#and i miss candi So Much its unreal

[because-she-goes]

chocolate

warnings: none, just fluff. Enjoy!

What do you get for the boy on the other side of planet who has everything he could ever possibly want. What do you get the girl all the way back in America who could simply thrift or create whatever she needed.

The answer they both came up with was flowers. Matty’s being a classic romantic and liked red roses. Nora loved daisies and how summery they were. They also decided on dessert deliveries. Matty sent muffins for his muffin and Nora sent him the unreal brownies he loved from her place in New York.

So, now here we are. April 8th, 2017. Matty’s 28th.

Matty woke up that morning in his London home, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. They had started work on the next album, still untitled. Him and George were pulling late nights and drinking too many redbulls. His plaid pants hung low on his hips and he pulled on a robe, his house freezing. Going to make his morning cup of tea, he starts checking his phone for any overnight emails or texts from Jamie… he sees a missed call from Nora from last night at about 10pm - 3am London time. He checks the clock and sees its only about 5:30am there, Nora won’t be up for hours. Other than that, no immediate fires that need to be put out. Sipping his tea, he walks to the front door and grabs his newspapers - all the boys collecting them for album material. He loves these types of mornings - slow, relaxed, sleepy. He just wishes Nora could be with him, she had a work meeting tonight with a friend she had who was interested in commissioning something. She told him she would be getting the next flight out of New York in 2 days. He couldn’t wait. Her presence alone making the concrete house feel warm and comforting - like raspberry iced tea and summer time. He worked on a demo for a few hours and by the time lunch rolled around, his doorbell rang. Who could that be? He didn’t order anything and wasn’t expecting anyone. Matty swung the door open, and didn’t see the royal mail person there. Just a box with a note. Looking around again, shrugging his shoulders and picking up the box wrapped in twine with his name and address in a beautiful caligraphy.

Taking the package up to his kitchen, he unwraps it and the note falls to the ground. He takes the card and unfolds it. He inhales sharply when he recognizes the handwriting.

“To My Matthew,

Happiest of birthdays, Handsome! I am sorry I could not be there in person, but figured in the interim before my arrival you’d like a little piece of me. I love you so much, more than the English language will ever be able to articulate. I organized some things to arrive for you today so hopefully you like them. The first of which is a package of brownies from the bakery you love down the street from me, and before you even ask I did get the oreo ones you go nuts for. Don’t spoil your appetite, handsome… the boys’ll be round later to take you out. Have fun and again, I love you more than you’ll ever know.

Xx always,

Your Nora”

Matty was misty eyed, no-one had ever thought to send him something overseas when he was away. No girlfriend ever going that far for him. Putting that out of his brain, not wanting to get too emotional this early in the afternoon he tore open the box of brownies. The decadent smell of chocolate and candy filling the space around him, Matty thew his head back in bliss. “You’ve done it again, Downey!” He says to the universe - hoping someway she hears him. Munching on the brownie, he calls her.

“Well, good morning birthday boy! Gotten any of your gifts so far?” Her peach sweet voice comes through the line after a few rings.

“And a lovely afternoon to you, Honey! Yes actually, the brownies just came. Half already gone I’d like to report. Best brownies ever! What else is in store may I ask, beloved?”

“Oh, you’re good Matthew. I will be honest, I may have ordered a pack for myself to get delivered to the studio later. They truly are god’s gift to baking. As for the rest of the agenda, that is for me to know and for you to find out. Wouldn’t exactly be a birthday surprise if you knew, now would it, Handsome?”

“No it wouldn’t, Darling… Just know that when June rolls around and I’m locked away in a writing dungeon, I am gonna outdo whatever you have 10 fold.”

“You got yourself a challenge, Handsome.” She smiles. “Okay, I gotta run. I love you baby and happy birthday, I’ll be there before you know it.”

“Okay, good luck, Honey! I love you and am counting down the minutes.”

With that, another ring of the door bell comes as Matty hangs up the phone. Before him he sees a floral van and a young girl nervously holding a delicate bouquet of red roses and what look to be little bits of eucalyptus and white hydrangea. Oh, she knows him way too well, he thinks as he opens the door to the teenager.

“A Matty Healy?”

“I’m him! Thank You, doll. Have a good day!” He says to the girl as he tips her a few pounds and shuts the door softly. He grabs a vase and holds the flowers to his nose, he sighs in content. She really does know him incredibly well, a perfectly beautiful yet subtle arrangement.

Matty enjoys the rest of his day, texting her a picture of the brownie box now empty once the boys came and the flowers in their vase on his kitchen table. He blushed as she sent a kiss emoji and a “all for you, birthday boy <3”. Maybe 28 wasn’t going to be so terrible after all.

June in New York, Nora Downey turned 25 as the clocks struck 3:51am on the 16th.

She awoke quite differently than her other half. She slept through her alarm and wokd up a whole hour later for an appointment with her therapist. Calling the office, she rescheduled for the following day and was told it wasn’t any issue. Deciding to grab some coffee and swing by the local bookstore for her monthly magazine grab. Getting some copies of i-D magazine, DORK, Rolling Stone, British Vogue and British GQ. Heading back home excitedly to read her magazines, she gets a call from Matty.

“Hey baby, hows your birthday going? Doing anything fun today?” She smiles at his voice and the petname.

“Uhh, just heading home to read some magazines and things. Then maybe go to my painting and wine class!” He wishes he could be with her, but things with the album and the guys wanting to go to the countryside for the summer to write and work was just getting a little hectic. He does appreciate though that she is atleast doing something for her day, she raves about these wine and paint classes she started years ago. He still kept his plan of sending her a little something to her apartment, but she must have not seen it yet.

“Oh, that sounds fun! Me and the guys were gonna drive up north today and work at that studio I mentioned last week. Maybe I can facetime later and we can have a little virtual dinner date, yeah?”

“Sounds lovely, Handsome. I’m almost home by the way so sorry if this cuts out or if I go quiet trying to get upstairs.”

“Not a problem, take your time, Muffin.”

Getting to her building and clicking the button for the elevator she is shocked when she reaches her door.

“Healy, what have you done? Oh my god, don’t tell me you actually went through with the thing I joked about in Apri…”

“Oh, yes I did, Baby! Hope you love them, gotta run! Happy Birthday and I love you most!”

“Impossible, Handsome!”

Hanging up, grabbing the gorgeous bouquet of roses and daisies and the box she slides her keys in and kicks the door open. Knocking it closed, she carefully puts down the gifts on her entry table next to her key dish. Running to grab the cold champagne she keeps in case of emergencies from her fridge, a glass and a vase she makes me way back to the entry for the flowers. Setting the vase down on the living room table, she fills it with water and the flowers. Pouring her champagne, getting the box and magazines she sets up her afternoon. Nora goes to her bedroom, slides off her overalls and throws on a flannel shirt she stole from Matty and jean shorts. Gathering her hair in a ponytail and walking back to her idea of heaven, she sits comfortably on the couch. Snapping a picture of her and her treasures, she sends it to Matty - fully knowing its gonna drive him crazy that she’s in his shirt alone in her apartment.

“Couldn’t ask for a better start to 25 xx” She presses send and takes a bite of the incredible chocolate swirl muffins. She couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend.

[asshymar]

Figment

Figment, Figment of my Imagination

I ring, and sing, tinge or hue of the dead

I spin my red head in my cozy bed

I said I said I'll get to it

Again, again,

The room spins, rinse the taste

Apply the toothpaste

And don't waste, yr space

Tidy up, hup ho

The show commences

The suspense is immense

But seriously, i rarely, barely, and scarcely

Embarrassedly, stand in

I miss the stars

My tiny heart scars

Northern light would free me

From this blight, tight my chest

I cannot rest, the best

Behest test of the holy crest

I spend my rending, unendingly

Candle flames as fan cuts air waves

Loaded video game saves

Unreal lights cast, color raves on

Flower, sun, & Rain,

Kill the past, Kill yr pain

Okay say what you mean pal

My mouth melded shut, knock’d flat

On my butt, cut the tape

Vape, crepe in Amsterdam, damn

The dutch interior is awfully inferior.

And no fever beaver, believer deceiver,

Receiver of this message, blessed is

The words like tiny buddhas

Who'da thunk it? Chunky

Monkey, it’s all a bit funky.

Hieroglyphics pictorial intelligence,

Expects correct verbal connects

From obscure texts with next to

No context, what’s next…

Ancient enchanted hex

My pictures are richer than

Cheesecake, never faked

Not once half baked, hey

Take a break-

Tonight for dinner, a nice juicy steak.

Large gaping eyes to summon

Among the few, monster spew

Gopher guts, crazy old nuts Hil

Who sputter and clutter, my rutter

Cuts thru grime, slime, and crime

Signant, newly acquired pigment

Ligament described in sublime

Form, hm… visual rhyme

To encase, the fragility of time

Since the beginning, there’s no winning

Grinning, i’m simmering, glimmering,

But shortly my heart halts

Bitter like hops and malts

Alternative, are representative

Attentive lectures performatively sure.

Dreaming of a golden shore

A take five breaks in my teeth

Crunchy, munchy, a bunch of candy

How dandy. You can barely stand me

I know, don't put on some show.

But what do you ever know,

To blow, slow, or escrow and hit

Below the belt, and spit on

Those you’ve writ judgments

Ill hold this grudge, ever since

Rain spills violently

Hell bentley spent quickly

Much too much gasoline,

Speckled frame gleans, with

A hue of red, and deadly sheen

Ween the spleen routine fixtures

Now picture this, split wrist

Writ trists of bliss hiss hiss

Snakes tongue rung the bell

“How could you tell?”

Technology could do little to dispel

The mythology, what hypocrisy

The hunger burns, churns in forums

Takes unholy forms, worms, squirms

Evil incarnate, gosh darn it

Necropolis apocalypse, in process of

The bosses, their losses, coin

Tosses- Heads, lead to new bets

New upsets, no rest.

Clutched deeply in my chest

What hope lies at the bitter

End of this burnt rope, it ties

Severed, leveled, in spite

Of petty things, like who is right?

Out of all the things people write

The wind pushes the technicolor

Kite, it might waver, but

Oh my, what a sight the

Ability of flight, its tight

Alright, it’s quite the fight

Unholy light, roly poly

Hides it face, solely,

Unformed, thru the earth

Wormed, and warmed,

You stole me, unalarmed

Storms formed, torn un born

Scorn of the earth-

Unasked for birth, what’s the worth

The ember that lies in the hearth

Eternally lit mirth

Scandals of vandals who mark

Walls not their own, lets light

One candle, to handle,

No dice, I’m wearing sandals

Words in terms, bitter salt sprinkled on fire burns

Take turns, my heart yearns, to at once, wrinkle

In spite my will continues to fight, holy light roly

Poly, I want to explain, my mind refrains, from

Doing so, yo-yo, train of thought goes, death throes

Patching together, sew phrasing, raising awareness

Life is a huge mess, my mind, how kind you thought

Of me, but can you really see the reality, oh moon beams

Seize, I believe, I receive the book, this outlook

Could cook, thoughts tender, come a while we’ll take

A bender, explore the splendor, you big spender

Render unto me, wind whistling thru the trees

And dirt speckling my freckled knee, heckled by bees

Free to wander, deepened the bond with her, spurs

Exotic furs, yours and mine, a better time, redder

I bet to confer, insure, alas it’s a cold and lonely life

Lass, don't sass, exacerbate, please elaborate, exonerate

“I need you to check the shipment of that crate” Great.

[eyefocusing]

im a simple man. i see @neapoliting‘s jan design, and im compelled to draw him

(panels from legion lost #11 and legionnaires #77)

[five-rivers]

If u r taking prompts:

What if OfA is haunted in such a way that Izuku suddenly gets a craving for (insert food long out of production) and gets increasingly frustrated when he can't find it? Or like, he unconsciously cooks like Nana and co? Like, I imagine Hikage alone imparted some weird comfort foods

Standing in the middle of the grocery store, Izuku dreamed with his eyes wide open. Moving pictures he'd never seen whispered like distant music in his mind's eye. It swelled like ocean waves beneath steady feet. If he swallowed, he could taste licorice and green onions.

He blinked, long and slow and lucid, the crackling of the store intercom rolling off his shoulders. He was awake, and the whiteness of the shelves was sharp and cold.

He blinked again, at the end of the aisle, and everything snapped into focus. His basket was full. He remembered filling it. But... He flipped through brands familiar and unfamiliar. This shopping trip had an air of unreality to it. He had still managed to pick up everything the class had requested and everything he needed to make dinner tomorrow night.

Humming slightly, he walked to the checkout. He couldn't wait to have some of that licorice.

He paused and tilted his head. Licorice?

There was some in the basket, but he didn't particularly care for it, especially not the black kind. But it did remind him of Blackwhip. He shrugged. It was okay to have cravings.

.

Izuku didn't often get food cravings. But when he did, he'd go through a lot to satisfy them. Which was why he was up so late at night, trawling through English-language websites, trying to find the right kind of licorice, because whatever he had gotten at the store was not it. Something was missing.

As he rocketed through page after page of image search, his eyes caught on brightly colored packaging.

Ha!

There it was!

He clicked on it.

11 Famous Discontinued Candies of the Early-Quirk Era.

He let his head his the keyboard. Of course.

Wait. How did he even know what that licorice tasted like if it had been discontinued a hundred years ago?

.

"Wow, Midoriya! This is great!"

"Thanks," said Izuku, blushing. "I think it's the ginger."

"I wouldn't have thought to put ginger in this," said Sato. "Where did you learn the recipe?"

"From, um..." Izuku frowned. "I'm not sure, actually..."

Normally, he'd say his mother, but he was pretty sure she'd never made this.

"The internet, probably," said Kacchan roughly as he added a copious amount of chili flakes to his dish. "This isn't one of Auntie Inko's."

"Yeah, probably," agreed Izuku, watching Kacchan with vague fascination. He never put on that much spice when he wasn't eating in front of other people. Was it a competition thing?

There was a knock on the front door. "Come in!" chorused half the class.

All Might slowly opened the door. "I'm just here to remind you about- oh, my, that smells lovely."

"Come eat with us!" said Izuku. "We have lots extra!"

"Well," said All Might, stepping in. "It wouldn't hurt to have a little..."

He sat down at the table, and Izuku served him a helping appropriately sized for someone who had no stomach. All Might took a bite... and immediately started crying.

"All Might? Are you okay?!" asked Izuku. "Are you allergic? Do you have an epi-pen? Someone call Recovery G-!"

"I'm fine, young Midoriya! I'm quite alright. It's just... this reminds me of something my- something an old friend of mine used to make."

.

.

.

Bonus:

Most heroes would never encounter a wilderness survival situation in their careers, but UA believed in its students being well rounded- and also villains with warp quirks. So, here they were, in the woods, learning about how to find water and different edible plants.

Speaking of edible plants...

"Problem child, what did you just eat?"

"A mushroom."

"A mushroom!" shrieked the hero teaching the special course. "I was hoping to get through this without pumping anyone's stomach-"

"But they're edible," protested Izuku, pointing.

"They're-! Huh. Okay. Those ones actually are. But mushrooms can be hard to identify, so for my peace of mind..."

"No more mushrooms," said Izuku. "Got it."

[cookie-run-kingdom-story]

Heroes of the Light: Epilogue

(Screenshots from Royal Mike!)

