals?” Daryl questioning only to receive a glare from Y/N as he held his hands up defensively. “I’ve never seen this Enid girl anyway. Heard of her but not seen her”

“Yeah well she’s on Rick’s good side for the most part. The dude doesn’t know she climbs the walls…and that Carl follows her and I just. Stay in here”

His kid was jealous, he could sense that instantly. But again, he doesn’t know until he just says something.

“Either take the risk or be disappointed, bud” Daryl pats him on the back as Y/N gave him a saddened look.

“I’m scared though”

“It’ll be alright. Whatever happens. It’ll be alright, son”

The next day, Daryl went to talk about such with Rick without his kid knowing that he was doing so. Since to Y/N’s surprise, everyone knew about his crush on the Grimes kid…except the kid himself.

Rick stopped watching a certain someone from the window when he heard the front door open. “Who is it?”

“Were yea expecting someone other than me?” Daryl scoffs shutting the door behind him watching his friend move away from the window. “No seriously. Who were yea expecting?”

“Just doing my job. Keepin’ an eye on people” Rick brought himself into the kitchen to get a bottle ready for Judith as it was almost time for her to wake from her nap. “What’s up, Daryl?”

“It’s about our boys” He says in a calm manner when joining him in the kitchen, but even with the calmness it still lead to worry coming on Rick’s face.

“What happened to our sons? Did Carl fight that Ron kid? Or did Y/N try leavin’ again”

“No to both of those. But it’s mainly about Y/N’s feelings”

Rick froze a moment as he screwed on the bottle cap before letting the confusion continue on his expression.

“Gonna have to explain more”

“Everybody knows Y/N likes your son”

“Okay, who doesn’t like Carl? He’s a great kid”

I’m about to lose my shit Daryl squints trying to read the oblivious expression on his friend’s face. “Rick. Seriously?”

“Seriously what?”

Guess the Grimes have that in common, being fucking clueless to things like love. Daryl wasn’t going to have it and would have to bring this type of conversation up again.

But in the mean time, Y/N was slowly building up the courage to talk to Carl. He climbed over the wall to follow after him wherever he was going and it didn’t take long to find the young Grimes…and what he was doing.

The archer flinched from his spot by the window which was a habit of his, Rick did it for different intentions earlier. He mainly reacted to the front door shutting harshly, immediately noticing Y/N running into the house.

“Hey! What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing! The world is a terrible fucking shithole that I don’t want to be apart of” Y/N yells back only for Daryl to get annoyed and ignore the boundary his son has where if he was upset, then Daryl can’t just barge in on the matter he has to approach it gently. But given he almost broke the front door, he wasn’t having it.

“What happened? Seriously. You can’t just shut out and curse”

“Why can’t I just fucking internalize my feelings for a fucking night! I don’t want to talk about it” Y/N snaps about to shut the door to the basement apartment the two stayed in under the Grimes’s residence. But Daryl caught his foot in it.

“Nah. We’re either talking about it or I’m stickin’ with yea until you calm down”

“I’m not going to fucking hurt myself!”

“STOP CURSING” Daryl snaps. “And how do I know you won’t when that’s what yea used to do back in the prison after we found yea”

He didn’t know he knew. But honest? How can you hide something that serious in the apocalypse? Even the old world there would be an anxious aura whenever something as serious as that happened. Or at least Daryl isn’t blind to stuff like that.

“I’m…I’m not gonna do anything…I just wanna stop thinkin’ about it” Y/N frowns pressing his back against the wall and slumping to the floor. “I wish I didn’t see it”

Daryl frowns bringing himself to kneel to his level and not asking, but gave his kid a look to tell him at his own speed.

“Can we just…talk about it in the morning”

“As long as I know you’re not gonna do anythin’, bud.” Daryl sighs. “And that if anythin’ during the night yea come and get me”

“…Okay”

It didn’t take long for the anxiety to consume Daryl during the night. He already has issues sleeping and now this? He didn’t want anything to happen to his kid and given their conversation from the other day…it could only be revolved around that. Or something REALLY bad happened that has nothing to do with it.

But the next morning, without the usual having breakfast with the rest of their group. Y/N leaned up against the wall as Daryl stood in the kitchenette.

“Did yea sleep?”

“No…I should’ve just known” Y/N frowns bringing his attention to his feet. “Like. Why did I even bother trying to build up the courage to tell him if I was just gonna see what I saw”

“You told Carl?”

“No, but I saw him and Enid kiss”

“Oh…oh, I’m sorry kid” Daryl didn’t know what else to say as Y/N didn’t know what he wanted to hear frankly. “Somebody will come”

“Oh like that’s possible”

It is. Given Daryl and Aaron are recruiters and there are other fishes…in this apocalyptic sea. But this was recent and he wanted to feel his feelings in private.

Even if he doesn’t know the other side of the story.

________

The two hide within a tree trunk to avoid walkers and whoever else was outside the walls. Enid brought herself close as Carl tensed slightly when looking her in the eye to try and read what she was instigating.

Then when her lips pressed against his and the sound of shuffling happening, Carl pulled away giving her a confused look.

“Uh”

“Oh. Shit I overstepped”

“No—Well. Yes. Sorry I just…don’t like yea in that way”

“Oh okay…” Enid wasn’t entirely surprised, her being in a similar situation as another where you have to take the risk and either be disappointed never knowing or at least knowing feeling either way. “So…this is a bit awkward”

“Yeah. But like. I care about you and I don’t want this to like. Ruin the chance of being friends”

“It’ll be awkward yea. But no I agree.” Enid reassured him with a smile. “Just friends”

As they exited the tree once the coast was clear, the two started to head back toward the wall they scaled and Enid had to know.

“Who…do you like?”

“Do I have to like someone?”

“No”

“Well I do. I just had to make sure”

Enid rolls her eyes followed by a laugh as Carl drops down beside her. “Imma guess if you don’t say anything”

“I’m not gonna be surprised if you get it on the first guess”

“Oh, so it is Y/N? Cuz that’s who I was thinking of. Ron doesn’t seem like your type…whatever that is”

“Clearly Y/N”

“Right”

________

“Daryl, we need to talk”

The archer is always disturbed when working on his bike and there’s only two people he doesn’t care for the disruption, Rick ain’t one of them.

“I’m busy”

“It’s about our sons”

Daryl sets his tools down giving Rick his undivided attention, noticing the tense expression on his face which lead to his worry but he was better at masking it.

“What happened?”

“Carl just told me he likes your son”

Holy shit Daryl instantly stood to his feet when he heard such and thought how did Rick find this out or what more could’ve happened that didn’t involve either of them. “Okay?”

“Like. Fuck how do I go about this?!”

Oh. Great. “Rick, are you like. Upset by it or—-“

“NO! NO NO NO.” Rick scrambled a bit before taking a deep breath. “No. Just surprised is all. I don’t know what to do about the information I was given”

“Be happy for our kids? But…Uh. Wait. What did Carl tell yea exactly?”

“That he likes both males and femal—“

“About Y/N”

“That he likes Y/N a lot and that he’s been avoiding him. Asking me what he should do but I don’t know!”

Part of Daryl wanted to smack Rick given he has more parenting experience than the archer but he’s this clueless. But another part worried about his kid.

“You’ve seen Y/N today?”

“No, neither has Carl or frankly anybody”

Not like Y/N would go very far since when they first brought him in he was a bit skittish, sure. But as Daryl took him in and the group made him feel like he was a part of something…he never wanted to leave that. He simply has his moments he would rather be alone but he’ll always come back.

And he does.

Daryl waited by the gate for most of the day thinking about the route he’ll take to go find Y/N if he doesn’t come back soon. But when the gates were pushed open, letting said individual in as he was instantly met with a glare.

“Uh. I brought game?” Y/N tried to soften the tension looming as he held up a rabbit that he caught.

“You gotta go talk to Carl”

“Why?” Y/N scoffs carrying his rabbit toward their home as Daryl grabbed his shoulder carefully pulling them back. “What! Why do I have to?! His answer was loud and clear”

“His answer wasn’t loud and clear. You gotta trust me and go talk to Carl.”

“Okay…and what do I get if I do it?”

A boyfriend what fucking else do yea want?! Daryl thought as he knew where Y/N was about to go which made him a tad annoyed.

“You tell Carol.”

“Do I have to go fucking first?”

“No, and language” Y/N grins deviously before tossing the rabbit at him and making his way to the Grimes’ residence but up to where Carl’s room was.

The time from the gate to the door of Carl’s room, made him anxious. He didn’t want to talk about it with him. Didn’t want to be rejected face to face…but right before Y/N knocked on the door, he heard his name being called from the stairs…noticing Carl had gotten home right after he did.

“Oh uh. This is awkward”

“But good. I gotta talk to you”

Huh? Y/N brought himself close but enough for distance even if Carl did take a step forward to break it and some part of Y/N kept him cemented.

“You’ve been avoiding me…and it’s got me thinking about what happened recently with uh. Me and Enid”

“Oh I—“

“I knew someone had ran off in the distance. Too fast to be a Walker or at least we don’t know any variants that can run uh…Just. I knew you saw what you saw”

“Oh…and I’m guessing you’re confirming—-“

“No!…No. it’s not like that at all…I do like Enid. But it was never in that way” Carl started to become a bit bashful as the rise of a pink hue came to his cheeks. “Really never was”

Now Y/N was feeling a bit of the heat rise to his cheeks as he thought this was his window. It is! Just say—-

“I like you”

“I like you”

That left the two to laugh at the unison as Carl instantly brought Y/N into his embrace, feeling him tighten his grasp on the Grimes. The two held onto each other for a while…until the time felt right to take that next step. Even if for the time being it was a kiss on the cheek from Y/N to Carl because they might not know, but the two knew the dads looming on the first floor.

“You think he confessed”

“Yeah they are definitely sucking face right about now if they ain’t talkin’”

“WHAT”

“Calm your tits, Rick. They’re young love let them enjoy themselves…” Daryl starts as it started to get a bit too quiet. “BUT NOT TOO MUCH”

“FUCK OFF DAD” Y/N yells downstairs as that was their cue to leave the two alone for a bit.

Enjoy their happiness for themselves

[slavicbeastie]

Arcane season 2 trailer

Oh wow I'm so excited by this trailer. Spiking adrenaline...I'm scurrying up walls like spider on meth 🤪

Some thoughts:

- it seems to me that Mel is alive (Yay!). Maybe hurt. Ambessa doesn't sound angry enough for death. Also fuck you Ambessa with your "wrath must be met with wrath". What about Piltover's wrath to Undercity over decades and centuries, huh? But you're a war mongering tryant (and textbook narcissist), you wouldn't recognise concepts of justice and fairness it they slapped you in the face. She's on the bottom of my Arcane's characters' likeability list for sure. I don't care that she has got impressive physique. I hate that they gave her place in the game (yes she's even below Marcus and Finn. At least they have decency to be dead).

- Cait being all decisive and competent 😎 But if she's leading attack on Undercity, what are those Noxian soldiers about? Does she work together with Ambessa? *shudder* I like Cait but I kinda want her to fail in all three objectives. Sorry pretty officer, but I'm on side of Zaun's revolution and independence from Piltover's boot. And you sending in enforcers doesn't seem in support of that.

- Vi looks terrible in enforcer uniform. Terrible. And she continues her trend from the very beginning of the series of contradicting her own words to Jinx. How long that "Nothing ever going to change that." held up, huh? A few days? A month? Normally I would give benefit of the doubt due to deceptive trailer's editing, but as I said, it's hardly the first time. When it comes to Jinx, one must take her every statement with a pound of salt. Especially positive ones... I hope I am wrong, tho. Let me be wrong, trailer is lying, and after a breather and time to think, Vi is better than in S1 act three in relating to Jinx.

- Ooh chembarons fighting directly? Yay? Singed under enforcers' gunpoint! I know he's terrible mad scientist but someone save him. Jinx? Sevika? Victor??

- I'm surprised how happy I am to see Sevika again! I always strongly disliked her attitude to Jinx (she was kinda Silco's crew Mylo) so I didn't mind when Jinx hurt her, but I really love to see her back to full strength and fighting for Zaun. Also I am excited for Warwick?!

- Ekko is there. that's it

- and last but definitely not least - JINX! Most important in fact! Every bit of/about Jinx is absolutely BRILLIANT. *rolles around in utter joy* I'm so happy to see her again! 🥰 They already managed to exceed my expectations for her in season 2 in this very trailer. Can you imagine what it'll be to see all they did through nine eps 🤯

From the top - Is that great statue head of Jinx behind chembarons!!!! Is she now their symbol/role model or maybe even some kind of leader!? is that her in hooded cape? Like in that s2 poster? I would love her in cape! She deserves cool cape!

That mural?! THE JINX MURAL!!!! 😍 It's Arcane's rendition of Liberty Leading the People, painting about French revolution! *explodes into fireworks of happiness* Our girl is so legendary that not one but two great works of art are referenced through her🥰 She is revolutionary for Zaun! Or the very least literally symbol of revolution. People behind her have all blue coloured hair. Possibility of Inxs or just sign of people's alignment/allegiance to her?

Despite all the turmoil, planning and fighting my favourite girl still has time for her art installations. Of course she has! Standing there on the pillar with Silco's face saying sarcastic line. (edit: oops it's monkey actually)That's pure theatre. She should really try hand in writing a dramatic play. I think pitch black comedy would be best bet. I wonder if she'll found out that Vi already said her name right before, when she grassed on her to Council. She looks so fierce fighting. Go Jinx go!!!

That's all for now. If we don't get anything else until November I'll be fine. This is more than enough until then😌🤗💙💙

[a-kookie-with-my-tae]

TEASER

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Music Producer!Reader

Genre: Angst (bc I hate myself apparently), Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Reader is emotionally constipated, Koo just wants love, yelling, crying, why do I do this to myself, omg the tension between these two I can't even

A/N: This teaser seems super angsty but I promise the full fic is really fluffy, too! The reader just is really battling some trauma and inner demons and all the confliction that comes with it. I know this is pretty long for a tease, but I got a bit carried away writing, haha. I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

Masterlist

"Why do you always do that?" My hand freezes on the handle of the door, pausing my escape as his words resonate sounding as if he was speaking directly into my ear even though he was positioned on the other side of the room. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I state firmly, albeit shaky. I turn my head slightly to the side toward him, my eyes planted firmly forward. 

He scoffs. "Am I just crazy then?"

His voice cracks as it rises in pitch and volume, maddened at my anesthetized tone. I hear the sound of shuffling footsteps as he paces the length of the small studio we occupy. I almost smile at the habit, Jungkook always tends to pace when he's in his head.

"I mean, I can't be imagining things, right?" I hear him pause in place, assuming he's now facing me. "You have to feel it, too."

He says it almost as a question rather than a statement. I hang my head, eyes focusing on the light gray carpet as they start to well up. I take a deep, shaky breath as I try to gain my composure. I can never hold anything back with him, that's always been the problem. I thought I was as cold as ice, hard as stone. But near him I'm nothing but glass. He always seems to shatter my facade, pull out the emotions I locked away long ago. 

The urge to turn around and face him is near impossible to subdue, but I somehow managed to push the feelings down. I can't allow myself to feel for him. He's unreachable, even if he wasn't the most sought after man in the world. I can never compare to who he is. If I tried, I'd only fail. He's a shining light, a beam of beauty and I would only swallow him up in my darkness. I haven't allowed myself to love anyone in a long time. Loving him would only break me. 

My breathing stutters as I feel movement in the room. I don't even have to turn around to know that he is standing directly behind me. 

"You have too..." This time his voice is almost a whisper, his soft breath brushing the back of my neck. My hand falls from the door as they ball up in a fist, fingernails digging into the skin of my palms to hold back from reaching for him. The tears in my eyes start to fall as I fight the urge, my heart shattering in the process but I steel myself still.

I feel his hands hover over my arms, my body sensitive to his slightest movement. They shake as he tries to decide whether or not to touch me, knowing it's wanted but feeling it unwelcome in the current circumstances. I can feel the confliction in his mind. 

Just ignore him. He can never be yours, no matter what he says. Stick to your guns, Y/N. He's just another boy...

They sound like a lie, but the words still bring me reason, a new resolution, reminding me why I'm attempting to escape. The room feels heavy with tension as he waits for me to speak, our breathing the only sound.

But the silence is deafening.

My eyes dart back and forth as I try to put words together. A confession and a lie dueling for dominance in my head as my mouth stutters for a singular thought. 