Solarium of Unity Villager Cookie 3: Ooh, are we eating our lunchbox in the Solarium of Unity today? Villager Cookie 5: I’m gonna sit here! The view of the sparkly glasses here is amazing! Pure Vanilla Cookie: … Black Raisin Cookie: Pure Vanilla Cookie, what’re you thinking about? Black Raisin Cookie: You miss your Ancient buddies? Pure Vanilla Cookie: It’s okay! I can now meet them whenever I want to. Pure Vanilla Cookie: I was just thinking how nice it’d be if the Solarium of Unity could become a place for all Cookies to come together. Pure Vanilla Cookie: I know that even those who may not get along right now… will find reconciliation here, some day.

Hollyberry Cookie’s Chamber This room was Hollyberry Cookie’s chamber. Let’s keep it clean until she comes back!

Clotted Cream Cookie’s Chamber Everything is so clean and tidy. The room is always kept neat, in case of Clotted Cream Cookie’s return.

Dark Cacao Cookie’s Tent The barracks are perfectly clean, as if no one had stayed here. Let’s keep it that way until Dark Cacao Cookie comes back.

Wafflebot Hangar Strawberry Crepe Cookie and Espresso Cookie are researching away, muttering complicated technical terms.

Crow’s Nest Inn The empty beds are waiting for new Cookie guests.

Plaza Villager Cookie 1: La da da… Sweeping here, sweeping there… Raisin Crow: CAAAW! Villager Cookie 1: Here, a raisin! Enjoy! Villager Cookie 1: It’s so quiet without GingerBrave… Even the plaza is silent.

Convocation Chamber These chambers witness new meetings every day. What could be today’s agenda?

Republic Airfield Numerous airships arrive and depart from here daily. You can hear the traveler’s excited conversations.

Paladin Academy Vanilla Sugar Cookie: I see that the cadets are training hard today! Vanilla Sugar Cookie: They’re all focused and hard at work, even just after that horrendous battle! Vanilla Sugar Cookie: Such fine, reliable Cookies! The future is in safe hands. Vanilla Sugar Cookie: May the Divine Light bless their path…!

Divine Sanctum Orphan Cookie 1: Have you seen Elder Mille-feuille Cookie recently? Orphan Cookie 2: No, not really… Maybe she went to meet the Divine Light? Orphan Cookie 1: Ooh, I bet she’ll have a bunch of stories to tell us! I can’t wait to see her again!

Monument Spire Everyone is walking around peacefully. It seems unreal that a war had broken out just recently.

Mansion Custard Custard Butler: Elder Custard Cookie is not available at the moment. Or in the near future. Farewell.

Mansion Madeleine Madeleine Cookie’s Third Auntie: Come back anytime you need a place to stay!

Institute of Thaumaturgy Researcher Cookie 1: Phew! Thank goodness that the Republic is taking care of the shattered windows and damaged facilities! Researcher Cookie 2: Yeah… I was so worried that they would hold us accountable! Researcher Cookie 2: So… I guess we’re done with researching the Magic Candies? Researcher Cookie 1: I… think so! Espresso Cookie isn’t here anymore, so… Researcher Cookie 2: Wow, so many things happened! Remember that time when we had so much caffeine? Researcher Cookie 1: Ha ha! Yeah, but it was also super fun! Researcher Cookie 1: I don’t think we’ll ever have an exhilarating project like that! Researcher Cookie 2: Aw… I already miss working with Professor Espresso Cookie!

Fountain Piazza Sablé Cookie: Sigh… the piazza…! I’ve put in so much work…! Now shattered into pieces! Sablé Cookie: Like a biscuit that fell off a table… Sablé Cookie: No time to waste! We must restore its former glory at once! Sablé Cookie: As the Elder of the Arts… I shall make this place the most beautiful piazza in all* Earthbread! *actual text

Espresso Cookie’s Lab The place is empty. It looks like no one visited it for a while.

Manor Oyster Oyster Cookie: …Everything is so quiet. I suppose the battle is finally over. Oyster Cookie: Clotted Cream Cookie… He played quite the important role in these series of events. Oyster Cookie: Shall we enjoy peace for now?

Harbor Captain Caviar Cookie: The sea’s clear and blue today, just like always! Captain Caviar Cookie: It doesn't matter whether the Cookies are fighting, slandering, or even waging war! The sea simply observes us from afar, sending us wave after wave! Captain Caviar Cookie: Let’s protect these waters and keep the Darkness at bay! Republic Sailor Cookie 1: Aye, aye, captain! We will stand by you until the very end! Republic Sailor Cookie 1: Don’t forget about me!

Market Merchant Cookie 1: Special deal! Get a Soul Jam Badge, get another one for free! Merchant Cookie 2: Souvenirs from the Cookie Kingdom Delegation! A set of three for just 50 Coins!

Back Alley Not a single crumb can be found. Not even Missionary Cookie. You can no longer hear her hushed chanting.

Choco Mud Town Seaweed Cookie: I wonder if everyone got back home safely?

[oftenderweapons]

Steamy Waters — Jungkook

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 7.7k 

Genre: smut, pwp; initial fluff, but don’t let that fool you; established relationship;  idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello my fluffy ducklings, welcome to Jeongguk’s Steamy Waters 😈

I won’t even pretend there’s a plot in this. It’s just Jk, coming home from the gym and finding excuses to shower with his gf. Set almost a month after Love Talk, Jeongguk is finally ready to take a big step in his relationship with Candy, however finding the courage for the big leap is excruciating. Candy is more than willing to reward him before asking for something in return, she simply doesn’t know how much her game will cost her. 

I decided I’ll keep using the nickname the nickname “Guk”, (see more in this post). Now, straight on to...

TRIGGER WARNINGS: unprotected sex within an established relationship (don’t do that unless YOU’RE TESTED AND CLEAN), mentions of therapy and mental health; sweaty jock!Jungkook, smitten!Jungkook who can’t express his emotions but IS WORKING ON IT, with a very supportive gf; I guess there’s a striptease, if you like... squint?; masturbation (female and male receiving); breast worship; period talk; very intimate love confession; foreplay under the shower (specifically mutual oral sex — aka 69 — while laying on the floor); predator/prey dynamics (namely she runs and he chases her, finds her as she tries to hide, drags her out and throws her over his shoulder); plenty of lube (lube is important and useful, let’s normalise using it); lots of degradation and objectification, name calling (fuckdoll, slut, cocksleeve, cockfairy), very multiple orgasms — like a lot; edging (both male and female receiving), begging, crying, slight humiliation. These two know all the possible variations to missionary sex (sorry not sorry); biting; slightest, most delicate face slapping and grabbing; spanking; tattoo fetish; cumplay, mentions of cum eating. 

[Inspired by this look]

Here is my masterlist and check out my non-idols!AU (Partition update coming on Sat, Jan 23rd!!!) 

Remember to vote for next prompt (link in bio)!

And now, enjoy ✨💜

————————————

The entry door smashed loudly sometime around ten p.m., followed by the thud of a bag falling to the floor, Jeongguk’s heavy steps stopping as he took of his shoes.

The moment he appeared he looked unreal, with an oversized black shirt reaching his mid thigh, the sleeves exposing his forearms and part of his tattoos, his hair falling messily in wet curls over his forehead.

“Candy, babe?” He called from the entry. “I’m home!”

“Guk?” You called from the kitchen, your head peeking around the corner. He spotted you and smiled.

“What you doing there?” He said with a smile, sauntering towards you, standing at your side and placing a hand around your waist as you stood by the stove.

You turned and stood on your tiptoes, puckering your lips and closing your eyes.

He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I’m messy.” He said, close to your mouth.

“Are you fresh out of the gym?” You asked.

He nodded. “I haven’t even showered yet. I wanted to come home as soon as possible.” His fingers rubbed your side gently, trying not to tickle you. “I missed you a lot today.”

You smiled as you finished warming up his favourite post-workout snack. “I’ve already eaten. I thought you might be hungry.” You said, just as he stole the ladle and took a sip.

“Yum!” He commented, placing the utensil back in your hand. He stood behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I wanna hug you but I’m too sweaty.” He commented as he kneeled the tense muscles of your neck.

You shook your head. “Oh, these need to be washed,” you said, referring to your outfit. “We went to a bulgogi place today and I feel like I smell so bad.”

“You haven’t showered yet?” He asked, his hands slowing down, almost stopping.

“No… I switched on the tv and there was this interesting old interview with Miyazaki and I got caught up.” You explained with a cheery tone.

“The Japanese director and artist?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You confirmed, switching off the stove and pouring a couple ladles of noodles and broth in a bowl, adding some basic decorations on top.

He paused before wrapping an arm around your waist. “Can I hug you then?” He asked gently, almost too quietly for you to hear.

Still, there was no way you wouldn’t hear his voice. Sometimes you thought you could hear his very thoughts.

“Of course you can hug me, Guk.”

His body adhered to yours without hesitation, a low moan exiting his throat as he felt you sink even deeper into him, pressing into his body, almost trying to hide into him.

“I said I missed you.” He said shyly, waiting for you to praise him as he opened up about his emotions.

You were working through it, together, trying to make him open up more, offer you more of himself, of his feelings and fears.

“I missed you too, baby. I love you.” You spoke against his chest, taking in the clean and humid scent of his skin. He always smelled so good even after working out. Especially after working out.

Your hormones did a somersault.

“Today I felt very… restless.”

That was a very specific word for his emotional vocabulary. Lately, he was getting better and better, finding new words that fit his moods appropriately. His way of speaking was always plain, in the best meaning of the term. He is simple and transparent, always using basic words with great meaning. That seemed to be his style, pure and direct, honest.

However, he was growing a lot, even emotionally. He was slowly losing the adjective “young” that people normally put before the word “man” when trying to describe him.

He is a man. And an excellent one at that. Sure, a bit naive sometimes, and still shy, but he always showed a caring, attentive side whenever you tried to speak your needs and grievances within your relationship.

“Mh… What made you feel restless today?” You asked, repeating an exercise that your psychologist always made you do when you were a teen.

“We practiced a choreo all morning. And we always messed up the same part. There’s a very difficult transition and it’s just… so difficult to end up in the right position after the passage.” He said, huffing out loudly.

You thought about his food getting cold, still you knew that if you made him eat the conversation would quite surely stop. “Anything else, baby?” You asked, kissing his breastbone.

“We had a couple interviews this afternoon. One with a radio and another one with a talk show.” He said. “I’m glad that my English is improving. Namjoon hyung said he’s proud of me and that I did a good job.”

You heard the smile in his voice.

“Even Yoongi hyung said I did a good job. And he offered me a tangerine!” He said enthusiastically.

You rubbed his back. “We’re all proud of you, baby.” You said fondly.

“Thank you.” He replied and when you looked up at his face you saw his ears flush red.

“Time to eat, Koo.” You said, pressing your hands to the sides of his head, trying to calm down the blush.

He smiled.

He looked beautiful.

On your tiptoes, you kissed the mole under his lip, shortly before he picked you up by the waist and brought you at his eye level, your arms anchoring behind his neck as he pushed his mouth to yours. “Thank you.” He said again, that feeling in his chest getting more and more urgent.

He would say it. Just… Not now.

He had plans.

He took the bowl and a spoon in his hand, the other one staying around your back, pulling you to the table with him. First he placed down the objects and then he sat, still holding your hand, tugging at it gently and making you sit across his lap.

You giggled and adjusted yourself, your forearm moving behind him and securing you to his back.

He pecked your temple and thanked for the food quickly before digging in, slurping loudly and devouring the whole meal in eager, large spoonfuls.

“No one’s stealing your food, baby, don’t eat too fast.” You said, worried as he paused for a moment, only to take a few breaths and dig in again, finishing the bowl.

He placed down the spoon and rubbed his belly, exhaling with a satisfied grin.

You smirked. “Would you like some more?”

He shook his head no. “I wanna shower.” He said, placing the spoon in the bowl and handing both to you; but before you could protest, thinking he was asking you to tidy up, he moved one arm under your knees, the other around your shoulders, picking you up bridal style.

“Guk, for goodness’ sake!” You shrieked, trying to secure yourself with one arm, the other holding the bow.

“Trust me,” He said, “I’ve got you.” He reassured you, stopping in front of the sink and helping you place the bowl down. Next, he made you sit on the counter, “I need both hands free for this,” he said, picking up the pot and covering it with its lid before placing it back inside the fridge.

He would deal with that later.

“Come here,” he called, standing between your legs and picking you up again, his hands pressed to the back of your thighs. You pushed your nose against the soft hair of his nape. “Where are we going?” You asked, curious.

“Shower.” He said, reaching the room and placing you down near the sink in the dim light coming in from the window. He looked at the saffron gleam of the streetlights landing on the floor, cutting a thin, long stripe landing at your feet.

He took a step forward and stood in it, his black shirt immediately absorbing the light with a curious pattern of shadows that seemed to offer small outlines of the taut, solid muscles underneath.

Jeongguk stood there, fascinated with the way you looked at him, almost ready to hide his face in his hands before you traced the line of his collarbone, then up his throat, until you reached the deep darkness enshrouding his mouth.

“Would you take off your shirt?” You asked, cupping his jaw.

He nodded. “In a second.” He said, staring some more.

He would have never believed he looked at you the same way you looked at him, weren’t it for the picture that had become his new desktop wallpaper a few hours ago. Jin had sent him a picture of the night Jungkook had introduced you to the boys, a week after the two of you had reunited. In the picture, you were talking with Jimin and Taehyung, the older leaning into you as he laughed hysterically while the younger looked at you like you had hung the very stars in the sky. Sitting on the sofa, you glanced up at Jeongguk as he stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders, a large grin on his face and the warmest feeling glittering in his eyes, his ears bright as your own lips opened up in a soft smile.

And now he stood in front of you and you were gorgeous. And he felt so in love.

So desperate to touch you.

But you looked like a vision, a mirage ready to disappear like his unsteady feelings; like that ugly, lying voice could come up any moment and make his doubt you and himself, making him believe that he was incapable of understanding true love, that he had been fooled once and it was sweet like this at the beginning until all there was left was barren land and bitter dust.

He took off his shirt. You moved away the hand on his face before you got tangled up, giving him space until his naked torso was right in front of you.

“You’ve been getting skinnier.” You said, placing your hands on his pectorals. “You’ve lost weight?” You asked, cupping his face again.

“It’s why I’m exercising. It was hard to keep a routine while I was gone.” He explained, placing his hands around your wrists and pushing them down. “Am I not strong enough? Fit enough?” He asked once your hands were resting on his pectorals.

Your thumbs circled his nipples, making them harden immediately. “No, baby.” You argued, a bit disappointed. “I’m saying I wouldn’t mind if you slowed down with the gym and ate a tiny bit more.” You replied. “I love you. I don’t care about your looks, but you’re all bones and muscles. I don’t mind the flesh.” You said, pinching his belly and finding only skin between your fingers. “I’m saying I don’t want you to be so hard on yourself.” You explained before your hands travelled to the ribbon of his sweats.

“You want me to put on some weight?” He asked, incredulous.

“I just want you to be healthy and eat enough food to match your workouts, and do anything you want with your body without feeling pressured. True Army will love you with or without abs.” You raked your nails across his taut abdomen. “And I don’t care as long as I get to touch you like this. Or kiss you here.” You said, following the shape of his cock with a finger.

He smiled and blushed — which you couldn’t see, considering the dark room. What you did feel was his sex twitching and hardening some more. He moaned weakly, his head falling forward and landing on your shoulder. “You mean you care only about blowing me?” He asked, his hips pushing against your palm, his hair tickling your neck and ear, making you arch away from his sinfully messy mop of hair.