I suck in a deep breath as his hand touches my fist, unraveling my fingers. 

"Turn around." Jungkook says softly, fingers intertwining with mine.

I turn my head to the side, still not able to make eye contact with him. I know as soon as I see his sparkly doe eyes filled with everything I'm terrified of... whatever resolution I have will shatter.

"Jungkook..." My voice cracks as my tears fall heavier. I clear my throat before straightening my spine and facing back toward the door, my eyes zeroing in on the handle. "Jungkook, let me go."

"Why?" His voice echoes through the studio as he raises his voice in exasperation. "Why can't you look at me?"

He grasps my hand harder as I try to pull away, tugging me toward him as my back hits the firmness of his torso. Even in my current state of mind, his touch still sends tingles throughout my whole body, melting me into him as my body betrays me. It brings me warmth in a way I've never known, and along with it the pain of knowing I can never allow myself to bask in it. 

"Because I'm not doing anything." The words don't even sound true to me, but I still try to fool myself into believing that I'm not lying through my teeth.

"You're lying!" He shouts. He pulls away from me, turning around. My body shrinks into itself at the loss of him, cold and numb. He laughs darkly.

I turn around, confused as to what could be bringing the laughter. I regret the decision immediately.

He's more disheveled than I've ever seen him before. I don't even have to see his face to know the agony that's in his eyes. His hands are buried in his hair, tugging it at the roots as if pulling it in all directions will somehow ease his frustration. 

He turns back around and his eyes lock with mine. My heart shatters at the state of him, cheeks red and tears streaming down his face. Whether they're from heartbreak or anger, I don't know. But, my resolution is slowly breaking away at the sight. Confusion, confliction, frustration, and pain all swim in those beautiful doe eyes and I hurt even more than I thought was possible seeing it. 

"You feel something, too! I know I'm not crazy. There's something here, I know it. But every time I get close, you run away..." His eyes bore into my very soul as he pauses, looking like a mad-man. The fact that I'm the cause if it makes me conflicted. On one hand I want to run and tug him into my embrace and tell him that it will all be okay. But on the other... I know it will only make it worse if I give in to that urge.

Slowly, he steps back toward me, reaching for my hands. This time I let him.

"Why do you always run away?" He whispers as he stares at our intertwined hands, a small crease forming as his brows furrow.

I look down at our hands, his fingers almost playing with my own. His are warm in mine. They feel as if they belong, sending warmth up my arms and to my chest. 

I take a deep breath before speaking. 

"You scare me, Jungkook." I admit, the whisper almost deafening.

There's a pause as he muddles over my words.

"Why?"

His hand reaches for my cheek when I don't respond, his fingers wrapping around my jaw and behind my ear. He gently turns my face up until I lock eyes with him, all the feelings that have been rushing through his mind can be seen clear as day in them.

"Why do I scare you?"

He pushes further, the crease in his forehead deepening. He steps even closer until our lips are mere inches apart, causing me to have to look upward to meet my eyes with his.

"What are you so scared of?" His voice raises as his lips curl.

"Because you're someone I can see myself falling in love with!"

My eyes stare at his chest, rising and falling with each jagged breath he takes. 

The silence seems to last forever before he's finally breaking it with a whisper.

"And what if I want you to?"

.

.

.

And I fall.

[scribbling-dragon]

Adaptive Nature

Chapter 17

Summary:

When they arrive back in Tumble Town, there is someone waiting for them. Pixl stands beside the stables, arms crossed and foot tapping against the ground as he watches them approach. He looks every bit the image of a disappointed parent watching a child return home after missing curfew.

“You were meant to return yesterday,” Pixl says, arms still folded across his chest. “I understood that you might have been delayed and remained elsewhere overnight, but I expected you back by midday today at the latest.”

“I understand,” Tango dismounts. “But we got caught up elsewhere-”

“In Chromia.” Pixl says. “I know.”

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(3,787 words)

reblogs would be super appreciated! i really like this chapter and am very proud of it, so i hope you enjoy it too!

(note: after the second line break the narration changes to second person, which i know can be a bit disorientating for people, so i just thought i’d put a warning here for that :])

When they arrive back in Tumble Town, there is someone waiting for them. Pixl stands beside the stables, arms crossed and foot tapping against the ground as he watches them approach. He looks every bit the image of a disappointed parent watching a child return home after missing curfew.

He cannot help but feel guilty despite the disappointed look being directed at Tango and not at him. The disappointment seems to flood the air, until he’s grinning guiltily at Pixl and hoping it doesn't put him in the danger zone.

“You were meant to return yesterday,” Pixl says, arms still folded across his chest. “I understood that you might have been delayed and remained elsewhere overnight, but I expected you back by midday today at the latest.”

“I understand,” Tango dismounts. “But we got caught up elsewhere-”

“In Chromia.” Pixl says. “I know.”

He pauses halfway through dismounting, looking up at Pixl and wondering whether cryptic statements are the suddenly new and popular thing of the day. If they are, he’s definitely missed the memo. Arrow snorts and shakes, dislodging him from his halfway dismounted position and setting him on the ground.

Tango frowns. “Scott spoke to you.” He doesn't sound pleased by that.

“Scott speaks to me most days.”

“We actually just got back from talking to your little buddy.” Tango says, still frowning. “He threatened us.”

“He threatens most people.” Pixl sighs as Tango continues to stare at him. “Look, I understand you don't like him, but he has information that is useful, even if I can't use it. And it also means he isn't hanging onto any centuries-old and priceless artefacts any more.”

“They were hardly priceless.” He feels so incredibly lost in this conversation right now. It’s like he’s just walked into a maze that only has dead ends and no map and no actual end. That would probably be less confusing than trying to follow the path of conversation.

He gives up, much to Arrow’s delight as he leads her back to her stable, and brushes her down as Pixl and Tango continue to have their indecipherable conversation. It seems to be going in one very large circle, starting with how Tango doesn't like Scott, moving around to what they were doing, then back to how much Tango dislikes Scott again.

By the time he emerges from Arrow’s stable, Alyssa has appeared and is giving Pixl and Tango an equally confused look.

“What are they talking about?” She asks.

“Nothing important, just ignore them.” He turns until Alyssa’s back is facing the two. “Did you need something?”

“Just checking that you got what we needed. You were gone for a little longer than expected.” She says. “We haven't got much longer left.”

“Huh?”

“We haven't got much longer left?” She repeats, confusion turning to concern, “It’s going to start getting colder soon, so we’ll need the new fabrics and cloths before that happens.”

“Oh, yes.” He blinks. “I spoke with someone there and we should be receiving a shipment within the next few days.”

“Perfect! Let’s just hope it gets here in time.”

“Sheriff!” He turns as Pixl calls for him, watching as they gesture for him to go over there, and excuses himself from Alyssa and goes to stand with Pixl and Tango. They both just stare at him as he walks over, which is a little unsettling until Tango grins at him. “We wanted to collect information, is there anywhere we can use to gather it all together?”

“My office is probably the best for that,” he answers, “there should be plenty of supplies in there for putting all the information together. I can probably dig out a corkboard and red string if you want that too.”

“I doubt we’ll be needing the red string, but the corkboard might be useful.”

--- --- ---

They end up using the red string. Pixl takes far too much joy in connecting all the pieces of paper together, each with a small detail written on it, joining them up into something that is only slightly understandable.

You can tell which notes have been written by Pixl and which have been written by Tango. The glitter of his gel pens makes it rather obvious, especially as he seems to be capable of continuously producing more pens from different pockets all over his outfit. Pixl doesn't seem to question it, only holding out a hand as Tango somehow manages to produce a completely normal ink pen for him to use. He sets it aside as a mystery he should not know the answer to.

“And what was it that Scott said?” Pixl asks, “Tell me the exact wording.”

“It was, uh,” he struggles to remember what Scott said, pushing it from his mind earlier as he tried not to think too hard about what had been said and how stressed it made him feel. “We needed to seek some kind of heart independently. And light was important? He got really weird afterwards and just left.”

Pixl nods and hums, writing something down on a scrap of paper before pinning it to the board and connecting it with a few other points. Tango nods along with Pixl as he does this, but in his eyes he can see that Tango is just as confused as he is.

He had been able to keep up with it for the first few pieces of information and their connections to each other, but once Pixl started branching out into hyper-specific pieces of knowledge on the Rapture he tuned out slightly, and once he tuned back in there were pieces of paper on top of each other for lack of space and he was completely and utterly lost.