You cupped him from over his sweats, massaging him slowly, gently. “Let’s say it’s a pretty important factor in our relationship.” You joked, nuzzling your nose against his head.

“Mh...” He commented meditatively. “How important compared to your love for me?” He asked, mouthing at the underside of your jaw, chuckling and teasing it with the vibrations of his voice clad in a deep rumble and the thick, teasing accent of his dialect.

“Mh… they’re neck and neck for factor number one.” You teased back, tracing his happy trail with your index finger.

“Neck and neck, you say...” He mused, nipping at your throat harshly, making you gasp. “Let’s see what happens if I take it away from you.” He wondered as he took a step away, out of your grasp.

You tried to keep touching him until he was too far for you to reach.

“Hands to yourself, babe.” He scolded as you licked your lips, looking at him as he switched on the soft led from the shower, lowering it to a soft dark red. “Promise me you’ll keep your naughty fingers at bay.” He asked, taking one step toward you.

You nodded eagerly, “I promise. Please.” You begged, placing your palms flat on your thighs and waiting for him to come closer. Once more he stood between your legs, his hands catching your wrists and bringing your arms behind your back, indirectly making your spine arch forward and push your breasts up.

He stared unashamed at your curves, barely visible over the large cotton blouse. “Keep your hands there.” He said, his fingers starting at your buttons. “My turn.” He said, undoing enough buttons to reach the lower hem of your bra, his hands sliding into the opening and cupping your breast from the lower, outer part, pressing them together and planting his face right in the crevasse, making you laugh at the drastic way he dove in.

“You good there, Guk?”

He nodded simply. “God, if you’re listening, this is a good moment to die.” He commented gingerly. “Let my girlfriend’s tits be the last thing I see before I pass.” He went on. “Amen.”

The laughter overtook you, your whole body wiggling with giggles. “Admit it, you love my tits way more than you love me.” You said before realising that the joke didn’t work both ways: even though you had confessed your feelings, he hadn’t done so with an actual declaration yet.

“Neck and neck.” He replied, letting his feelings implicitly show with ambiguous confessions.

He drew the upper curve of each breast with small kisses while his fingers worked the buttons left. The moment he reached the last one, he undid it and raised his head, looking you in the eye for the longest, slowest seconds in the history of the universe. His lips collided with yours, pressure building and building until you separated, galaxies of feelings and sensations blooming in both of you.

His hands pushed the blouse off your shoulders, letting it slide to your wrists. Next, he moved the straps of your bra off your shoulders kissing the slope of your neck and collarbone slowly and leisurely on the left side, before turning to the other side and parting his lips, letting half an inch of his tongue hang from his mouth and trace the ridge of your collarbone, his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra. The garment slid lower, your breasts heavier now without the support of the small cage. “Are they sore?” He asked, kissing you under your ear before moving his hands to your forearms, freeing you from the shirt.

“A bit. It was hot outside today.” You paused. “And my period’s close.” You added, hoping he didn’t get embarrassed by the small statement.

He stayed silent for half a minute. “How close?” He asked, moving your arm to your front so he could remove one strap, then focusing on the other one, baring your torso completely.

“It should be… four or five days away.” You said after making a quick count.

He nodded before cupping your face and kissing your mouth. “Do you need me to stock anything in the house?” He asked, parting from your face and looking you in the eye? “Sanitary products, comfort food, anything?” He asked, his gaze so soft and caring you felt a string of your heart snap and break.

“I have those at home.” You said, combing his hair away from his face, the red light making his eyes even more intense, his lips even more tempting.

“You won’t be here on the weekend?” He asked, suddenly hesitant. “I know we met today because I called you and normally you prefer staying at your place on weekdays and coming over for the weekend; but I thought that meeting today wouldn’t mean I wouldn’t have the weekend.” He said, confused and a little bit sad. Even with the dim lights you could see the disappointed look on his face.

“I thought that since I had my per—”

“It’s not like I wouldn’t want to cuddle and sleep with you. You know I—” love you. “I don’t want only sex.” He said, frowning.

You noticed he grew increasingly upset, his teeth torturing his lower lip.

Can’t you just fucking say it, Jeon Jeongguk, for goodness’ sake! His brain snapped at him, but his heart stayed guarded and wary.

“Come here.” You said, opening your arms, and letting him barricade himself into your embrace, your chest hot against his, the late summer night making both your and his skin clammy. “I know you care about me.” You said, your hand sliding into the long locks of his nape. “I’m not used to this, Guk. You know how we did this before you left.”

“This is not before I left. This is now.” He said, his voice so insecure. “I want everything. The cuddles and the sex and the feelings and… all of it. I want to be there for you. Always.” He said, raising up, towering over you as hegave up on the protection of your arms and offered you the safety of his own. “I want you to count on me. To trust me and tell me when something’s wrong. I want to support you and protect you.” He said, more and more determined. “I want to be the one you want when you had a stressful day and you need to talk. I want your problems too, ____. I want the ugly bits too. I don’t want you to choose the parts that you think I can handle and offer those alone.” He patted your head before making you look at him. “I want everything, Candy. Every damn thing, baby. The good, the bad and the in between.” He bent to your ear and closed his eyes, leaning into you, pressing his forehead to your temple. “Will you let me be there for you, baby, please?” He asked, begging, holding the crown of your head with one hand and your waist with the other.

You nodded, almost too emotional. “Yes.” You replied simply before he pressed you to his chest, where his heart beat so loud you thought he would get a heart attack.

He placed both hands on your waist lifting you off the counter and placing you with your feet on the floor. “Take off your trousers and panties, Candy.” He spoke softly as he watched your hands slide down your sides dragging the garments all the way to your ankles before stepping out of them. He placed them in the basket with the dirty laundry.

“Your sweats,” you said, trying to reach for the waistband.

“No,” he said, getting undressed by himself.

Just like that, you stood naked in front of each other, his eyes focused on your face, your gaze laced with his.

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered, cupping the side of your neck before letting his hand skim your chest, the plumpness on your breast, the sensitive curve of your waist, his palm stopping at your hip before his fingers sunk into your flesh, his eyes following his hand with unbreakable focus.

Gently, he tugged you toward the shower, making you stop before entering. “Let me get the temperature right.” He said, opening the tap and waiting a little before the water turned warm. You stared at him as he tested the spray and dove under, small rivulets rolling down his body, following the curve of his back, drenching his hair and rolling down his cheeks as he rubbed his face with his hands.

“Come, babe.” Jeongguk said, stretching his hand toward you.

Biting your lip, you took a few steps before he moved out of the spray, hugging you before he took a small step back, your and his body both under the water. You simply pressed your mouth to the base of his throat while his hands made sure that your hair got properly wet before he could wash them.

Your hands moved down his back, from his shoulder blades to the small of his back, until you managed to reach the full roundness of his ass, massaging it slowly, comfortably.

He snickered. “Are you comfy there?” He asked, just as his hands reached your own ass and squeezed it. “Does that feel good?”

You nodded, the sound of the water drowning your small moan. “Let me.” You said, turning around and rubbing at your hair, making sure it was soaked.

His hands followed the curves of your body capturing your heavy breasts in his palms. He took a deep breath before he stretched to reach his body wash, pouring some in his palm and foaming it up before spreading it over your skin, the scent of his soap filling the space.

The lights were making it even more intimate, with the red-to-black spectrum tinging the experience in a variety of tones of eroticism. First and foremost, the mildest but most difficult of them all: intimacy.

Jeongguk placed his hands on your waist, making you turn around. You were there, with your hair pushed back, your beautiful face completely exposed to his observing stare. He couldn’t hold your gaze.

He poured more shower gel on his palm and after it turned into a small handful of bubbles he bent down and divided it between his hands, bending down and washing your legs, until he knelt, washing your feet.

“Guk.” You called shyly.

He hummed in reply, just as he took a gentler soap meant for your intimate parts. He pumped a dollop on his hand and foamed it briskly before cupping your vulva delicately, focusing on the simple, affectionate task at hand, making sure to spread your labia as you parted your legs slightly to let him have access. He rubbed the palm slowly, lightly against your skin, not sparing the back, in between your ass cheeks, waiting for the water to rinse his hands and clean you fully.

He felt ready.

His hands cupped your hips, holding tight without his fingers digging in, all the pressure focused on his palms.

He kissed your belly button.

“I love you.” He almost whispered.

You were far too lost in sensations to be sure that he had actually said what you thought you had heard.

“What?” You asked, looking down at him.

He delivered another small kiss on your tummy and looked up. “I love you, ____.” He said, before smiling timidly.

“You love me?” You asked, incredulous.

“Yes. I love you, Candy. A whole damn lot.” He said, kissing a straight line from your belly to your pubic bone, stopping there. “I wanna… Can I… Can I taste you?” He asked, waiting on his knees, removing his hands and mouth from you, letting you choose freely.

You looked at him before your mouth opened in the happiest, widest smile you had ever given him. “I love you, you know that, right?” You told him, touching his face, combing his hair back.

He nodded. “I love you too.” He said, and the more he said that, the more his body felt how right, how true it was.

“You wanna eat me out?” You asked as he nodded furiously.

You lifted a leg, ready to place it on his shoulder when he sat on his hip, then turned with his back to you, laying flat on the floor, his head away from the water spray.

Your brow furrowed before he tucked his elbows next to his torso, his hands close to his face before he grinned and wiggled his fingers in a “come forth” motion.

“Uhm…” You wondered, confused for a brief moment, trying to understand if he really meant for you to ride his face, especially since you were both still trying to understand the whole cunnilingus discourse.

“Sit on my face?” He asked, his cheeks blushing — which fortunately you couldn’t see with the current lighting, he considered.

Your eyebrows shot up. “You sure?” You asked.

“Pretty sure, yes. If you want to, of course.” He replied.

Slowly you lowered yourself to your knees, his hands circling your waist and heading up, up, until he met your breasts, before heading down again, fixing your hips right against his lips.

“I’m gonna start now, Candy.” He warned you, “you can ask me to stop whenever you want to, baby.”

“Wait!” You called. “Is it okay if I blow you?” You asked, pretty sure that it would be good for your mind space if you dedicated yourself to his pleasure, easing the mental pressure you felt whenever someone went down on you. After all, Jeongguk had been the first to make you cum during oral sex, and even with him sometimes you struggled reaching your high.

“You want to sixty-nine?” He asked, trying to comfort you by lacing his fingers with yours.

“I wanna try?” You asked. “Maybe it all works better if I’m not thinking about it too much. I could use a…distraction?” You explained, doubtful.

“Okay, let’s give this a go.” He replied, completely oblivious that the simple movements of his mouth as he spoke against your crotch were making your hole drip in wetness.

“Okay then!” You slowly lowered yourself on your elbows, his lips going on a slow side-to-side motion before he opened his mouth, his upper lip pressing against your entrance while his lower one met the sensitive nerve endings of your clit, making you moan just as his tip entered your mouth, your hand cupping his balls and sliding upwards, until you could grip him as comfortably as you could.

He released a heavy breath, the hot air meeting the raw skin of your slit. Just as his tongue made its way between your labia, you bobbed your head a couple times, making him moan loudly, which made you moan in return.

The whole situation turned into a game where the more you received, the more you gave.

As you started sucking him, creating a vacuum effect with your cheeks, his hands gripped your ass, his lips wrapping around your left labium, pumping it with his cheeks into his mouth, just past his teeth, that grazed it perfectly, alternating the softness of his lips and tongue with the hard edge of his teeth, making blood pool in the sensitive tissue. Meanwhile, on his lap, you were drooling all over him, pumping him with your fist as you started losing focus. “Guk.” You called.

He simply hummed and switched to the other side.

Yes, he was dedicated like that.

“Gu— Oh, yes, love, like that, baby, just like that.” You said as you felt his hands direct your hips in a grinding motion, your mouth returning between his legs out of sheer gratitude.

He moaned again, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure as you pushed his soft head to the back of your mouth, bobbing your head a few times before your hand started fondling his balls with your palm, twisting your wrist and using the pad of your thumb to tease the delicate spot between his balls and his anus.

He released your labium. “Candy. Fuck, baby, yeah, that a… I— I really like your finger there, baby.” He said, swallowing loudly before flicking the tip of his tongue repeatedly against your clit, spanking your ass brusquely before he gave a few strong pumps to your most sensitive spot.

You released his cock, letting it snap back to his belly and speaking against his shaft. “Please… Guk. Too good, love—” Your hips began to gyrate on him, his hands leading you, keeping your movements controlled so that he didn’t lose his grip between your legs. Holding his tongue rigid and still, he pushed the tip to the underside of your clit, dragging it up and exposing the most sensitive nerves, usually protected by the hood and way too sensitive for direct stimulation. Which is exactly why after two minutes your body stilled before starting to shake uncontrollably with effort, your whole universe silent, holding its breath before your lips opened in a high pitched, incoherent cry that announced your orgasm and predicted your reckless, ruthless movements on top of Jeongguk.

He took everything in.

Every small thing.

He kept moving his tongue even as it cramped, slapping your ass shamelessly, violently, spurring you into a wilder, more desperate pace as you — completely oblivious to your raw knees — rode him with a passion, pulling him into your mouth once more to quiet down your moans.

You felt your legs shake even more as his hips started pushing into your mouth, his long hums turning into short, deep groans and whimpers.

Just as you felt his balls tighten, you drew away, making him whine and arch his hips toward you.

“Please…” He called, his voice so, so miserable and pleading.

“You want your orgasm?” You asked, voice sultry.

You precisely knew what you wanted. And you had very clear plans on how to get it just right.

You looked right in front of you, at the small bathroom carpet laying just outside the shower, ready for you to dry your feet. Your escape route was bright and clear in front of your eyes.

“Does it feel nice?” You asked, un-straddling his face, acting as if you had each and every intention to bring him to the very edge and watch him dissolve.

“Please, Candy...” He cried, his hips undulating hypnotically.

“You wanna cum?” You cooed cutely.

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah… Please.”

You stopped. “Then come get me, bunny boy.” You grinned and stood, exiting the shower with a long step, shaking the water off your body as you rubbed your feet against the carpet a few times, before dashing for the door.

Alone, he opened his eyes and raised his head, looking around. “Candy?” He called again.

No sign.

He shook his head and stood up, his erection painful and uncomfortable as he closed the tap and walked out of the shower, drying his feet harshly as he switched off the bathroom lights and exited the room, looking around, spotting a trail of droplets on the floor.

He sneered and swore, staring at his hard on and clenching his jaw as he walked down the corridor with quick, long steps.

He found you as you tried to hide in the walk-in closet, almost sure you were unfollowed the moment you moved on all fours and tried to crawl under a lower shelf.

Jeongguk smirked, the scene disgustingly hilarious to him as he grabbed your hips and pulled you out of your hiding spot.

“That’s your plan?” He asked just as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

His fingers dug into your waist, grabbing you even harder as he dragged you away from the shelf, where you could hit your head.

“You’re ridiculous.” He said, putting you on your feet before he turned you around and hoisted you over his shoulder, spanking you unceremoniously. “Running on wobbly legs.” He spanked you again. “Leaving a pretty trail of water leading me right here.” Another spank. “I thought I had taught you better than this.” He said, offering you some mercy and biting your leg instead of smacking your ass.

Your world was very unstable as he began walking you to his bedroom. He threw you on the mattress and switched on the led light behind the headboard. Again your view became nothing but the sultriest black and red.