“And does that have any similarities to what was said in your dream?”

“We still don't know that wasn't just a really weird dream.”

“Yes we do,” Pixl sighs, “just tell me what got said.”

“The heart got mentioned again, it was, like, a forgotten heart? It was buried deep too, in the darkest depths.” He does his best to imitate the way it had been spoken, making both Pixl and Tango crack a grin at his shoddy impression.

“Does the Dragon really speak like that?” Tango asks.

“No.”

Pixl yawns then, as he’s pinning the next piece of paper to the board. It’s a loud, jaw-cracking yawn that immediately makes him and Tango yawn as well. They had eaten several hours ago now, and his only indicator of the time is that it is dark. He doesn't know the specifics, and if he thinks about it, he probably doesn't want to know how late it truly is.

Pixl steps back, allowing them to look at the board in its semi-complete glory. The red strings add a frenzied look to it, but it doesn't look like the ramblings of a mad person yet. Some of the paper spills off the side of the board where they had run out of space, pinned into the walls rather than the cork. He had stopped that before it could progress too far, citing that he did not want holes in the wood from all the pins. Pixl had, reluctantly, listened and started pinning pieces of paper on top of each other.

It was almost enough for him to let Pixl continue pinning information on the walls. Almost.

He stands, and both Tango and Pixl look at him in surprise. “I think it’s time we slept.” He announces, not even waiting for an answer before he turns for the door. “If you're not outside with me in a few seconds I'm locking you in the cell.”

Two steps of footsteps hurry after him, and he waits for them to be outside before locking the door behind him. It’s probably best that no one stumbles across their theory board yet; he wouldn't want to incite panic if it isn't necessary.

He can see the moon from out here, and it is certainly not beginning its ascension despite being low in the sky. He dreads to think of how tired he’s going to be tomorrow, but the exhaustion numbs most of his dread for that situation before he can think too heavily on it.

He leaves his front door unlocked behind him. Only because there’s no one that actually wants to break into his home, and also because breaking in through other means is probably easier than opening the door.

Tango follows him to his bedroom, but Pixl has disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving him blinking tiredly at the empty space where his friend is meant to be.

“Pix?” He calls, and Pixl’s head pokes around the corner to stare at him. “What…are you doing?”

“Sleeping.” Pixl stares back at him. “I doubt there would be space for more than two people in your room.”

“You can sleep on the floor.” He offers.

“I can sleep on the floor out here.” Pixl says. “I'm not going to interrupt you two anyway.” He waves a flippant hand between him and his doorway, through which Tango has disappeared. His face warms at Pixl’s words, though they don't feel hostile in any way. Still, it’s embarrassing if Pixl’s figured him out so easily.

He decides that he is far too tired to be thinking about things like that, turns around and shuts his bedroom door behind him. He’s glad in that moment that he no longer has shoes to take off, because he truly believes he would fall asleep halfway through removing them. Instead, he just pulls back the covers, ignoring Tango’s complaint, and curls up beside him.

He doesn't even remember falling asleep.

--- --- ---

You are standing in the rain. It is cold, and there is nothing to shield you from the elements lashing down on you. You are cold, and the ground beneath your feet is damp, already pooling into puddles that will soon turn into miniature lakes.

You are a child, and you are standing at your friend’s funeral.

There is a berth around you. You didn't know what the word berth meant before people started referring to the wide berth you were always given. You looked it up in the dictionary that sits on a shelf in the family living room, the dictionary that is far too heavy to lift on your own but you managed anyway because you wanted to know what the names people were calling you meant.

Your friend’s mother has stood across from you throughout the whole surface, shielded by the umbrella she is holding. No one had offered you an umbrella before you set out, despite it already raining when the door opened. No one even offered you a coat before you left the house.

You are cold, and you are stood at your friend’s- your best friend’s funeral, and his mother is staring at you like it is your fault he is dead.

The mutterings around you ask why you are there, though they never ask it as a question to you directly. They do not ask you, and you do not offer a response. If you are not spoken to, you do not speak in return. Speak only when spoken to, and the rest of the time everyone else can pretend you don't exist.

The murmurings of the crowd do not rise above a whisper but you hear them all anyway. You have always heard them, even when they duck closer to their neighbour and whisper directly in their ear. They are speaking about you. They are always speaking about you.

They stare at you while they speak, eyes colder than the rain washing over you. It is cold. You are stood at your best friend’s funeral. Stood at your only friend’s funeral as his mother begins to cry. She glares at you while she does it, even with tears swimming in her eyes her grief and hatred are not forgotten. Never forgotten.

Someone whispers the word curse, and you stiffen, though you do not respond. You speak only when spoken to. Their neighbours hush them, almost desperately, but you have already heard them.

Curse was the first word you looked for in the dictionary. You had struggled to get it down from the shelf then, teetering back and forth on a stool that could barely hold your weight. When you managed to snag the dictionary from the shelf it had creaked dangerously, and you practically threw yourself to the floor before it could collapse beneath your weight.

It didn't collapse. Even once you had found the word curse, had stood upon that stool again. It had not collapsed as you pushed the dictionary back onto the shelf. It would not collapse until your father sat on it one evening, and it simply collapsed beneath his weight. You would watch, looking on in mute horror, as a sharp piece of wood (too sharp to have come from the stool, surely) would slide through your father’s thigh like a warm knife would slide through butter. The image of that would remain imprinted upon the back of your eyelids for days to come. It would only be replaced when the next accident befell someone.

The doctors, once they arrived, would say that the injury was not fatal. It was painful, certainly, but it was not fatal. They did not look at you, but you felt the blame for it settle upon your shoulders anyway.

You never asked about the curse, and an answer was never given to you.

You knew what it was anyway. Your first discovery of the curse was when you were hiding. You had broken something else, and you did not want to watch how the next person would be injured by it. You were hiding, nestled deep within a bramble bush with the thorns clinging to your clothes and threatening to rip if you so much as moved an inch.

Your legs had been numb for several minutes by the time the conversation floated over to your ears. It is a distant aunt of yours, one who had been present when you were named. One that had watched as the events unfolded as the name was bestowed upon you.

One of your aunt’s friends, you are not sure which one it is as your aunt has many friends, a lot more than you do, asks her to go on. Your aunt makes friends with all the new arrivals to town. She makes a habit of warning people of your dangers. You're not certain what it is that you've done, but you discover what it is that day.

You are the third child of a small family. You are the youngest child of a family of ranchers. Your older siblings are a year apart from each other, while you are several years younger than both.

You were named on a sunny day. It was a beautiful day, apparently, the perfect kind of day for naming a child. It was a celebration, a celebration for your name. You're not sure why you would want to celebrate someone’s name being given. He has never seen someone be named, though you have heard of it happening. You know why you are not invited.

The day was perfect, on the day your name was chosen. It had been chosen for weeks before that, but it was not given until the day was right and the people were gathered there to celebrate you.

Your name was spoken twice.

Once, when your parents named you, announced you to the town under your new name rather than just ‘the new child’ or ‘the new baby’. He had a name, for a day. Your parents had been so proud, apparently. Positively beaming with pride, if you believed your aunt. You don't make a habit out of believing her. You don't like listening to her. She speaks in a harsh and cruel manner when she is around you, cold in a way she isn't with your older siblings.

Twice, when your grandmother, getting on in her years but nowhere near the age when people begin to worry. She had gone sort of funny, a moment later, pale and clammy as she stumbled to the side, the first syllable of your name dying on her tongue as she chokes.

A severe heart attack, the doctors had said afterwards. But everyone there knew what it meant, and the blame, the first of many, settled upon your shoulders before you could even speak.

Your name was not spoken afterwards, and you likely would have forgotten what your name even was if it wasn't the last words your mother had said to you.

She had screamed them, and the sound would haunt your mind for months, years to come. You can still hear it now, the way it had rung in your ears. It had been desperate, but the tone in which your name was cried spoke nothing but blame. That blame settled upon your shoulders, alongside the countless other burdens of blame that had been loaded onto your shoulders over the course of your short life.

You had nothing to your name other than the two horses at your side and the clothes on your back.

You didn't leave until the barn finished burning. You stood there until someone else emerged from the main town to investigate the source of smoke. You didn't leave until it became clear that they intended to destroy the problem at its very source.

You had left, throwing yourself upon a horse and kicking it into a gallop, not daring to look back. For a moment, you had considered not running, not escaping from the fate that he has inflicted on numerous others. If you looked back, you might be tempted to return and face the punishment they decided to lay upon your head.

You did not look back.

You took a new name, took the first boat you could, and you didn't look back.

You arrived on a new continent, one that felt far more friendly than home ever had as the people living there looked at you kindly rather than with hatred. You found a home there, one far more welcoming than the home you left.

Your name was unknown to the people, and they did not consider this odd. They simply nodded, smiled, and continued onwards as though a reluctance to surrender your name was understandable.

Your luck has not befallen those living on this continent yet, but you know it is only a matter of time.

--- --- ---

He opens his eyes, but he is not awake.

The Void has returned, all encompassing this time as it surrounds him. There is no ground beneath his feet, and there is no comforting purple shining at him from the depths of black and blue. Instead, there is only coldness, accompanied by a faint, thrumming sound.

It pulses in the back of his head, radiating through the entirety of his skull until his heart begins to beat in time with it.

He turns, and there is a mass of flesh on the floor. It is not flesh. Not normal flesh, at least. But it is alive, some kind of living matter that has curled in on itself. The smell of decay and rot and death hangs heavy in the air around him.

He hardly flinches at the smell. It is something that has followed in his wake for years, so he is hardly expected to flinch at something.

The sound continues to thrum in the back of his head, beating erratic and painful. The not-flesh convulses on the ground in front of him, pulsing and throbbing as the sound echoes. There are no walls, but the sound resonates anyway, bouncing off the walls of the endless Void.

The not-flesh writhes, and the smaller segments peel away from the main body. It makes a sickening, squelching sound as it moves, slithering over the ground. Viscera drips from it as it moves, and he takes a step back then.

His back hits something, but when he turns to look there is nothing but endless Void.

He turns back, and the not-flesh continues pulsing, the segments snaking their way towards him across the floor in spasming, painful movements. It is slow, something he can easily outrun, but he is pinned in place. Trapped in a corner within a place with no walls.

He cannot escape. Can only watch as the not-flesh begins to spasm more violently, the thrumming sound rising to a crescendo. It sounds like screaming and wailing and crying. It contains a multitude of voices, mixed so thoroughly that they no longer speak a language he understands. Maybe they never did.

The not-flesh does not communicate. It does not speak, but it does not need to.

He recognises it. He knows it. He has never seen it before, but he knows what it is. He knows what his purpose is in relation to it, and the not-flesh knows him. It knows him as an adversary, something that will seek to kill him.

It seeks to destroy him before he can even attempt to kill it. Before he can attempt to seek it.

Something grabs his shoulder, something burning and hot, and he lunges, twists, throws himself towards it.

The thing holds him back, speaking, voice hurried and rapid and low and spoken directly into his ear. He can feel breath brush over the sensitive skin there, and he shivers, shudders, in response, curling in on himself as bile rises in the back of his throat.

He blankets cling to him, and he clings to Tango, breathing in the smell of smoke and brimstone that has long-since stopped inciting fear on every breath and begun to remind him of home instead.

The not-flesh had not spoken, had not uttered a single thing. It only had one intention there, and it did not come to gloat. It had only come to kill him, smother him in his sleep before he could realise what had happened.

It would have worked. He realises, pressing his face deeper into the crook of Tango’s neck and willing himself not to cry, not to be sick, not to think at all on what just happened. The thrumming sound of the not-flesh, the squirming of it, lingers in the back of his mind, even as he tries to push all thought of it away.

Tango pulls him closer, doesn't pull away, doesn't demand answers. He doesn't ask anything, simply sits and holds and pulls him closer when he clings to him. He is warm, and it chases away the last sensations of that place.

Tango’s warmth dispels the last slithering sensations of the Corruption that lingers in his mind.

[girlwiththenegantattoo]

Hoover, Nobody Does It Like You

This idea was planted in my head awhile back after a conversation where we were throwing around hilarious ideas in regards to Jeb being a vacuum salesman. The seed began to sprout after a conversation of Hamish's new look (what I said looked like a 70s porn star.)

Thank you to @agirlinherhead for brainstorming with me and @aherdofbees for this absolutely AMAZING collaboration piece and throwing ideas around with me as well.

This is a 2 parter and the second part has more character/ story details with plenty of smut and fluff

One more side note: in the 70s apparently they had porn post card/playing cards so that's what this is loosely based off of

"I wouldn't say he's horrible to work with, but I wouldn't put him in the top ten either. Maybe it's good that he's a no show."

Mila rolled her eyes at, yet another statement only spoken to flaunt Gina's ever-expanding ego. An ego of which stemmed from the belief of being in such high demand.

Working in the erotic photography industry meant that you could do everything that’s done in a porn video, but there wasn’t a need for acting or reason for dialogues. Though pornos could be cheesy, Mila was sure there was a line production companies drew when it came to acting and she was also convinced that Gina's would greatly cross that it. After all, it has to be difficult for men to stay hard when their partner is flailing around and letting out the most unbelievable and unattractive moans.

With Tommy calling out (the man picked to join the two of them) it left Mila, Gina, and Howard. Originally, Howard planned for two men, one to accompany each woman and have the whole photoshoot wrapped up in under three hours. Mila couldn’t remember the first man’s name but had been confused as to why he didn’t show up. Tommy’s callout, on the other hand, came as no surprise. He was having a rough go with some ED issues. Or so Mila was told.

“Well honestly, I wasn’t much in the mood for a shoot as it was. Ill just make up the money on a different day”

Gina stood from her spot on the couch and began straightening her red silk robe. A robe she kept tied just above her navel and the front opened in the shape of a V, covering most of her breasts while still allowing some inner cleavage to be seen.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll do the same,” Mila replied as she followed suit and made her way towards her bedroom.

—--

The sound of a generic doorbell echoed from behind the solid wooden door. It was the same sound as every doorbell Jeb rang. Removing his finger he reminded himself that today is a brand new day. A day where the sun was shining and he got to wake up in his own bed. Another day that started with an early wake up to shave and shower, a day built by routine. Despite the positive outlook, it was also just another day spent staring in the mirror while trying to neatly part his wavy brown hair and fighting back tears as he brushed his teeth. There had been nothing glorious about choosing to become a vacuum salesman after Jeb got out of federal prison but the job somehow managed to pay the bills.

The distance sound of high heels clacking grew louder as they made their way to the door. When it slowly opened, any well practiced sales pitch Jeb prided himself in knowing, suddenly died in the back of his throat.

“Can I help you?”

“Hell...uh...hello. Would you be interested in a vacuum...I mean a demonstration of this vacuum.” That wasn’t at all how it was supposed to start. He forced a single laugh before continuing his butchered spiel. "It has so many great features and it works really well." Jeb hoped she hadn't caught the wince he made; however, she did. She also caught the moment his cheeks changed from their olive tone to a red blush that stretched across his face. Even the way his blue eyes darted everywhere in an attempt to keep them from landing on the exposed skin of her chest. Had Gina been standing a foot closer, the ridiculously under dressed woman would have even seen the sweat droplets forming at the top of Jeb’s hairline.

The silence between them was brief but the way Gina’s brown eyes slowly studied every inch of Jeb’s features had made time stand still. Never sparing a glance at the bulky bodied display Hoover; that of which looked like a child's toy next to Jeb’s 6 '4 frame, she finally spoke.

"Would you be willing to demonstrate while having your picture taken?” Jeb’s eyes flew to hers in a startled reaction.

"Pictures of me...vacuuming?"

A quick nod and an expectant look were all Gina offered for an answer, before speaking again. "If you're worried about your appearance you have absolutely nothing to worry about. It's just a little photo shoot. Plus, there’s money involved.”

Jeb stood there silently, running through made up scenarios and weighing his options. It couldn't be too bad, could it? If he don’t sell the vacuum, he’ll still make some money.

“O...uh okay."

Gina took a step to the side, allowing the door to open all the way. “Well come on in then,” she said gesturing behind her with a tilt of her head.

The vacuum clunked and clanked as Jeb fought with one hand to turn it around by its handle. His intention was to wheel it in. Why he hadn't just used two hands to lift and turn the vacuum was beyond her but as he finally stood up straight with a tight grip at the base of its handle assembly, Gina thought his act of trying to play it cool was more entertaining to watch.