“You wanted to make me angry?” He asked, looking you in the eye as he climbed on top of you, spreading your legs and sitting in between before both his arms caged your head.

His chest, wet and toned, was right before your eyes, moving with the fury of a wild beast. He grabbed your chin and led your gaze upward, into his. “I said, you wanted to make me angry?” He repeated.

You nodded.

“You wanted to make me snap?” He asked again, grabbing your face, making your lips turn into a silly pout.

You nodded once more. “I am—”

“I’ll tell you what you are.” He said, getting off you, opening his drawer and taking out a towel and a plastic bottle, which he placed on the bedside table before he lifted your legs with one arm and laid the towel down with the other.

You stayed silent as he took his time.

“You are a ridiculous little fuckdoll.” He stated clearly, no lips, no stutter, no hesitation whatsoever. “You are my dumb little fuckdoll,” he went on opening the bottle and letting a heavy amount of lube draw a line from the base to the tip as he held his cock away from his belly with his thumb and forefinger running around the glans. He spread the slick liquid with his palm, sliding it up and down as he hissed. “You always need to act like a dumb brat to make me fuck you like a slut.” The moment he leaned over you and poured some lube on your cunt too, you knew you were in for a long night. He closed the lid of the bottle but kept it nearby, in case he needed more.

You were close to your period, and once you had mentioned that you had some issues getting wet because of hormones changing. He was glad you gave him that kind of notions too. He had so much to learn still.

“You want me to fuck you hard?” He asked, spreading the wetness between your legs.

You nodded wordlessly.

“Not so wordy anymore, are we?” He said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Please, Guk.” You whimpered.

“That’s my little slut. You need to be fucked, uh?” He asked again, making you beg for him.

“Jeongguk, please.” You called again, pleading for his cock inside you.

“She even says ‘please’. Aren’t you desperate?” He asked, rubbing his tip up and down your slit.

“Yes, I’m your desperate doll. I’m begging… Please—” You whimpered, opening your legs as far as they would go.

He tutted and snarled. “Oh no. You’re not my desperate doll. You’re my desperate fuckdoll.” He said with a smirk. “Say it.”

“I’m your desperate fuckdoll.” You repeated with a thin voice.

He nodded “That’s right,” he replied, rewarding you with the tip of his cock as he swore and let it stay inside you, helping you get used to it — still, he grit his teeth, his deltoids and trapezei bulging with the effort. His tattooed hand held his cock to your entrance, covered in slick, helping you as he fed you a small inch at a time.

The moment he looked up at you, you noticed the lack of harshness in his eyes. “Are you okay, Candy?” He asked just as you hissed out a ‘yes’, closing your eyes and biting your lower lip. “Can I move?” He asked again, at which you nodded energetically. He giggled. “I love you, bae.” He concluded, making you whisper a brief ‘love you’ in reply before his bad boy persona came back into play.

“So you want it hard, uh?” He asked, feeling his cock already pulsate inside you.

“Yes, hard and fast, Guk. Please. I’m your fuckdoll. Do me like your little cocksleeve, please.” You begged, whiny and weak.

“Like my cocksleeve?” He said, rolling his hips twice before he pulled out. His hand drew away from his sex and moved to your mouth, laying there gently. “Cocksleeves don’t make a sound.” He leaned towards your ear. “So you’d better stay quiet.”

Your eyes blew wide as you bit your lip and furrowed your brow, his cock sinking in your flesh so hard that the smash echoed through every single organ inside your body.

You laid there and admired him as he fucked himself inside you, biting his lower lip and releasing it slowly, letting it roll and snap forward, past his teeth. He switched his position, leaning on his hand rather than on his elbow, arching even further, spreading his legs wider, propping his weight on his knees for better leverage, using his thighs to push your legs further apart as his eyes closed, chilly droplets of water falling on your face and your chest as he hammered into you, the tendons of his neck growing taut, his veins pulsing and growing and showing even in the dim red light.

Your high was there, right there, right…

Jeongguk roared, loud and aggressive and so, so angry that he sat on his heels and gripped your hips, shoving you on his length on and on, his hips meeting your body with loud smacks as he released inside you.

“No, no no. No, please no, please—” you begged as you felt him slow down, “So… close…” You sobbed as he stopped entirely.

He placed you down on the mattress. “Oh, no...” He said with faux compassion. “Poor cocksleeve.” He said with a sadistic grin, his smirk almost demonic in the crimson light.

He caged you with his body, his arms bulky and delicious at each side of your head, several rivulets of water — or maybe sweat — sliding down his face and chest. “Cocksleeves don’t get to cum, do they?” He asked rhetorically.

You whimpered and tried to squeeze him with your inner muscles.

“Or maybe I could be generous… Offer you another round…” He wondered, kissing your lips. “Would you like that?” He asked.

“Please. So close,” you whispered, chasing his mouth with yours.

He stretched and grabbed his pillow from the headboard, sliding an arm under your hips and lifting them up, placing the pillow right under your ass. “Do you need more lube, Candy?” He checked in on you, at which you shook your head.

“I just need you inside.” You replied miserably.

He pouted and got in position, cupping your jaw and sliding his thumb in your mouth. “Take it,” he said, his right hand pushing his cock in, only barely softened. Once he sank in and gave two tentative rolls of his hips, any sort of softness disappeared.

“Like this?” He asked, his nose curled adorably and sexily at the same time as his face scrunched at the effort of slow, deep thrusts.

You purred and shook your head. “Faster, harder… please.” You moaned before he started going even slower.

He chuckled. “What do I get in exchange for it?”

You opened your eyes and bit into his arm delicately. “Please,” you pleaded again. “I’m—” A tear rolled down your face. “It’s too good, let me cum, please, I love you. I’m your fuckdoll, Guk, please let me— I’ll be so tight around you, I’ll milk your cock so good, let me cum.”

He loved when you grew wobbly-lipped and teary-eyed. He loved seeing how desperate you always were for him, how much you depended on him for your pleasure.

He collected one of your tears with his lips, “are you crying for my cock?” He asked, wicked as usual.

You shook your head yes. “More, I’m begging you, Jeongguk. I’m begging you. I’m…” In an act of pettiness, you turned completely quiet, trying to rebel against him and his oversized ego. Self-sufficiently, your hands went to your boobs, grabbing them, pinching your nipples, sometimes climbing up to your throat and pressing against it softly.

He swatted your hand away, bending his mouth to your breast, tugging and suckling at your nipple messily, just as his arm grabbed your right knee and hooked it at his elbow, pushing your leg up, the angle so irresistible that your high finally peeked from around the corner. Still you stayed silent — mouth open, but quiet.

“Candy?” He called, curious about your sudden lack of noise.

You furrowed your brow and looked at him.

He tutted at himself. “Hard and fast?” He asked again.

You didn’t react. He rolled his hips deeper, hitting the spot you loved so much. Another tear spilled from your eye, but you proudly kept your stoic approach.

He smirked and started going faster, now that he had found the spot.

A small hiccup escaped your mouth.

“There we go, Candy.” He said, finally sure of his decision as he started pounding into you with everything he had in himself. “Touch your boobs, Candy.” He suggested as he saw you grow closer and closer. “So messy for this cock, uh? Whose is the best cock, Candy?”

“Yours.” You sobbed, your hips beginning to stutter, trying to meet his thrusts but too weak and sensitive for that.

“That’s right. You love this cock, Candy, don’t you?” He asked again.

“Only yours. I do, yes, please, Guk. Jeong— Guk, please I—” Your body thrashed against his as your orgasm finally caught you and drew you under.

Jeongguk’s head dove for your breastbone, pressing there as he tried to resist your high, currently threatening to drag him with itself.

As your climax persevered, he pushed your leg over his shoulder, picking up the other one too, sinking so deep with the new angle, his mouth kissing your calf, the inner side of your knee. “Is it good enough, baby?” He asked as he saw your eyes slowly flutter open.

Fuck, his jaw line was impeccable with that angle. “It’s perfect, Guk.”

“Nice, can you take another round, love?” He asked and damn, that nickname made you say yes, yes, ten thousand times yes with no hesitation.

He pushed his thumb in your mouth, against your tongue.

“I need to touch you.” He said, watching as his finger emerged drenched from your lips, immediately bringing it to your clit.

“Can you lift your ass?” He asked right as you obeyed, the angle so deep that he slowed down specifically to make sure he could guarantee you one more orgasm before he achieved his own.

His thumb replicated the motion of his tongue earlier in the shower, teasing the tender underside of your clit just as your eyes closed—

Too intense. Too much, you thought as your breathing slowed down again, your whole body focused on your kegels.

“Give me another… Work your magic, cockfairy.” He teased as your lips parted, your eyes flashing open before slowly, messily crossing and sliding shut again, your body too confused and overwhelmed to give a verbal reaction.

Jeongguk kept going, so, so close, his hips digging deeper with tiny rolls focused on staying in, enjoying every tight squeeze you had to offer, your hands leaving your breast as you tried to slap his hand away from your clit while his teeth began teasing your calf on one side, his deep moans unstoppable even when he turned to the other side and actually nibbled on your leg, his hand persistent in his torture.

“No. Oh god! Please. No! Oh— I need to— Yeah, yes...” You hissed as Jeongguk finally crumbled against your body and delivered the last few thrusts, deep, slow, so destructive as your head tipped back, your final high too much for your body to handle.

He looked down, where your bodies joined and with a loud growl, he came apart and spilled inside you, his cock swelling intermittently for so long he almost worried at some point. But the softness of your breasts, pillowing his head, and the warmth of your breath fanning over his head, your legs sliding off his shoulders, to his waist while your arms circled his back. “I love you, Candy. So damn much. I’m so in love with you baby.” He repeated on and on, trying to make up for each slur, each degrading word and idea he had used against you.

“I love you, baby.” He repeated again. “I love every little thing of you.” He kissed your breast — even though he truly aimed at the heart beating underneath. “I don’t want just the sex. You get it now?” He asked, nuzzling his hair against your bosom.

You caressed his head fondly.

“I get it now, of course, love.” You reassured him.

“You’ll lean on me, right? You’ll count on me?” He asked insecure, afraid at how many things he still had to learn about adult, mature relationships.

“I’ll lean on you. We’ll lean on each other.” You said, kissing his forehead as he raised his head.

“We didn’t finish the shower…” He mused, pulling out of your entrance carefully, staring as his seed dripped out of you and down your thigh.

You looked at his mesmerised expression.

He bit his lip before releasing it with a snap. “Fuck, you’re dripping.” He said before looking up.

And you don’t know if it was for the hot sight of his tattooed arm flexing, for his mop of damp long curls, for his wide, taut pectorals, for his lips glistening in drool or the dark lust in his eyes as he saw the mixture of his seed and your wetness oozing from your cunt, but you decided you were far from having enough.

“Didn’t they teach you to clean after yourself?” You teased with a cocked eyebrow.

His eyes climbed all the way to your gaze, finding the silent permission he was looking for.

And he dove for your cunt like a starving wolf.

[ohmyasmodeus]

𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 ✧

as requested, a follow up to your first kisses with the demon brothers ! thank you so much, i’m glad to hear you enjoyed them sweetheart. i hope you enjoy these too ♡ baby luke gets a boop on the nose and a kiss on the cheek and nothing more !

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ 𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙤

✧   Your first kiss with Diavolo is a thousand things— the rush of excitement, the tenderness of understanding, the feeling of the wind running through your hair and all-consuming passion. Your first kiss with Diavolo makes you feel like you belong.

✧   Receiving attention from the ruler of hell himself felt completely unreal. Have you been that exceptional of a student? It constantly begs the question of what you had done to warrant such attention, not to mention the way Diavolo looks at you, striking eyes so full of want. Your meetings with him are often that of pure chance, or formal meetings to discuss your academic performance, but they are quick to become much less formal.

✧   The startling realisation that Diavolo cares for you more than he should for a mere student comes in the form of him consoling you; his amber eyes gaze at you so honestly, and he rests a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I know he can be frustrating, but Lucifer means well, ______. I know it’s been hard to adjust to life here, but you’ve been doing so good!” Diavolo laughs, boisterous as ever. It manages to make the corners of your lips tilt upwards in slight amusement. The pressure on your chests eases slightly with his presence and the arm he wraps around your shoulder. “Really! You manage to wrangle those seven brothers better than anyone has before! I’ll talk to him, get him to ease up on you a bit. How does that sound?”

“Thanks,” you give him a smile, resting your head on his shoulder. The Devildom sprawls out in front of you as your gaze wanders past the balcony railing, and you find yourself breathing in the fresh air, thinking about how the moment feels so perfect. Diavolo by your side, his kingdom below you… “But being around you makes me feel better already. I just wish you weren’t so busy.”

Diavolo grins like a kid in a candy store. “Oh? You want to spend even more time with me?”

“Duh.”

“Wow, I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before!” Diavolo gives you an affectionate squeeze with his arm. Breathlessly, you laugh, sure that if he had a tail it would be wagging hard. The way he looks at you is so full of life, so excited. You’re a breath of fresh air in the burdensome life of a prince. “I should be the one thanking you for letting me in, I love spending time with you too. Everyone walks on eggshells around me, but you… You’re special. Thank you.”

Maybe it’s the Devildom air getting to you, or maybe it’s the way Diavolo’s closeness is almost intoxicating, but the way he looks at you makes your heart race like nothing before. Instead if shying away, you find a little bit of boldness you never thought you had— the boldness to tiptoe and press your lips against his. Immediately, you feel his large hands on your waist, hoisting you up and making you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist to avoid a fall. He laughs when you pull away, his cheeks faintly flushed.

“You really are a special human! My favourite human!” Diavolo holds you close in delight and brings you into kiss after kiss. The moonlight illuminates the both of you as he sways you around on the balcony, and you know that this is exactly where you have always been meant to be.

♡ 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙣

✧   Your first kiss with Solomon feels like a long fought for victory.

✧   What a tease. Solomon likes teasing you way too much, especially when he suspects that you might have feelings for him. He isn’t mean per se— he just has fun giving you mixed signals and letting you try to decipher the mystery that he is. He really is fond of you though, and can’t help but be more genuine when you two are alone together.

✧   It’s all too easy to get distracted when you were alone with him too, not just by the smell of his cologne or the way his knowing gaze summoned butterflies in your tummy, but by how he was the best person to talk shit with.

“—and they act like they know everything about you! They’re all so smug too, invading my privacy just because they’re bored!” You huff as you lean your cheek into the palm of your hand, watching Solomon flip through your textbooks. He smiles idly as he listens to you chatter away. “I can’t imagine what it’s like having a pact with almost a hundred of them.”

Solomon just laughs as he closes a textbook and bops you on the head with it. “Maybe you’d have an idea if you did your school work like you told me you wanted my help with.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to. I don’t want to do anything right now.” The warmth of the sorcerer envelopes you as you scoot closer to him and lean your head on his shoulder. You hear him chuckle as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. All you want to do in this moment is enjoy being with him, instead of wasting your time and attention on schoolwork you honestly couldn’t care less about.

“Not even me?”

When you lift your head to make your snarky retort, you’re faced with Solomon smirking as if he’d  just issued you a challenge, lips too close to yours to be unintentional. And you’re never one to turn down a good challenge. Maybe it’s predictable of you, but you can’t care less as you chase his lips and firmly press yours against his.

Solomon’s smirk is mirrored on your lips when you pull away, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Asmo is a terrible influence on you. That was so fucking cheesy.”

♡ 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣

✧   First kisses, first loves, you have many firsts with Simeon. Your first kiss with him is nothing short of divine.