—-

Jeb followed Gina past the small entryway to a large, open room sat tucked away near the back of the house. Its décor consisted of burnt orange walls with carpet to match and a huge sofa bed. "Just hangout here. They'll be right out." They? She turned to leave without further instructions and just like that, Jeb was left alone in a stranger’s room, wondering what the hell he was doing.

Feeling utterly out of place he began to look for a power outlet. There were only two that he spotted, one being quite literally across the room from the other. The distance from one outlet to the door was fairly long however, luckily for him and anyone that owned a Hoover, the vacuums come complete with extra long cords. A fact Jeb normally made sure to always touch on when doing his well rehearsed sales pitch. Normally as in when he's not having to speak to a woman with very little on.

"So, you're my new costar?" A woman asked from behind Jeb and just inside the doorway. This woman's voice was different from the one he heard earlier. It was softer, more welcoming. After plugging in the cord Jeb straightened up and went to turn around. "Costa-”

The sound of Jeb’s heels catching on the gray cord was muted but Mila was certain the thump of his ass harshly meeting the ground could be heard in the next room.

"Oh my god! Are you ok?!"

This all must be a dream. First the scantily robed woman at the door, hair as if she just left the beauty salon and now this woman. She stood mere feet away now, concern written all over her angelic face and a glint of something Jeb hadn't seen in quite some time, inside big green eyes. Her features aside, it was the fact that all she wore was a men's collared, long sleeved button up shirt with frilly white underwear that peeked out just below the hem, that caused Jeb’s jaw to drop. A noise akin to a click came from just over Mila’s shoulder. Another one quickly followed; this time it was accompanied by a flash.

"That's great! That's good, now let’s do it with a look of shit, she's gorgeous and coming towards me rather than I just saw a ghost hmm."

Jeb was now able to piece together the fact that there were three people in that room and yet he was still completely confused as to what that man was asking of him.

"Mila, I want you to go over and unbutton all but the top one, open his shirt a bit and stand back in front of him. After, we'll get a series with you straddling his hips."

If Jeb's brain worked properly, it would have sent a signal to all his limbs, telling his knees to bend and arms to push so he could stand upright. But, perhaps if it had told him to make the short trip to the door, his feet would have become a tangled mess, causing more embarrassment for him. Instead, Jeb's brain chose to play the lovely tone of white noise and give him the complete inability to think.

While his brain was still trying to catch up, delicate fingers worked the small black button with ease while Jeb suddenly got lost in green irises. He’d been so caught up in her eyes that he hadn’t registered the rise of Mila’s brows or the soft lift of the corner of her lips. An attempt at a mischievous look. A disappointed whimper threatened to leave Jeb at the loss of closeness when Mila stepped back but quickly disappeared along with the air in his lungs the second she removed her shirt. Her shapely breast, void of any type of material, sent Jeb into another mesmerizing trance.

“Yes, just like that. Put your hand on your hip Mila. Good. good, now flash him a shy smile. Better yet bite your lip.”

Sounds of clicks and flashes rang out like rapid fire as Jeb began to desperately search for a way to hide his erection.

“Look at this guy, he's a natural. Now that you got him excited, give me a surprised look that turns seductive. Yes, that's it! You see what he's working with and now you're so turned on.”

Mila was fairly impressed with Jeb’s prompt excitement. Usually, most would require several minutes before to stare at images or one of the model's naked forms while stroking themself earnestly to get hard. The part that irritated her the most was when they chose her to do so. Taking pictures while in the nude WITH someone was vastly different than just standing there while they stared and tried to get it up.

“Yes! That's perfect. Now. I want to get a few with you crawling towards him. After you settle in his lap, I want you to kiss him starting at his neck”

Instead of white noise, Jeb now heard the prominent beating of his heart in his ears. All he could do was watch her, transfixed to the spot in which he sat. Mila’s movements were made with fluent grace as a click followed each advancement she made. Reaching the middle of Jeb’s long, spread legs, Mila placed a knee on either side of his hips and straddled him.

"Are you ready?" She whispered seductively.

Mila spread her knees a little further allowing her to sit flush against his erection. Before her lips could touch the soft skin behind his ear the sounds of Jeb’s panicked moans abruptly halted all her movements.

"Oh god, oh god...I…shit." Jeb’s body suddenly curled inward. With his face turned away he tried to quell the pounding of his heart. He couldn't bring himself to look at Mila. Not now. Not after the single touch of her clothed core caused him to ruin his pants.

"Did he just-"

"Howard." Mila quickly interrupted as she gently placed her hand on Jeb's shoulder. "I'd like to take a break now." The photographer let out a huff before begrudgingly walking off, waiting until he was halfway across the hall to yell that she could take 30.

"Hey?" Though her voice was quiet, Jeb expected to find a look of disgust or even exasperation, but as his eyes met hers, he found neither. "You haven't done this before have you?" Mila's question was spoken kindly, her tone that of something asked with genuine curiosity. Jeb's answer was instantaneous and short, the pitch in how it was said causing Mila to hide the endearing smile that threatened to cover her lips.

"GOODNESS no!"

[shiroi---kumo]

@lunaferrous asked:

"Your Majesty." Upon noticing the young king standing off to the side, she couldn't help but wander over and see what was the matter. An event being hosted on such a grand scale with the orchestra in full swing, and the guest of honor was being shy? Maybe. Or maybe he had had one two many to drink and needed time to sober up. Either way, she greeted him as she would any other noble, a slight bow of the head with her hand over her chest. She even went to the trouble of fetching him a glass of ice water, on the off chance that he was actually sobering up. She doubted it, but it was an amusing thought nonetheless, smiling wryly to herself as she offered the glass to him. "You look troubled. I hope you haven't grown bored of us already. The night is still young."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He hasn't decided what is stranger, being called 'Your Majesty' or the way the mortals seem to bow their heads to him when they say it. She is so polite as she greets him and the sound of Cid's voice comes erupting into the back of his mind to remind him that this sort of thing is normal and the all encompassing urge to drop his horns to her in kind is something he needs to resist.

All his life he was trained to drop his head to his people. It was the Misterican way. It was how they operated. The people of the kingdom did not bow the royal family did. He was granted power by permission. He was gifted position by an Oath and to his people he would give his life in service to them. Misterica was gone but that did not mean the same of Wonderland. Wonderland, neigh, the universe were his people now - Mist and Soil born alike.

However, even if Cid's voice was erupting in the back of his mind trying to tell him that he didn't have to bow, still his horns dropped as his head tilted forward to her ever so slightly. It was a motion as fluid as breathing to him and he could not help but do so. She's brought him a glass of water and he can feel Revon practically eyeing the glass over his shoulder from the side to see if it's permissible for his charge to consume.

"Ah." It's more a sound that leaves him in a soft tone as his hand raises to take the crystal glass from her hand. "I thank you kindly."

Still her statement takes precedence and seems that even from behind the mask, she can see the thoughts brewing within his eyes. The thin metal that covers his face floods back and the newly crowned ruler of Wonderland gives her a smile, the best he can with all that's rolling around inside his mind.

He's not surprised. After all, he's been told all his life that he's never been any good at lying. Maybe this means he's finally starting to ditch the habit?

"No, it's nothing like that. I'm afraid I am merely lost in thought. Wonderland's society is vastly different from my own, and there are still intricates of each and every one of them I have yet to adjust to even after all these years. Still small things that are so strange to me. I'm afraid I just haven't adjusted yet to hearing Your Majesty. It - it still feels a bit like a dream.

Is that odd?"

[iloveanimalsmorethanhumans]

Modern day Monsters: V

The man sat quietly, perfectly still, waiting. The old wooden bench was rough under his bare legs. It was solid, and good.

His feet bare on dirty stone tile, cold and unyielding. He looked around the old bus station, using only his eyes, daring not move his head.

He knew they were near, hunting.

He heard the whisper of fabric nearby, barely an echo brought back to his straining ears. He held his breath. It was cold in the old bus station. His skin was cool, but not cool enough. He knew that. He had chosen his position carefully, relying on the electricity in the old fuses nearby and heat from floor vents to help his camouflage.

"Psst....I know you're there" a voice whispered, somewhere behind him. Dammit he couldn't see, but the statement itself told him the speaker hoped for movement.

He heard a sound above him. A slight rustle and scrape.

Someone was clever. Likely he was soon to be found by that one. He hadn't considered that approach.