✧   The both of you connect on so many levels, more than you would’ve ever expected from someone from the Celestial Realm. It’s almost as if Simeon just knows you and has for centuries, and the spark between you is immeasurable in its brightness and intensity. You feel it like it’s the first time every time Simeon touches your arm gently, or guides your hand to draw a rune correctly, or tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

✧   “What are you going to do when you get home?” Simeon asks, taking off his gloves. You lie on his bed lazily and glance up from your D.D.D. to look at him, which he smiles at. (It had taken a surprisingly long time to be invited into his dorm room, and you guess that it likely has to do with the implications of spending time alone, completely unsupervised, nobody but each other… Or maybe that was just you talking.)

“Ew, are you already thinking about getting rid of me?” You laugh, letting your legs sway in the air. “Maybe I’ll pray to God and ask him to make you my guardian angel. Then you’ll never be able to get away from me!”

Simeon laughs, chime-like in the comfortable silence of his room. “I wouldn’t dream of it, ______. I was simply asking.” He shrugs off his cloak and hangs it up properly, before rolling onto the bed beside you and leaning his chin on your shoulder. “It’s good to know that I’ll be missed.”

You don’t like thinking about it. The dread fills you at the simple mention of leaving, of not having Simeon close. Will you even get the chance to tell him how you feel about him?

“Yeah… I guess I just…” An ache clutches at your heart, making your hands tremble slightly. “I don’t want to be without you. I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Oh, my sweet little lamb, you’ll always have me... My heart belongs to you.” Simeon sighs gently. You feel his soft breath ghost across your skin, before he uses his gentle fingers to lift your chin to face him. His gentle smile calms your heart instantly, and you lean in without a second thought. Simeon does too, closing his eyes as he feels your soft lips against his. It feels like an eternity with him— an endless moment that you could stay in forever. “I’m never letting you go.”

♡ 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙤��

✧   Your first kiss with Barbatos feels like finally reaching home after a long journey.

✧   Every aspect of your relationship with Barbatos seems to come as a surprise. It seems simply impossible to guess the next moves he would make, and though you didn’t expect yourself to gain an interest like this in any of the demons, Barbatos leaves you wondering about him deep into the night. It’s frustrating at times.

✧   One of the only times you get to spend time with Barbatos is late at night, once his duties for the day are finished. You watch him finish organising stacks of paperwork on Diavolo’s desk and cross your arms.

“You know you aren’t meant to be here.” Barbatos doesn’t look up to acknowledge you, but you hear the smile in his voice.

“You’ll get me out of trouble anyway,” you say confidently. “Are you still busy?”

“Maybe you should’ve texted me first, then maybe you would know.”

His sharp sense of humour has always made you laugh, especially when used on the more dense people around you, but this time it makes you sigh. All you wanted to do was spend some time with him after being apart for a while, but the way he responded makes you feel a little foolish for it. “Alright. Have fun doing whatever.”

That’s what you hate about him. You hate how opaque he always is, how you can never know if he wants to spend time with you or if he’s ditching you on purpose, and how you can never tell if he feels the way that you do. Maybe it’s best to just go back and lick your wounds.

You turn away, but before you can begin walking, you feel gentle hands on your hips and an almost teasing chuckle. Barbatos kisses your head and quietly says, “You’re cute when you get mad. It’s clear that I haven’t been spending enough time with you, and I’m sorry, ______. Let me make it up to you?”

“Bring me to Hell’s Kitchen or I’ll still be mad.”

“Anything for you.” Barbatos’ voice is a soft mutter as he uses his hands to gently turn you to face him. The kiss he gives you comes as both a surprise and something expected, and it makes you softly wrap your arms around the back of his neck, smiling as you let your eyes close. Finally being able to kiss him feels like breathing a sigh of relief. This is home.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[ficsnroses]

Pregnancy Headcanons - John Wick x Reader

❧ may be read as a follow up to these.

warnings : pregnancy. smut. morning sickness mention. mega fluff.

words : 2.3k. requested by a lovely anon!

notes : remember ages ago when I said I’d whip these up? I did em! I couldn’t fit all my ideas. lemme know if you’d like to see another one of these with a similar concept. feedback appreciated as always! 

I love headcanons. so easy. so carefree. so much to say. don’t forget that you can request headcanons, too! not just full fics or drabbles.

A few weeks ago, John and you found out you were pregnant. Initially, it’s been slightly frightening to know that in a mere nine months or so, John and you will have a baby, a little human, who’s entire world you two will be, and they will be yours in return.

You’re more frightened, being the one carrying your child. You have your fears of not being good enough, or not knowing how to be the utmost perfect mother you can be to your baby.

John, however, is ecstatic. He’s frightened as well; he’s never done this before. Yet, he keeps it under wraps for you. For you, John always puts on a brave face and holds your hand each step of the way.

He goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and well taken care of. So far, your belly isn’t even showing; but there is life inside. John has always treated you as a queen, but it has intensified tenfold after he got you pregnant.

Not a dish in the house is allowed to be washed by you, not a cloth may be touched. John wants to you relax and take it easy, focus on yourself. He truly believes that as long as you’re happy and healthy, the baby will be too.

John has always been an absolute sweetheart; nonetheless, since you’ve gotten pregnant, he’s only gotten lovelier. Many times, you fear you’re dreaming, and may wake up soon. John Wick is quite literally;

too good to be true.

Each morning, he’ll nuzzle into your chest, smiling a goofy grin.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispers into your hair, peppering soft kisses to your temples and forehead. “And to you too, peanut.” He smiles, heavy hand rested to your growing tummy. John never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you, and your baby. Despite them not even being here yet. He knows that this pregnancy will take a toll on you; he’d wish for more than anything that he could carry the pain instead of you, which is why he showers you with love. He’d never want you to forget how important you are; how much you mean. You’re his entire world and this means more to him than you can imagine.

Morning sickness has been tough. Often, you’ll wake up feeling nauseous, however, you feel secure knowing you have a team player on your side. Occasionally, in the middle of the night when you’re up at 3:00am feeling awful, John helps you out of bed, holding your hair up for you and rubbing small, soothing circles to your back in the washroom.

“I’m going to make you ginger tea, alright babe?” He quietly speaks, leaving a speckled kiss to your shoulder as you freshen up. You feel awful keeping him up this late, John always needs rest due to his gruesome job.

Foot rubs and massages get a lot more common as your tummy grows. John doesn’t mind, he enjoys the intimacy and being close to you.

Speaking of intimacy…

You continue having sex for as long as you can, because you both know that down the road, as your hormones continue to fluctuate and your belly grows, it may not be something you’ll be able to do often.

John and you do, and always have had sex often for as long as you’ve been together. It helps John ease down, calm his nerves and relieve tension. You don’t mind making love to him either, of course. You feel lucky to feel him so close, and to be the only women who feels him that way.

“Close your eyes, Squish,” John whispers a chuckle, a delicate kiss placed to your bare belly, just where your baby rests. His heavier hands gently peel off the fabric of your bottoms, full lips trailing lower, soft kisses pecked to your inner thighs as he nears your heat. “Daddy’s about to do some real nasty things to mommy.”

You’re not sure if its just your hormones, or delicate emotions as of late. Nonetheless, having sex with John has felt…closer since you got pregnant. It truly feels like you’re making the sweetest of love each and every time. He kisses you so sweet, works you so slow, so intimately, so tenderly, it brings tears to your eyes.

Having him inside feels unreal, divine. He only picks up pace nearing climax, his expertise, skill and unmatchable affection never failing to spill you over the edge so well.

As your belly grows bigger and bigger a few months in, going places, and moving is becoming increasingly tough. Grocery trips have become progressively more tiresome; car rides gradually more uncomfortable. John tries his hardest to help, and understands if you snap at him a little too quick or accidentally pick a fight over something minor.

“Can you turn the music down? Please?” You interrupt a serene drive home from the market, voice coaxed with irritation, laced aggravation tinted across all tones. John’s hand rests to your thigh as he drives, his other placed to the thin steering wheel. You’d been complaining about discomfort the entire morning; he felt awful knowing you were in any sort of pain.

“Sorry.” He sighs, hand shifting from your thigh to crank the stereo of his beloved Mustang 69’ down. Passing traffic winds roar outside, the New York buildings passing in towering lengths. John’s palm immedietly rests back to your thigh; smooth, gentle strokes ran across the fabric clad to your lap. His eyes stay focused to the road, yet his hand stays touching you, letting you know he’s there.

That he’ll always be there, no matter how frustrated you get, how intolerable your nagging becomes.

He loves you, and he loves his baby. He’s waited far too long to have this; normalcy, something his, something his own; something created out of love, familiarity. Something he’d lacked for far too long.

“Ugh.” You exhale, after a moment of stretched silence, hand coming up to rub your weary eyes. “I’m being awful, aren’t I?” You whisper, saddened eyes locking to your husband’s street bound orbs. He turns momentarily to lock eyes, a gentle smile your way.

“No, sweetheart.” He assures, grip on your thigh tightening. You groan, rebutting. “No, John. I am. I’m sorry.” You sigh, reaching both your hands down to your lap to engulf his, holding his hand in a soft grip. You rub the top of his palm, relaxing, playing with his sturdier fingers. “I love you. I really do.” Sincerely, your eyes stay focused to his well defined features, the dark beard that rides his cheek.

And to the sound of your guilty voice, John chuckles, securing your hand in his, before brining it up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I know.”

John has come to all your ultrasound appointments; he wouldn’t miss them for the world. He holds your hand the entire time, signature goofy smile daubed to his smoky features.

The first ultrasound was incredibly emotional, you shed a couple of tears. John and you stare at the screen, a pea sized dot resting in the darkened frame. John’s hand holds yours so tight, so warm, you’d felt as if you could feel him within you. Like he was this significant, big part of you that you would cherish forever. Seeing him smile that day will be a sight you’ll never forget; a mural you’ll never surrender.

Through out your time together, over the timeline of your love, you’ve only seen John this way a handful of times. This happiness was different; held something sole, matchless. This was pure happiness, where nothing else tinted the depths of his thoughts. No insecurities, no doubts, no ghosts of his past. Apart from the day you said yes to marrying him, and the day of your wedding, you don’t remember John ever being this unconditionally, purely, happy.

You both sit on the couch later that night, John’s arms holding you close as your head lays to his broad chest, staring, smiling at the picture of your dream; the one that would conquer your entire hearts when they’d come.

John keeps a copy of the ultrasound picture in his wallet. He takes a moment to look at it, to remember what he has any time he needs a pick me up throughout the day.

John takes amazing care of you, your needs always before his. He monitors your eating and drinking, to make sure you and the baby are healthy. He gives you your supplements; you often forget the times throughout the day you need to take them.

Speaking of food…

Midnight cravings have become a usual for you. Normally, you suffice for waddling down to the kitchen, sure not to disturb your snoozing husband.

Gently removing his arm from your waist, you always smile a gentle, loving glaze his way. John sleeping is a sight you’ve come to adore over the years.

John at peace; is a sight you’ve come to adore. He deserves rest, he deserves peace.

Although, its tough not to wake John. More often than not, he’ll find you in the kitchen in the AM dark, smiling a cheeky grin as you devour left over dinner, or a questionable choice of midnight snack.

He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms snoozily around your mid, hands placed to your tummy. With a gentle kiss to the back of your head and his warm chest pressed to your back, his sleep thick, honey seared voice rasps a tender baritone in your neck.

“Hungry?” He’ll chuckle, quiet and warm. You only nod, lacing your hand to his that rests on your belly.

Of course, there have been rare nights where you crave something that isn’t in the fridge. John never turns you down, however. No matter how tired, how sleepy he is, he ventures to your local 24-hour market, or gas station in search of whatever you’d yearned.

“Should I come with you?” You bite your lip, pulling the comforter of your shared bed higher up your chest as you sit up. “I’m sorry I’m making you go out.” You frown, insecure. “But I just can’t stop thinking about how I just need a candy bar right now.”

John’s brown leather jacket shrugs onto his shoulders, and his lips smile your way, picking his wallet up off the night stand.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be quick.” He whispers, a kiss to your forehead before he’s out the door, blinking away sleep dense orbs.

For you, he’d wake a thousand nights. A million slumbers may waste away.

Slowly, you build the nursery for your baby. John works away, painting once crisp white walls into something more pastel, something that would welcome your child with joyful colour.

John has definitely become more talkative over the pregnancy.

He never misses out on a chance to kiss your belly, or talk to them.

“I’ll be back soon.” He announces, car keys armed in his sturdy fingers. With a kiss to your lips, he smiles. “I love you, don’t forget it.”

“Hurry back please.” You frown, a light whine coated to your tone. John only nods, slightly dropping to his knee in front of you, a quick, brief kiss placed to your tummy. “Keep mommy company, squish.” He tells your belly, a quiet, barely audible ‘daddy loves you’ Fled into the air, before he’s up, his hold on your hand let go as you walk him to the door, wishing him a wonderful day with a final kiss to his cheek.

You shop for cribs, toys, decorations all together. John looks incredibly handsome building the crib, painting the walls, asking exactly where you wanted everything to be placed. You watch him from your rocking chair in the corner, a hand to your belly as you talk to John the entire time, about anything, and everything.

John is a wonderful listener. Together, you two often talk about your future. A future where you’ll move away somewhere out of town,

Somewhere closer to the water, down the road. Somewhere where John’s ghastly pasts wont haunt him no more; somewhere you’ll grow old together with a white picket fence, and a story.

Your story, that you’ll tell you grandkids someday, when you’re old and gray, slightly slower; but still, hopelessly in love.

John adores talking to the baby. On secluded, rainy evenings, or when the sun sets out the mauve horizon and the trees bid goodnight to cotton clouds, John and you lounge on the couch, a thick, heavy novel equipped in John’s palm as he reads to you, and your tummy.

With his head resting on your lap, you stroke his lengthy coffee mane, fully engaged, lost in his mélange voice; smoky and rich, beautifully saccharine. Your thumbs coax his tired temples; gently scratching his stubble ridden cheek when you please. Every now and then, John’s glowing eyes peer up, glossing over your features.

He looks lovely like this, at ease, immersed in art.

To you, he is the loveliest of art. He’s a story, he’s a piece of Neverland. He’s your love story, and it’s one,

for the ages;

your love is one for the ages.

Sometimes, he’ll fall asleep this way, head resting in your lap as you stroke his hair. Him and the baby rest together, so close to you.

This was what it meant to have true, wholesome, pure, purpose. To have security, to have something truly, only, yours.

They were yours.

Pregnancy would be tough. It would be a journey, things would change, you would change. But you weren’t scared, for a single moment.

Because you knew, that you had your dream, your mountain of a man beside you, holding your hand,

Each step,

Of the way.

And you knew, you knew well. That the day your baby comes, they will have the most amazing, wonderful father who loves them, and their mommy to the ends of the world, and back.

You’d felt love before, you’d had everything before.

But with this, with what you’ve made, with John; it falls incomparable.

He’s the love that made all the others,

Irrelevant.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Black Wedding [Chapter Two] Silver Tongue [Albert Wesker]

Aria didn't want to go home once she got into her car a little after seven this morning. She was too scared to be alone and far too tired to stay awake, cowering beneath her blankets in an empty home as she worried about being mauled to death in her sleep.

Even though none of the murders had occurred indoors, and despite Albert assuring her that she'd be fine nestled away in their home under lock and key, she was still too scared to go home. Aria didn't want to let her guard down, not when the murders occurred close to home. That sort of ignorance horrified her the most.

How could anyone sleep soundly knowing a person in the same community was dead? Murdered, no less.

Aria frowned and gripped the steering wheel.

Poor Mr. Webster.

Her heart went out to her.

His death shook her. Dr. Hersh called it at a quarter till five this morning, though he passed on before the EMTs arrived at his home on Wallace Street. His carotid artery had a puncture; his spine broken, causing him to bleed out in minutes during the alleged onslaught.

His wife passed years ago from leukemia, so Aria had to leave a voice message with his son, who lived in Washington, according to his address. In a soothing voice too unreal for a woman who just witnessed a horrific murder, Aria informed him to contact the Hospital Director once he heard it. Still, she doubted that Mr. Webster's son would get the message until much later, given the time zone.

An EMT that brought him in reported that a neighbor from across the street saw Mr. Webster get attacked by a black dog near the edge of the forest; several large chunks were missing from his upper body, unlike any canine attack Aria had ever heard of before. What was he doing near the woods in the middle of the night? And what drove the animal to attack him?

Perhaps the beast was starving. Why else would it eat him?

Aria shivered in fear.

She tore from the parking lot in her Audi and turned onto Mission Street, heading towards Central down to Ennerdale, where the police department sat; the prominent structure before 1969 was an art museum bought out by the RPD.

Aria transferred to Raccoon General in 1992 after its construction, coming from Stone Ville, a town northwest of the city, but she knew its history, despite how expansive Raccoon had grown during her time from home; the city continued to grow even now thanks to Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, and the company's investments.

Parking her car, she strode from the underground garage to the department's entrance, slowing her rushed pace once she entered the reception area to the right of the main hall.

She noticed a woman with dark hair that she had never seen before occupying the reception desk. As she approached, the woman glanced up from her computer in boredom.

“What can I help you with, ma'am?”

Aria cleared her throat. “I came to see Albert Wesker.”

The woman typed something into her computer and hummed, then tossed a laminated pass onto the counter; Aria hooked it onto the pocket of her scrub top.

“The S.T.A.R.S. office is up the stairs at the far end of the hall,” she explained in a dead tone. “Be sure to sign in before you go.”

Aria did as she instructed, then stormed down the hall, turning the corner near the entrance to the west office. As she neared the stairs, she came across Barry Burton at the vending machine, recognizing his hideous red vest.

“Isn't it too early for a break?”

Barry turned in shock, staring at her. Once he recognized who Aira was, he narrowed his eyes.

“I'm surprised that Wesker let you off the leash today,” he teased.

Aria snorted and rolled her eyes. Barry was uneasy about her marriage to Albert, mainly because she married him a year after meeting him. She hadn't even had a honeymoon yet, but that didn't matter; she loved Albert.

He was quiet and somewhat arrogant when prompted, but he never treated Aria like she was inferior to him. Albert kept her together.

Barry didn't understand. Not to mention he wanted to set her up with Chris – his good friend – despite the eleven-year age gap.

“Behave,” Aria teased. “I don't want to tell Kathy that you've been eating junk food when you're not supposed to.”

Barry grunted. “I said nothing.”

She thought so. Her older sister was a force to be reckoned with, and he knew it.

“What are you doing here, Aria?”

She frowned, recalling the events of this morning.

“I want to see Albert is all,” she explained.

Barry sighed, bending with a grunt to pick his candy bar up from the exit slot.

“You might want to wait,” he suggested. “Irons is up there bitching to him about something. He sent the entire unit out.”

Aria puckered a brow. “Is everything alright?”

It was none of her business, but she wondered if the meeting with Irons had anything to do with the murder on Wallace Street. But why involve the S.T.A.R.S. unit? The murders were not a product of antiterrorism or urban crime and were more suited towards the cases the Patrol Division officers oversaw.

Perhaps she was overthinking it.

“As far as I know,” Barry answered back.

Aria hoped so. She said her farewells, deciding to wait near the S.T.A.R.S office, but as she began to climb the stairs, she had an idea and peeked over the railing to call out to Barry down below.

“Do you think Kathy and the girls would like to visit the zoo Friday?”

Barry hummed. “I don't see why not. I'll ask them tonight.”

Aria thanked him and continued up the stairs to the second floor. She rested on the bench next to the office door and waited for Irons to leave.

Once he appeared, storming out into the hall as he uttered beneath his breath Aria stood and greeted him.

“It's good to see you again,” she mentioned with a fake smile.

Irons grinned, looking her over. “The pleasure is mine. How are things over at the hospital?”

“Fine,” she answered back.

He reached forward and gently touched her shoulder. “Ethan called me already. I heard about the man who died this morning, but I don't want you to fret, Aria. I'll take care of it.”

“I appreciate that, sir. Thank you,” she stated.

Albert must have known as well.

Easing over, Aria grabbed the knob and opened the office door.

“Try and get some sleep, Aria. You look tired,” Irons mentioned.

She nodded and slid inside, closing the door behind her.

His kindness was innocent, but at times it freaked her out.

Aria sighed and strolled further into the room. Albert had his own office immediately to the left after coming into the primary office; she entered once she knocked on the door.

He puckered a brow.

“Aria, what are you doing here?”

He seemed to be in an irritated mood.

“I came to see you,” she answered back. “But I can leave if it's not a good time.”

Aria was referring to what Barry had said; about Irons grilling him.

Albert motioned her in; she looked desperate.

Aria shut the door behind her and strutted towards the desk, coming around the side of it.

“I guess you heard,” she mentioned. “Mr. Webster – the widower on Wallace Street – was brought in this morning.”

Albert hummed. “Brad mentioned that it was an animal attack.”

“Another one near our street,” Aria confirmed.

He puckered a brow, watching as she sat on the desktop. Her tired eyes stared down at him; Albert understood.

“Are you too scared to go home alone?”

She frowned. “I hate how you said that.”

Like she could do nothing without him.

Aria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had a terrible headache brewing.

“That wasn't fair,” she mentioned. “I'm just tired; forgive me.”

Albert opened his desk drawer and tossed her a bottle of Diphenhydramine.

“These will put me in a coma,” Aria joked.

He hummed. “Whatever makes you sleep easier.”

“You being home will make me sleep,” she countered.

That reminded her.

“Are you working this weekend?”

Albert nodded and stood up. “Something came up.”

Of course, something came up.

“But I'm home Sunday,” he added. “And we can catch up.”

Aria grinned. At least she had one day alone with him.

“Please tell me what you want for Sunday, and I'll cook for you,” she offered.

Albert grinned and motioned towards his seat. “I'll think of something. In the meantime, rest your eyes. I'll wake you before I leave.”

Her face heated up. “Thank you.”

How did he take her mind from one place to the next? It amazed her.

Aria hopped from the desk and embraced him. Her cheek rested against his chest.

“I'd be a mess without you,” she said with a laugh.

Albert snorted and buried his fingers into her coarse blond hair, aware that she wasn't joking.

Aria was a feeble pet, after all.

[sasorikigai]

“ things would be so much easier if we were a bit more honest with each other. “ ( twunk Ryou @ modern Hanzo )

love confession starters || @sonxflight || accepting

💥 || Grief has cracked open his ribcage, stuck its hands in his chest and is still tearing out all that it could grasp. It is sitting on his heavy legs, to keep him anchored and rooted still, hands bleeding crimson red, slick, shredding his lungs, clawing his stomach, squeezing his heart to bursting. Most often, being the Commander of Tactical Retrieval Force becomes not only a honored title, but his raison d'être so he does not dissipate into nothing and hurtle himself in the throes of maddening imprisonment of depression. The walls are all around him; so close, and Hanzo Hasashi is a pebble lost in the middle of a barrel of boulders. This place, this universe he takes his residence in is so small, and yet, he is forced to see everything in his delirious ruminations. Claustrophobic, suffocating, his sanity getting more lost every day he plunges himself into the inescapable vacuum of void. 

Even in the most excruciating pain and disquietude of his heart and soul, for so long, there had been no sound, no word that could rid them from his vessel. This must be the price I pay for love, Hanzo bitterly muses with such nostalgic yearning writhing his heart and soul that he has to grimace. Something is missing now. I need to get it out, but the accumulated grief empties my chest and fills with further burden; sharp and dense and so unbearably heavy and its face is permeated with impuissant sorrow and melancholy. This is the price I pay for love; for grief is unconditional, immortal love, unfinished and unrealized. 

The Commander and his Second-in-Command find themselves strapped in the same police cruiser, with him in the driver’s seat and the latter in the passenger’s. And Hanzo finds himself in a displaced reality where time grows smaller, while his heart expands. A sky hidden inside, breaking colors of dawn and dusk, feeling every single day like a rising tide lapping with vehement force, as a metaphorical earthquake shakes his loose-psychological and mental wounds, rendering Hanzo Hasashi’s even rarest happiest moments naught. He must pull closer to the reality than those inconclusive, incorporeal dreams he continues to conjure in his psyche, by stretching dimensions, by letting go. 

“Indeed, but what do I do when I am too wounded at times, in the place where I would know love? The proverbial sun of my love now feels more like a dagger in my chest; too bright, too sharp, cracking me open as the reflections burn through my eye,” but he could bare in his skinless shape, all the crude terror of his faults and vices wide open. For violent nature of his life had permeated and painted stains and blemishes, leaving bloodstains in the churning palms of tightened fists, grinding apart the brittle bones in adversaries’ shaky necks. Lest his own frayed vocal cords wither away as decrepit screams drown his lungs in muck, the hazy sunlight directly challenging his view seems to taunt him from on high, far above the murky waters of inevitable nightfall, as swallowing rain clouds enshroud the quiet highway. 

“My love won’t be all fucking cotton candy, strawberries and cream, and tartlets. It may be bitter and sour like vinegar, like that unripe fruit or like that pasta sauce that you don’t usually like. My love is bittersweet; it’s every goddamn fucking thing and it is also nothing, but you will get every unapologetic, authentic honesty of me that isn’t shrouded in deception, fabricated nonsense and shit.” It is up to Ryou Sakai to either savor its true essence and taste of him or let it pass. How Hanzo Hasashi’s eyes beg to receive, still somewhat weary from delivering his no-bullshit and direct declaration of his love. How his sensuous smile, which used to seldom mask the scarring that taints his austere, gruff countenance, as the ebullient scintillation of his dark brown eyes linger towards his subject, before having to coax his concentration back on the road.  💥 ||

[allfortheaesthetic]

so now i’m going to post my reactions while watching jatp for the first time. enjoy (keep in mind i know a lot that happens because i got so spoiled because the internet)

1x01

“hollywood 1995” AHHHHHHHHHHHH i’m gonna cry

“sunset curve showcase sold out” MY SONS

“one two three” ALEX

i’m in public. don’t cry.

BOBBY HOLDING UP THE GUITAR

LUKES NOD AND THEN REGGIE BOUNCING OVER TO SHARE THE MIKE

THEYRE SO CUTE

BOBBY KICKING OFF THE DRUM STAND THINGY

“we ain’t searching for tomorrow” “tomoRROW”

THE GUITAR SWING

bobby!!!!!!!

you gotta appreciate them giving it their all for sound check

REGGIE’S WINK

THE HANDSHAKE/FIST BUMP THING

luke is an adorable puppy

so’s alex

NOT STREET DOGS

bobby “terrible flirting activated”

i mean he really tried the vegetarian

i relate tho because i also cannot flirt

“size beautiful” all y’all suck at flirting.

tho she got a free shirt so good for her.

i’m taking way too long to watch it because i keep pausing it to freak out. stupid second hand embarrassment

luke you did bobby dirty...i’d do it too.

yall i may be stupid but i would never eat hotdogs out of a CAR

“it’ll help with the rust” EXCUSE ME. NOPE. GO BACK INSIDE WITH BOBBY. BECOME VEGETARIAN

“that’s a new flavor” “chill, man, street dogs haven’t killed us yet” wow. yall stupid stupid.

okay. i know it’s sad. and i’m really upset about it. but the cut from the eating to the ambulance made me laugh so hard.

I HATE HOW THEYRE ALLOWED TO WEAR HATS IN SCHOOL IN EVERY KIDS SHOW BECAUSE ITS A LIE. A L I E

“hey underachiever” “hey disappointment” wow. that’s accurate best-friend representation. also damn flashbacks to my parents.

FLYNN IS NOW MY WIFE “demon”

ight so carrie may be... bitchy. but damn she’s got style.

matter of fact so does julie. and flynn. damn they’re all just better than me huh.

i love how the teacher says “take your time” like i know how it talks about how she said it was julie’s last chance but her being kind about it makes my anxiety ridden self wish my teachers were like that.

i love ray.

also the old instruments. i’m dying on the hill that bobby gave the house to rose and asked her to keep them.

THE CD OOOOOOH

poor julie was just vibing and then they show up 😂😂 also i love her slippers.

the crucifix!!

luke “that’s definitely not my six string” “can you give me a second? just one second!”

“maybes she’s a witch” god i love reggie

alex saying he’s got a softer touch and then loudly saying “why are you in our studio” these himbos

“it was gonna change our lives” “i’m pretty sure it did” i love these boys

“i’ve been crying for 25 years! how is that possible?!” “well you’re a very emotional person” “i am nOt”

“i-im luke by the way and this is” “reggie. i’m reggie. hey” “alex how’s it going” “ba-da” i love these boys so much it’s unreal.

they just hopped through that front door so cheerily.

luke really just wanting to play music where no one can see them 😂😂

she’s so good. i stg it’s not fair. i wish i had that talent.

1x02

i love flynn an unreal amount yall. and julie. and their friendship #doubletrouble

their clothes are still there?????? bobby???

reggie and luke crying because of ray

THEY REMEMBERED BOBBY

“guess that vegetarian lucked out” EXCUSE ME. MY MANS HAD THREE OF HIS BEST FRIENDS DIE AND HE “lucked out”

honestly i love the casual way it handles alex being gay. like it’s not a huge thing. he’s just gay and that’s how it deserves to be.

ALEX DOING THE BEAT ON HIS BODY OH MY GOD.

i’m gonna cry this is so cute.

the way luke ruined that sandwich for her by bringing up the hotdogs

damn. say what you will but dirty candy gets me hyped.

1x03

luke hurt about reggie saying julie should be the lead singers is the embodiment of this emoji 🥺

WILLIE

“i’m actually i think you’re joking her band” FLYNN IS MY QUEEN

1x04

the high school musical vibes tho

“one of us isn’t there. we had a blowout in 2031. my moneys in alex. he’s just so sensitive”

THEYRE IN THE MUSEUM. THEY HELD HANDS.

oh no. oh no. oh nonononono. they’re about to find out about bobby and the songs. i’ve got a who lot of feelings about this but i’m not about to go into a whole rant about that so.

willieeeeeeeeee

1x05

okay. calebs a bad guy i know. but the other side of hollywood is a BOP

and willie was looking nice!

but i feel bad for julie

and honestly is getting back at bobby worth all this?

1x06

honestly if i was julie and i had to partner up with my crush i would simply pass away. that would be it.

honestly reggie. fixing an amp in the rain???

their little sorry song is so cute.

i’m gonna cry. the way he’s sitting on that counter so sad and his parents setting out a cake. ahhhhhh 😭😭

okay i love tia victoria

1x07

reggie. i love you. your hearts in the right place but i don’t think this is going to end well.

i love ray

and i love reggie and ray’s, one sided, relationship

“and don’t you look shArp” the way he says sharp. i can’t y’all. 😂😂

poor nick getting called luke

luke’s hair oh my god!!!!

willie and alex! i’m gonna cry!