He remained still, the little breath trapped in his lungs beginning to flutter nervously. "Steady" he thought, plenty of air left in these veins. He felt something hit his bare scalp, just a tickle, followed by slightly larger fragments.

Dust, rust and old paint. He was found. He knew it. He expected a triumphant whoop but there was nothing. Maybe?

"Hmph" a satisfied sound from above.

Then a quiet voice into a mic. "Got him. Third bench from the East wall."

The lights came up around him and he slowly exhaled, standing gracefully and brushing the top of his head with elegant fingers.

"Well done" he said quietly, looking up to see black boots dangling above his head. The soldier attached to them dropped down beside him, a few feet away.

"You're a clever bastard" the soldier said, brushing dust and old paint off his hands.

"Not clever enough" he said mildly.

Soldiers began standing from various places around the old building.

One walked in from a distant doorway and a voice called out across the expansive space "a bit left of center there Erichson." The soldier put his head down, a nervous hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Y'Sir" he mumbled.

The speaker approached rapidly.

"Damn fine job, soldier. 28 minutes on the nose. Quickest yet"

The soldier who had found him snapped a quick salute. "Sir" he stated quietly. A man of few words.

Jack liked him. He didn't like many people. Especially on first meeting.

"Where are you standing, Dr. Griffin? I'd like to shake your hand, not grab your dick!"

One of the soldiers barked a surprised laugh, several others smirked, the one who had found him, Ringer, his name patch read, remained impassive.

Jack put a hand out quickly, fingers jabbing the approaching man sharply in the ribs. "Right here." He said coolly. The old colonel jumped slightly.

Ringer's lips twitched at the corner., almost imperceptibly.

Jack decided he liked him very much, indeed.

Colonel Kemp grabbed the hand poking his ribs in a rough handshake.

"Thanks, again, Griffin for your help and participation." He said gruffly, his handshake applying more pressure than necessary. His dislike, obvious.

Griffin returned the pressure and leaned close. Whispering "I know you'd rather grab my dick. Sir." The last word an angry hiss. He released the man's hand as Kemp's jaw clenched and his neck reddened. No one heard the Dr but Ringer, and Kemp dared not respond for fear of having to explain what was said. He was furious. Dr Griffin turned. "I'll be going." He said briskly. "Need to get dressed. Fine work, Soldiers! Until next time"

And he snapped a salute none of them could see. He walked away slowly and purposefully so they could hear his feet on the tile.

He reached a small pile of clothes in the corridor Erichson had come in from. It wasn't a bad idea. Griffin thought, to look near where his clothes were left. He had done that once. Stood quietly against a wall of heated tile not far from his clothes in a gentlemen's club bathroom. Early on in the experiments with the special infrared technology the government was beginning to utilize and develop more.

The technology had come further since then. Thanks to his help.

Dr. Griffin was all for furthering technology, after all science was his life.

He despised the people in charge of it, and he and Kemp had been at odds since the beginning. The man talked too much.

He stepped back out into the bus station, dressed and visible again. His eyes found Ringer, who was already looking at him. He nodded, tipping his hat with a gloved hand. One of the soldiers nearby shifted nervously. Funny how they feared him more, clothed. It was disconcerting seeing the shell of clothing on what they knew to be an invisible frame.

He strolled towards the exit, Kemp's voice trailing him

"What could you see, Ringer?"

Erichson was standing on the outer fringes still, staring intently at the infrared glasses in his hand. They looked like regular glasses. Clear lenses in black frames. Worn in the dark though, and they'd show heat a heat signature on the lenses.

Jack put a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"It was a good thought, soldier" he said quietly.

The young man flinched, jolted from thought.

He nodded, crimping his lips at the corners in an awkward smile.

Jack stepped into the cool night air, filling his lungs in a deep sigh.

He'd go home, make his report, and think about Ringer. Clever, clever Ringer. He'd like to work with him a little more closely.

Whistling, he put his gloved hands in his pockets and began the long walk home.

-ADL

[jamiekb]

Listening to TMA for the first time (Part IX)

Part I II III IV V VI VII VIII

121-141

#121 Far Away: We really started off with a bang didn't we. I had honestly forgotten about this guy, but it'll be interesting to see him again (maybe, hopefully) or perhaps he really just came to give John a pep talk from avatar to avatar. And it's sweet that Georgie went to visit John, I really like her, I certainly hope nothing more happens to her please. Did she recognize Oliver as the End? Or why did she wanna catch up to him?

#122 Zombie: Funny statement to grab before John woke up. So Georgie is fine but she's gonna take a step back. What happened at the Institute, I'm sure nothing good with Lukas in charge but is Martin okay?? Where is Melanie? What happened that they had to get rid of stuff, did something attack? And I just thought how does it work for the main place for the Eye to be under supervision from some other Fear?

#123 Web Development: Good to know everything's gone to shit. I feel just as off-kilter as John must, like walking into the middle of the action and you're constantly trying to keep up, solid writing and directing on the team's part. So Melanie has basically the same attitude as Tim but more intense, Martin is isolating like John used to (or has been forced into it), Basira is still our solid rock and John is still trying to come into his own just in a slightly different way. I haven't mentioned it but that's really cemented by the fact that John has stopped saying his position and is now just The Archivist, then again he was changed. Regarding the statement it's kinda interesting, love how John (as the actual writter of the show) can make digital things sound spooky, I feel like many people struggle with that, it always seems a bit corny, but not for TMA.

#124 Left Hanging: Not much of an opinion on the story, I prefer the other stories for the Vast. But it is interesting that Martin is really going out of his way to avoid John, like I know he's following orders from Lukas and is probably very shaken from basically loosing John but it's still very weird. Can't wait for many more episodes of this before this dinamic changes, not.

#125 Civilian Casualties: Ok so now something is possesing John??? Is it Gertrude with her knowledge or just like the Archivist spirit? merging with him? Well in any case it seems that Melanie might be a bit more stable now, good when many Fears are waiting to attack them. And again John is a collection of different scars.

#126 Sculptor's Tool: I stand corrected apparently, that was a whole lot. Ok so now the statements are getting a bit more obvious with how they relate to what is going on or relevant for the Institute. So now Martin is an assistant for Lukas who is avatar of the Lonely. That's why he's keeping Martin away from everyone and especially John, though I'm guessing there's a second part to that in that John is the Archivist and that somehow interferes with whatever they are trying to stop. What are they trying to stop by the way? Another becoming for something else? Peter mentions the bigger picture, something other than the rituals, and that's what he needs Martin for, thus why he needs to gather more energy for the Fear. Still cryptic but I guess it all boils down to, it's gonna be a bad time for Martin. Wonder if its the Institute that's gained some sentience or just the Eye that's "listening" to the tapes and appearing the recorders. Wonder if John can listen to that tape or maybe have it just appear same as the devices, I'm guessing that would be a bit too simple.

#127 Remains to be Seen: I thought Jonah was a woman, nothing to it just a random thought. Anyway what will Elias tell Basira? I don't really know, maybe something about how Lukas is using Martin or how John is progressing. Melanie has mellowed out (haha). John is still a bit lost though.

#128 Heavy Goods: I almost feel bad for Breekon, it truly was lost. It seems to happen every once in a while, like when Michael became Helen. These things go againts their nature and thus are unmade in some way. Hope we get to "see" what Basira is up to, how she manages to wrangle a bit of logic from the nothing that are the Fears. And again more progression for John and his abilities, he's slowly coming into more power, wonder if he could rival Elias at some point. With some time he could do more about the knowing things and extracting stories from people/things. Already his questions are way more powerful and precise.

#129 Submerged: I'm gonna go with since John is much more elevated now that the Eye itself want to kinda help and is giving him those little pushes. You might not want the new abilities John but better to have them and know what they do than be caught unaware in the next situation. Also he sounds so awkward when he intercepted Martin, and poor Martin he just wants to keep John as safe as possible, cause the man just keeps getting beat up and has recently just died. I just hope you don't loose yourself Martin dear.

#130 Meat: Yeah no for this one I'm a bit lost. So something to do with a body is what John needs to get back? Like a corpse or like a person? If it's a person could it be Georgie? Cause if it's a corpse I really don't know who he could use, unless Jan Presntiss' ashes count. I do agree that the church can be fascinating, living a bit of that myself at the moment. Gertrude really was quite pragmatic, wonder what that means when John can't shake off the last of his humanity, nothing good for him I'm sure.