“girls am i right?” “no❤️”

willie! 😫 my poor son

1x08

yall. watching them get ready to go is depressing. like reggie saying “i’m gonna miss them” but oh my god unsaid emily

poor julie. her life’s going good and then BAM caleb. she even rejected nick?!?!

tho that artwork is good

and the poor guys.

1x09

yall it says panic at the disco! no exclamation point tho.

“i’d do anything for you” WHEN I TELL YOU I DROPPED MY PHONE I MEAN IT

“only love baby”

fucking caleb.

julie looks so nice!!!!

bobby!!!!!!!

his look that he gives carrie when she says, “been here before”

bobby looks so sad! those are his boys!!!

you know bobby probably think “wtf is up with luke’s hair”

julies gonna make me cry i stg

AHHHHH IT HURTS EVEN THO I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS

damn poor nick.

tho caleb be looking stylish and steampunky

aaaaaand now i’m gonna put the soundtrack on repeat. deuces yall ✌🏼

[randomwordprompts]

If It's Magic | Chapter 11

Summary: Let's meet some new characters!

Taglist: @wakandan-flowerz @bakarilennox @yaachtynoboat711 @wakandas-vibranium @brwnsugababe @storibambino @thadelightfulone @reaperdeldrunk

A/N: I'm trying to get back into writing regularly, so feedback is always great.

The sounds of a big band playing old standards was the background music to the idle chatter that floated around the Manhattan ballroom. With various doctors, lawyers, and city officials scattered throughout, one might think that the Lector children stood out like a sore thumb. But, thanks to Hannibal's published studies being known globally they didn't get a second thought for being there in his place. All of that aside, the siblings were on a mission. Francois met up with their information source on the inside, who took them to meet the mark in question.

"Dr. Black, there are some people that would like to meet you."

Pausing the conversation with his wife, he turned to face the group with a smile that was so practiced it was believable if you didn't know any better. Jacob Black was a handsome man that had clearly aged well, his salt and pepper hair styled to perfection.

Dr., this is Francois, Jonathan, and Amira Lector. They’re here on the behalf of their father, Dr. Hannibal Lector?”

“Ah yes, Dr. Lector! I’ve read many of his studies and am a bit of a fan of his work. It’s nice to meet you three. I trust you’re enjoying yourselves?”

Francois spoke to the doctor of how happy they were to be attending in their father’s stead and the usual spiel of small talk that came about at events such as these. As everyone was talking and getting to know each other a bit more they were joined by another person. A young man who looked to be about the same age as Jonathan, slim and blonde with Jacob’s jawline and Mrs. Black’s eyes approached. He smiled at the small group before speaking.

“Hello mother, father. Who are your new friends?”

Before Jacob could introduce them Amira spoke up, her hand extended towards him with a warm smile.

“I’m Amira Lector and these are my siblings, Francois and Jonathan. We’re here on behalf of our father, Dr. Hannibal Lector. You must be Joseph, your parents were just talking about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” he replied as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

She smirked coyly before going, “Anything bad you can prove wrong...or right.”

Jacob and his wife exchanged a knowing look behind their son’s back, recognizing the blatant flirting he was doing. Before Joseph could go any further Jacob decided to speak once more.

“Son, this is Amira’s first time here. Why don’t you show her around?”

“I’d be more than happy to if that’s what the lady would like.”

Amira stepped closer with their hands still connected.

“The lady would love to. Let’s start with a dance?”

Joseph’s brows rose at her forwardness but happily led her to the dance floor as the band began to play Frank Sinatra’s “Witchcraft”. He pulled her into his arms with ease and a smile that has probably charmed the panties off many of the daughters in that very room, but Amira found herself amused at how open his aura was. She knew he’d be easy to get info from once she got him to drop his “just a nice rich boy” act. With that in mind, she decided to take the direct approach.

“So, I think we’re far enough for your parents not to hear us. I go to the New School and heard there was this guy selling goods that looks a lot like you. What’s up with that?”

Joseph almost stumbled while they danced but caught himself before smiling at her forwardness.

“What’s up with what exactly, doll face? I have friends that go there, but I need to know what kind of goods you think I’m peddling.”

Amira leaned in so that their lips almost touched, her front pressed tightly against his before whispering, “I heard you have access to the best coke, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t give for a taste.”

Joseph audibly swallowed as her scent invaded his nose in the most delicious way, that combined with the softness of her body and voice casting a bit of a spell over him. His body immediately reacted and she noticed, subtly stroking her thigh along his crotch as they danced. Before he lost his mind she pulled away a bit, an innocent smile on her red lips as they continued to dance.

“When you put it that way, I think I just might have something for you. Meet me in the coat check in about 10 minutes and I’ll have something sweet just for you, beautiful.”

As the song ended they parted ways and she returned to her siblings to catch them up. She found them chatting up Dr. Black and some of his colleagues, the thought of how proud Hannibal would be to see his children rubbing elbows with these prestigious people brought a genuine smile to her face as she approached.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt you all,” she started before turning to her siblings, “I have some writing to finish for my psych class so I’m gonna grab a drink, freshen up a bit, and my siblings can escort me back to my dorm?”

Francois and Jonathan understood what she meant and let her know they’d have the car brought around. Amira left the group to meet up with Joseph while her siblings continued to converse for a bit longer.

Once at the door of the coat check room she gave two soft knocks to the door and was quickly greeted by the young man, who invited her in with that same charming smile.

"You know, I wouldn't have expected such a beauty to be into this stuff. But how much are you looking to buy?"

Amira shrugged, "We all have our vices, Mr. Black. But I think an eighth is enough to start. How much?"

"Only 100 for an eighth, but I've got other things as well. You ever tried heroin with the coke?"

"You mean speedballing? Heard of it, never tried it."

Joseph grinned with a devilish glint in his eyes, clearly having either tried it or seen its effects before.

"It's pretty damn good from what I've been told. Since I like you, I'll give you some heroin on top for an extra 50 just so you can try it out."

Amira hummed thoughtfully before reaching into her clutch and pulling out 200 dollars without batting an eye, Joseph holding a bag he kept stashed in the room in case he got any high-end "customers". He pulled out the pre-packaged and measured drugs, handing them to her as she handed him the money. She placed the drugs into her purse and thanked him before leaving the coat check room, looking around to make sure no one saw her. A vibration from her phone alerted her to a call from Jonathan.

“Hey, you good?”

“Yeah, I just got the candy. You brought the car around?”

“Yeah, me and Fran are in the car now. We’ll see you in a few.”

“Alright, on my way.”

With that, she slipped down the stairs towards the lobby as Joseph came out of the room behind her, heading back towards the party. Once Amira reached the lobby, she gave the doorman a smile and another to the driver that opened the door of the town car in which her siblings awaited her. As she got comfy and settled, the driver began to take them to their next destination.

“So what did you get?” Francois asked, lighting up a pipe filled with weed.

Amira pulled the drugs from her clutch and handed them to Jonathan, who inspected the packaging carefully.

“Coke and heroin? What the fuck did you do to get him to give you both?”

“He offered it for an extra 50 bucks and wanted me to try a speedball.”

Francois sat up, “What is a damn speedball?”

“It’s when you inject coke and heroin together. Very dangerous since they do the opposite shit to the body, but the high is said to be unreal.”

Jonathan shook his head after hearing her explain it, “Well, either way, he put what's gotta be his burner number on here so I think that part is for you, short stack.”

Amira pulled out her phone and put the number into it, saving it while reading some texts she missed while at the party. During this time they ended up back at the dorms as the car came to a stop. Jonathan sat back and slipped the drugs into his pocket before speaking again.

“Okay, so we’re gonna take these to the lab for some testing to see how pure it really is. We’ll get back to you in like a day or two with the results, you just see what other info you can get from Joey in the meantime.”

Amira nodded, “For sure, I’ll keep y’all updated if I learn anything. I’m sure he’ll be happy to get a call from me, given that he was imagining what was under my dress the whole night.”

“Of course he did, I made the dress.” Francois snorted.

After exchanging a bit more information and some goodnights, the three Lectors parted ways. Amira got out of the car and walked into her building, a smile spreading across her face as she spotted a familiar figure waiting for her in the lobby.

“I see you got my text,” she said.

“Of course, and looking at you now I’m so glad that I did. You look good enough to eat, Mira.”

Xavier walked up to her and looped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers in a slow kiss. Amira slipped her arms over his shoulders and returned the kiss eagerly, pressing herself even tighter against him. When they finally broke the kiss she giggled seeing traces of her lipstick on his lips.

“You look pretty edible yourself, but I’m kinda tired tonight. Let’s go up to my dorm and just chill tonight?”

“I’d love that, mon petit. Want me to order some food from Night Owls while you change?”

Amira grinned, “You know me too well. Make sure you order some drinks too.”

“I know you well enough to know not to order food without drinks. Now let’s go so you can change before I try to wake your fine ass up.”

She snorted out a laugh before turning to lead him towards the elevator, looking forward to spending some time with the towering demon.

[linmanwe11]

P-P-P-P-PRIZEO

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Words: 1,731 words (Part 3 will PROBABLY be the longest)

Warnings: Swearing, WAY TOO MUCH FLIRTING, Lin’s eyes and his lips (they’re so damn nice and pretty)

Summary: It’s been about a week since you found out that you won the Prizeo contest, and you and Lin have kept in contact. It’s finally time for your date, and you couldn’t be more excited yet anxious for the day to unfold.

A/N: It’s slow burn, y’all... Just wait for part 3. I hope you’re enjoying this so far!

-

Part Two: THE DATE

Nearly a week after it was announced that you were the winner of the Prizeo contest, the time had finally come for you to meet Lin. To say you were nervous was an understatement- you were TERRIFIED. Since that day, you and Lin had texted every day, just getting to know one another. Of course, you saved most of the “important topics” for your date, but you let him know the bare minimum about you, and he did the same.

Since it was a Saturday Matinee, you woke up earlier than usual to start getting ready, and also because you couldn’t wait to finally see Lin in person. After seeing him once as Usnavi and then so many years of seeing his success through a screen, you could hardly wait any longer. You picked out the perfect outfit; a beautiful black dress with a slit that rode up to your thigh, black heels, and matching jewelry. As you sat in your bathroom while you did your hair and makeup, you felt your phone vibrate against the counter. Unlocking it, you were all too familiar with who was texting you.

From: Lin I legit cannot wait to see you today. I’ve never been this excited about meeting a prizeo contest winner before… Seriously!

To: Lin I can’t wait either. Talking to you this past week has been unreal, like a dream come true. I still can’t believe I won! Even if I didn’t win, I’m still so happy that I was able to help and contribute to such a great cause.

From: Lin I’m really glad to hear that, [Y/N]. You’re probably getting ready right now, so I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see you in a bit, love.

You smiled to yourself, the anticipation growing inside. As you finished getting ready, he called you and said he was on his way, and you laughed as he told you how cool the limo was, [Y/N], this limo is so DOPE. Checking yourself one last time in the mirror, you grabbed your small purse and tried your best to calm yourself down. Finally, you heard the buzzer go off followed by Lin’s voice letting you know it was him. You buzzed him up then patiently waited by the door before you heard him knock.


When you opened it, you saw his jaw drop as he looked you over and you blushed as you saw how he was looking at you. 

“Wow...” 

He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on, and he felt his heart light up and his stomach turned upside down while butterflies flew all throughout it, he was in love from the beginning.

For you, just about the same thing was happening. Sure, you had seen photos, videos, and read interviews and listened to podcasts, but you weren’t prepared for how you would feel when you met him in real life. He was… breathtaking to say the very least. His short hair fixed neatly, the suit fitting him perfectly in all the right places, and his eyes, oh goodness, his eyes. They were dark, but you felt as if you could see the entire universe by just looking through his eyes. You looked at him, your eyes studying him carefully when he looked in your eyes, and you felt it. Something was definitely there between you two, you both knew it, and you just smiled at each other before he held out his hand for you to take, his fingers lacing themselves with yours.

“You look beautiful, [Y/N]. Even more beautiful than I imagined.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome, Lin-Manuel. Way more handsome than I’ve seen in any picture or video of you. I can’t believe this is happening! I’m so excited!”

“Well then, let’s get going then, shall we?”

You smiled at him as he led you down to the limo which was waiting for the two of you outside your apartment building. He opened the door for you and you felt goosebumps as he placed his hand on the small of your back, following you into the vehicle.

“Such a gentleman! How sweet.”

“I try, [Y/N], I try.”

He said before he smiled at you as you sat next to one another, the two of you riding in a comfortable silence as you drove down the streets of New York. You had such a deep love and passion for the city that never sleeps, even in the afternoon glow, you admired the lights of the city with nothing but love.

Finally, you arrived at the wondrous Richard Rodgers Theater, your eyes lighting up as the ‘Hamilton’ sign came into view.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy SHIT! Lin! I can’t believe I’m here! I’m about to see HAMILTON with YOU!”

“C’mon, love, let’s show the world the beautiful Prizeo winner.”

Lin stepped out first and you followed, being greeted by flashing cameras and people yelling to get Lin’s attention. He walked you to the stage door, stopping for a few pictures, and then you walked into the theater. You got to meet the entire cast, each and every one of them congratulating you on winning and telling you how beautiful you were before Lin escorted you to your seats, it felt like you were in a dream.

As the show started, you looked at the stage, the actors, and the dancers with such wonder and amazement, you hardly noticed that Lin was doing the same, except he was looking at you instead of the stage. In the middle of the show, you felt Lin’s hand find a resting place on your thigh. It was respectful, of course, but the feeling still gave you goosebumps and made you shiver. You looked over at him, and he looked at you, eyes meeting with nothing but love, and you placed your hand on top of his, leaving it in its place on your thigh.

You were bawling by the end, and you were on your feet in a split second. Its’ reputation proceeded itself, it was single-handedly the most beautiful piece of art you had ever seen. Wiping away your tears, you and Lin made your way out of the theater, back to the limo, and towards the restaurant.

“Wow, Lin, this restaurant is REALLY fancy.” You said to him as you sat down.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful! I love it.”

“So, what’d you think of Hamilton?”

“Oh my goodness, it was… amazing isn’t even a good enough way to describe it. It was everything than I hoped it would be. Hell, it was even BETTER than what I hoped it would be, I loved it so much. You really did create a piece of art.”

“Thank you, [Y/N]. I’m so happy to hear you enjoyed it. So, as first dates usually go, tell me about yourself.”

“Well, I was born here in New York and grew up in Queens. When I graduated from college at NYU, I got a job as a high school Advanced English teacher, but I’ve had a few writing jobs on the side. That’s really my main goal, to be a writer, but as you know, it’s hard, but I love teaching and wouldn’t mind making an actual career out of it.”

“That’s amazing, I’d love to read some of your work if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all! And what about you?”


“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you’re willing to tell me. I’m all ears.”

And just like that, the two of you went on for what seemed like hours, taking small breaks to eat. You had never connected with someone so quickly, and you were pretty surprised considering the fact that this man was possibly the most famous person in his industry, he was so unbelievably humble.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re really beautiful.” He said it with so much sincerity, you knew your face was candy apple red from blushing. He chuckled then kept the conversation going.