#131 Flesh: Great sfx for the rib taking part, though I still couldn't quite hear all of Jared's statement I'll maybe go back and read it. Again, will there be anything left of John? Wonder if he can like regenerate them, or at the very least not be bothered by loosing two ribs. Nice to see Melanie work out her feelings and John understanding his friends a bit more. And I hope we get to see more of Helen, I like her/it. It doesn't seem to be truly malicious at this point in time so I'll take it. I like Basira but not that big of a fan of her wanting to keep John in the dark, I'm sure she thinks it serves a purpose, but what could it be?

#132 Entombed: Such a good episode!!!! Sometimes when I'm litening to an episode I would like some visuals, like when it's a statement about the Vast or the End, or the Stranger as well, but for this one nothing could better convey the feeling of not being able to reach out to someone you know is close, all encompassing earth not letting in a single ray of light. A black screen I'm sure would just distract from the feelings that Daisy lets out and their fear of just being trapped forever. Also, what were those voices??? Like were Basira or Martin doing a shitty summoning of John just putting on a bunch of statements? Just a coincidence and it was John as he tried to concentrate?? Hopefully that gets explained

#133 Dead Horse: Did Basira get tangled up in a Fear? She's just going round and round, you can't really rely on her anymore. Maybe she still didn't make it all out during the Unkowing, or it just isn't like she wanted it to be. Interesting theory on the Hunt. Seems kinda ironic that in trying to change the world they get lost in the Chase and don't want it to end.

#134 Time of Revelation: Revelations indeed, that was quite a bit of outright explanation. Then we have two rituals to be looking out for, the Eye and stop the Extinction. For the later Lukas is trying to recruit Martin after he struck a deal to protect his friends at the Archive I guess. And I didn't recall the name of the claustophobia thing being Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe but it makes sense of course. Ah so it was Martin that put the tape recorders on, but what compelled him, the Eye? Maybe even the Web since it likes to pupeteer people?

#135 Dark Matter: Finally the last statement from the space exploration, it was not what I was expecting. So Elias is one of those enemies that not even distance keeps you safe, almost feels like he's from the Web and not just the Eye. He's not wrong that it wouldn't have happened without Basira there, but I don't really like it. Still I wonder if Elias knows that now John is aware of it.

#136 The Puppeteer: Nice to see Neil the animatronics guy return, he sounded cool and the concept of him being a puppet bit by bit is quite interesting. So more movement so to speak from the Web. But I don't recall this Alison lady, in any case it was a nice bonding episode for Daisy and John, I do like them together (platonically). So Basira is off to investigate so I'm guessing this connection with Daisy will help John stop the Darkness thing. And was the therapist a whole thing or just Melanie hating recordings now?

#137 Nemesis: Damn at this rate I'm gonna have to keep track of which rituals have failed and when. The again it is pretty obvious only two are relevant at the moment. I'm guessing the one from this statement is what I usually refer to as the War, but apparently it's proper name is Slaughter. I need to go back to that episode where they list them, so I can keep them clear. As to the tapes that John is finding I'm sure that Elias is prefectly aware of what he listens to and when, just like he said to John when he complained about being fed information bit by bit.

#138 The Architecture of Fear: Yay, more Elias. I do like his voice but of course as not that his purpose is being obtuse about information and kinda playing everyone at the Institute. Well in any case it is nice to have it confirmed that there is a new fear emerging, they're actually gonna try to end everything as we know it, to the point where the other ones want to stop it and that Martin is trying to help John as much as possible through reading the statements. Which actually I have a question about that, does he still listen to the tapes because he feels compelled or does he just kinda soak up the knowledge because he's the Archivist? In any case poor Martin, the Lonely really isn't great for him and he hasn't even like sworn himself in properly.

#139 Chosen: What did you see John??? Or was it just too much effort? Anyway it was cool to have another nice wrap up (or as close to) for the Lightless Flame. Again, we knew quite a bit but it was still a bit scrambled. I'll be honest I could do with another listen to fully comprehend but I'm pretty good with what I managed to understand so far.

#140 The Movement of the Heavens: Ok interesting duo, Basira and John, I do like Basira but she's been a bit iffy the last few times. Anyway this will be they're what second or third time derailing a ritual? The Darkness like they have said in the past can sometimes be a bit meh. Although I do like the imagery of the intense nothing that is just slightly different from the Vast, also the weird thing they do with the water.

#141 Doomed Voyage: Damn John you're really coming into your own I see. And yes I agree a bit hypocritical of you Basira to feel uncomfortable about what John can do. Many a time you've basically bemoaned that he didn't have control of his abilities, well now is the time you want him to have more, whatever abilities those may be. Never forget that as much as John wants to be "good" he's at the mercy and whims of the Eye, after all he started on this path because he always wanted more information, no matter the cost. Anyway cool to see more on that front and of course tie up more loose ends. A few chapters ago I was wondering what had happened to Salesa when John read his statement so I guess now I know.

I'll just leave at that because the next seems quite interesting from the description and this is getting quite long

[simiansmoke]

@koopzilla cont.

music

"The meaning behind the words aren't exactly a shock as they are unexpected. An unexpected reality that he didn't prepare to consider while relaxed in the heat of water that helped loosen every tight fiber of being that would have buckled at the realization the Koopa spat callously. It leaves him in a strange in-between state where he doesn't know whether to brace for impact, or melt away to nothing. "...they-...want what's best for me." He compromises, wondering why the space they'd ended up in was so dark all of a sudden, no thanks to the light on his stomach fading in on itself. "...!" A fool, or a prince...were those really the only two options available to him? The Koopa seemed to think so. It grates his nerves. His eyes cram shut as he grinds his teeth. "I'm not-...leashed to a damn thing!" He flings a look up at him, halfway vicious and somewhat like a deer in headlights - angry at the light that illuminated all it couldn't hope to accomplish now.

"Don't you do what you want? Who's calling your shots?" Wanting to peel himself up off the other's knee and go shaking off, he can only shrink in place as the other returns his petilence with another harsh dose of reality.

"..." Eyes like wet soil consider the other's nonchalance coupled with its grudge. "...I-... I didn't desert you." He stands firm to that statement, brows narrowing as he glared up at Bowser. There was no collar to connect the surge of emotion, but the look in his eye spoke volumes. Are you fucking serious? All of this is because of YOU! And I still didn't leave...I could have waited you out, but I didn't leave you! Don't-...leave.

Caught off guard by his whirlwind of thoughts, he feels his chin lifted and his glazed vision clears to consider the red gaze poised above him. Though he would be apt to open his mouth in complaint, the combo of regular sleepiness and the heated vapors lulling him into a limp state get the better of him. The heat is definitely causing red to streak through his face; it's definitely not the large palm taking his and squeezing slightly as if to illicit the broken spell that had once bound their abilities. "B-...ws..." He starts, only to find the fury that followed too much. Teeth grit as his chin is seized fiercely and ripped up with little regard to whether or not he would be able to feel his jaw in the morning, DK snarls, slapping at the air blindly until he managed to land a few dismissive bats to the Koopa's shoulder.

It takes a few more thrashes to end up crumpled on the Koopa's tummy, bobbing in the waters like an overinflated float. Huffing warily, he flings an incredulous look at the other just to see if he was actually serious...then found himself too limp to go about getting revenge over the fact. He slumped in place over the Koopa's grooved tummy, lost in a swirl of frustrating thoughts.

After a quiet moment that earned him a paw to his neck where claws fondly scratched the absence of a collar, he felt his eyes drift shut and struggle to stay there as even eyelids trembled with the effort to keep shuttered when so many thoughts bashed at the windows of his soul in an effort to escape and cause whatever mayhem they wished.

"...you're forgetting a third option." He murmurs, eyes drifting open finally to regard the Koopa's star-gazing with a muddy look in his eyes. With his head already positioned on the Koopa King's pectoral, he rolls his ear and cheek into the flesh and still until he can hear a steady bu-bump of a larger than average heart. A little smile paints itself onto his features as he reaches up to place all fingertips of one hand around the outline where he swore the sounds were coming from. Digging in softly, he continues. "...against you. As in-...against you right now." He elaborates, pulsing his fingertips in place. His stomach glowed warmly as he continued, a low sigh escaping. "...just wish it didn't have to end."