As the date went on, the two of you began scooting closer to one another, and before you knew it, Lin was holding your hand, his thumb stroking your smooth skin, eyes listening intently, and never leaving your face as you spoke. You loved how expressive and animated he was when he talked- his hands almost never staying still and his eyes lighting up and telling a million stories within themselves. He was honestly a dream, you still couldn’t quite believe you were here with him.

As your bodies drew closer together, you turned your head to look at him and he did the same. You just stared at each other, eyes drowning in his before you saw him glance down at your lips then back up to meet your eyes as you did the same to his, hoping you could get your mind elsewhere but in that exact moment, he licked then bit his bottom lip. You exhaled heavily, trying to slow your heartbeat and the arousal you were suddenly feeling. Lin was feeling the exact same thing, and he couldn’t deny his own arousal, then he smiled when he saw you begin to blush once again.

“You’re really cute when you blush.”

“Oh, so I’m just cute?”

“Well, I’d say something else Miss [L/N], but I don’t want to scare you off…” He said, barely above a whisper, his face getting closer to yours, lips only centimeters apart now.

“I don’t scare easily, Lin-Manuel. I’m not that kind of woman.”

“No, you’re not… You’re more than beautiful and this dress… Wow. You make it look so damn good, so sexy.”

You felt the wetness that had suddenly gathered between your legs accumulate as you swallowed hard, your lips now brushing against his. Lin looked into your eyes once more before letting his gaze flick back down to your lips, he leaned his head to the side, and then-

CRASH.

You both jumped apart from one another as two waiters bumped into one another causing one of them to drop a tray full of drinks. He smiled at you, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you had been holding in.

“[Y/N], I know this technically isn’t included with the prize, but I don’t really want to end this date. Do you maybe want to take this somewhere else? We can walk around the city if you’d like? I’d love to see some of your favorite spots, and I’d love to show you mine.”

“I’d love that, Lin-Manuel.”

“Great, let’s go.”

Lin paid the bill, grabbed your hand, then led you out into the night.

-

Part One: THE CONTEST

Part Three: THE PRIZE

[1917-boys]

Coming Home (Will Schofield Fluff)

Requested: Yes / No

Word count: 1,819

Author’s Note: This is all over the place, I apologize

The sun’s rays warmed your back as you kneeled before the garden in the front of your home. The sky was a pale shade of blue, and the temperature was warm, but not hot. Your flowers were beginning to bloom and the nature around your home was beautiful. The only downside was that your husband, Will, wasn’t here to bask in the beauty alongside you.

When Will had returned from town, hand clutching a draft card, you were struck with worry. The townspeople had been calling this war the Great War, and you had heard why. The loss of life was ghastly, and now your husband was about to be thrown into the fray.

He had walked briskly up the path to your home, reaching for your hand. After that, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before wrapping you up in his embrace.

You would learn soon enough that his embrace was what you missed the most.

That night at dinner, he had asked your daughters, “You’ve heard about the war at school?” They were both so young, then. Merely 7 and 5, they had no reason for knowing the horrors of the war. They both had nodded, though, unaware that their father was soon to break the unfortunate news to them.

When they heard their father was leaving, countless tears were shed. Not only from your daughters, but from you and Will as well. Nobody wanted to be separated, but the country required it.

All you could do was hope he would come back.

Three years had passed, and the spring of 1918 was in full bloom. You continued to work in the garden, pulling weeds and watering the new blossoms.

Finishing up in the garden, you began the short walk into town to take your daughters home after school. The often-travelled dirt road to town was empty, a sight that used to be unusual, but since the start of the war, had become normal. With all the young men off to fight, everything seemed to be different.

‘Would things ever get back to normal?’ You asked yourself, approaching the town.

The schoolhouse was a beautiful building, built from solid red brick and oak. As the children began to file out the door, you caught sight of your younger daughter. “Mama!” She cried happily, running from the doorway into your arms. You knelt down to greet her, hugging her. “Is Daddy coming home?” She asks excitedly, still in your arms.

You pick your head up to meet her gaze, smiling sadly. “I don’t know yet, darling,” you began, “a lot of things are still uncertain.” Her brows furrowing, she stepped back to look up at you. “My teacher says that the Army is starting to send people home. Her brother is coming home tomorrow, and she said that we need to ask and see if anyone we know is coming home,” she said, happiness slowly draining from her face at your blank expression.

“I didn’t hear that, darling,” you reply. Upset, your daughter sighs before turning to face the schoolhouse entrance, awaiting her older sister’s exit.

A few minutes pass, and your eldest daughter walks out of the schoolhouse. As her eyes fall on you, she walks up to you before smiling and hugging you. “We need to go to the post office, right away!” She says, in place of her usual greeting.

You couldn’t help but give in to them. The girls had been through so much these past years without their father, but they were always strong and carried through.

As the three of you walk to the post office, hand in hand, the young paper delivery boy exits the building. He rushes over to you, gladness painted on his youthful face.

“He’s coming home, Mrs. Schofield!” The boy cries. Spirits flying, you are eager to read the letter stating your husband was coming home. The young boy continues, “I can’t wait to see my father again!” As the realization dawns on you that it isn’t Will that’s coming home, you are once again filled with worry and sorrow.

“That’s fantastic!” You say to the boy, smiling happily for him in spite of yourself.

You only wished that it was you and the girls celebrating like that.

As the paper boy skipped away happily, you turn to your daughters, squeezing their hands. “He’ll come back, I know it,” you murmur to them quietly. Nodding eagerly in response, they pull you along to the front door of the post office.

As you enter, the familiar aroma of paper and ink envelopes you. Inhaling slowly, you relish in the comforting scent before approaching the front desk.

“Good afternoon, Marge. Is there any mail for us?” You inquire to the lady working. Smiling back at you, Marge reaches down to pick up a short stack of mail.

“This one’s from Army Command,” Marge tells you, excitement bubbling within her for you. As she hands the stack over to you, Marge turns to your daughters, waving at them before reaching into a drawer and retrieving a toffee for each of them.

You grin at Marge, thanking her for the candy and the mail. She waves a friendly goodbye to the three of you before returning to her work. Exiting the post office, your daughters look up at you, hope practically seeping through their faces.

“We’ll read it when we get home,” you told them, although you were just as eager as them to read the letter. “How about we race home, then?” Your younger daughter suggests, a smirk playing on her lips. Both you and your other daughter look at her before glancing at each other, each of you grinning.

“Okay. On your mark, get set, go!” You exclaim. The three of you rush home, kicking up dirt as you run. The spring breeze is warm against your face and the grass and flowers you run past are only a blur of color. ‘It’s beautiful,’ you think.

The run to your home was relatively short, but when you arrived back you were all panting. Out of breath, you enter the house and place the mail on the dining room table. Your daughters begin to giggle, their contagious laughter ringing throughout the house. You laugh as well, basking in the time you get to spend with them.

“Come on, then! Let’s read it!” Your younger daughter urges you, grabbing the letter from the table and seating herself. Her sister nods enthusiastically, anticipation clawing at her.

You sit down at the table, and reach for the letter from your daughter’s hand. Opening the letter, your eyes scanned the paper. Reaching the end, you gasp loudly and happily, your hand reaching up to cover your mouth in shock.

A large smile breaks out on your face, a breathless laugh leaving your mouth. “He’s coming home,” you murmured to yourself, looking up to meet the expectant gazes of your daughters. It seemed unreal, but you held in your hand the proof that it was indeed reality.

“He’s coming home,” you repeated, a bit louder. The idea seemed so foreign to you that you couldn’t contain the excitement but also confusion that came with the fantastic news that yes, your husband was alive and was going to come home.

Your daughters pick up on your anxious, yet excited, response and quickly sit up to read the letter themselves. Whooping with joy, they leap from their seats with wild smiles on their faces. “Daddy’s coming home!” They cried together.

After all, this was the moment they had been waiting for, just as much as you.

Two weeks pass, and you walk to the train station, hand in hand with your daughters. Approaching the station, you’re giddy with anticipation. Your daughters’ hands shake in your own, unbelievably eager to see their father.

A scarlet steam engine pulls into the station, and young men gleefully jump from the train onto the platform, rushing to hug their loved ones. Your eyes scan the crowd hopefully, praying for a glimpse of Will’s sandy blond hair. Seeing nothing, you glance down at your daughters, smiling softly. “I’m sure he’s on the next one,” you say to them, hoping that the words were true.

‘He can’t be dead, right?’ You asked yourself.

As the station platform slowly clears, your eyes drift to the sky. The soft, gentle breeze of the morning has picked up its pace. The sky darkens and you smell a whiff of rain.

Leading your daughters to an empty bench, you take a seat between them, breathing in the fresh air. Flowers were planted along edge of the platform, and you could smell their sweet aroma from your seat. You close your eyes, waiting for the next train.

The train that would hopefully carry your husband.

‘Hopefully,’ you thought.

But there’s only one way to find out.

Your daughters stand up to play in the small grass field near the platform as you move to observe the flowers. You kneel to get a good smell of a beautiful daisy, and that’s when you hear it.

It’s faint . . . but it’s a train whistle nonetheless.

“Girls,” you call out to them. Ceasing their game, they rush to you and cling to each leg. The platform had begun to fill up once again, as the next wave of families yearned to see their soldiers return home.

Another train, this time black and gray in color, pulls into the station and soldiers begin to exit the train. You search the crowd until you see a head of ruffled, sandy blond hair. Smiling, you stand up taller to try and get a glimpse of the man’s face. Your excitement rubs off on your daughters, who begin to smile as well.

The sandy blond-haired man approaches your group slowly, unbeknownst to you. As the man steps into your line of sight, you let out a strangled gasp.

Standing before you is Will. He looks tired and hungry and unkempt, but he’s still Will.

You rush forward, throwing your arms around him. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Will buries his head in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. Your daughters hurry forward, each hugging their father around the waist. Will pulls away, his arms still around your waist before he kisses your forehead.

The kiss is gentle, but holds years worth of passion and love. “I missed you all, so much,” Will says, his voice rough with emotion. Kneeling down to face his daughters, he hugs them both before standing again to face you.

“It was horrible, love. Honestly,” he begins, “But knowing that you were waiting here patiently for me to come home means everything to me. If fighting in France is what keeps you safe, know that I’d do it a thousand times over if it means getting to come home and see your bright smile again.”

[bleufrost]

Crawl Home to Her || A Ben Hanscom Series

Chapter Four: Not a Stranger

a/n: aaand we're back! let's see if I can get y'all back into this like im getting myself back into writing it (:

thank you all for being patient with me, if youre still here reading I love you so much.

masterlist

summary

rating: m for graphic depictions of violence, gore, and adult themes

The few feet between Ali and Ben feel like miles as her feet push her forward. Ali was refusing to bother with words, knowing exactly who this man was and how desperately she had waited for him all these years. His arms part instinctively, holding her to his chest as if it were the safest place in the universe and he was determined to protect her. Although years were spent apart, the feeling of being strangers was lost on both Ali and Ben; instead being replaced by the knowledge that they had not only grown up together, but had also been a saving grace for each other. 

Ali’s breathing becomes unsteady as she feels Ben’s hand slide up to her neck. She isn’t afraid of him by any means, but the realization that somewhere in her life she forgot about him makes her uneasy; guilty in more ways than one. Tears spring to her eyes and a panic she has not felt since childhood comes upon her suddenly, causing Ben to pull back and look her over quickly in search of the cause of her distress. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? I know I look different, but I swear I’m not a stranger.” Ben laughs nervously, trying to lighten the mood while also allowing her a moment to breathe. His hands never leave her, part of him unwilling in the event that she might slip away from him once more. 

“I tried so hard for so long to remember you, but I never could. Ben, I forgot about you and I know that sounds awful but I swear I never meant to. You were always there, right at the edge of my mind, but I could never reach you. I’m so sorry.” Her voice shakes as she speaks and Ben has the overpowering need to hold her again and reassure her that everything was perfectly okay. So, that’s exactly what he does.

His thumbs brush across her cheeks, wiping away the tears that slipped past her eyes. “It’s not your fault, Ali. I’m sure Mike will explain everything, but from what I heard you aren’t the only one who’s had some missing pieces from their memory. It’s okay, we can catch up and everything will feel like we never spent a second apart.” Her breathing is still heavy, but a small smile finds its way upon her lips. He reciprocates and there is nothing he wants more than to kiss her in that moment, but he knows that he can't. She just admitted that she had forgotten everything for the longest time, throwing something like that on her now when she was just starting to get her life back was unfair and selfish. He had waited years, a little longer would be no problem at all.

“You ready to go in?” His voice was calm and patient, letting her know that she was allowed to take as much time as she needs. She was ready now though, something deep within her telling her that she could do anything now that the piece she was missing had been found. The pair begin to walk closer to the entrance, taking comfort in the close proximity of their bodies. 

Standing right in front of the door was someone that they both had missed severely; even if Ali just now was remembering that she did. Ben reaches down, giving a reassuring squeeze to her hand and smiling toward the girl that had been his first official crush. “Is there a password or something?” Ali laughs beside him, Ben really was proving himself to be the master of throwing back phrases at people. It just further solidified what Ali already knew: they all meant something extraordinary to each other. 

Recognition does not dawn on Beverly Marsh’s face as quickly as it did Ali’s. She turns and stares for a moment. “I’m sorry?” The wrapper crinkles in Ali’s hand as she tears it off and slowly pops the candy into her mouth. Beverly watches her and slowly, her face begins to change with a sense of recollection. 

“New Kid?” His voice is hopeful as he says the nickname aloud for the first time in forever. The redhead’s eyes scan over Ali and Ben a little longer as the gears work in her head. “Ali? Ben?” Ali smiles excitedly and Ben lets out a relieved puff of air. While she nods her head, smile still beaming back at Beverly, Ben lifts his arm gently in an attempt to welcome Beverly into a hug. Bev comes forward, wrapping her arms around the both of them quickly and laughing. 

“Oh my god!” The three stand there for a while, hugging in a way that feels familiar to each of them. Ali never enjoyed being touched by other people, she shied away from hugs and general contact because it always felt so wrong to her. This though, felt right. She felt comfortable for the first time in as far back as her still-hazy memory could go. 

“it's been so long.” When Ben says this, it sounds less like a sad regret and more like a happy reassurance. It had been so long, but the wait was over at last. 

"You guys look great!" Seperating, the trio find the source of the voice in the form of who could only be Richie Tozier. He looks down at himself and scoffs. “What the fuck happened to me?” 

Once more, Ali finds herself closing the distance between herself and her old friend. Images flash before her eyes, showing her of a time when her and Richie would get into arguments, sometimes heated, that would always end in rolling eyes and smiles. He had kept her on her toes as a kid, but sometimes things like that only prove to strengthen the bond you have with someone. 

Part of Ali was expecting to see someone else walk up with Richie; she doesn’t know why but the distinct recollection of his lovestruck face brings itself to the forefront of her mind and she is almost disappointed to find him alone. 

“Hey Trashmouth!” They all laugh while Ali and Richie hug. The nickname definitely came easy to remember. “Are you fucking serious? I escape this shit for years just to come back and immediately get fucking ridiculed. That’s unreal, Ugly Duckling.” Ali pulls back from the hug and stares at him with shock on her face. Now that was a name she hadn’t heard in forever. 

Ben almost intervenes, afraid that maybe Ali won’t receive the banter as such. It takes a moment, but the shock slowly slides into amusement. She shoves his shoulder and hugs him again; she really had missed them all.

The rest of them greet each other with warm smiles, Beverly and Ben also fall victim to Richie’s incessant need to say whatever’s on his mind, and soon it is time to go in. 

With shaky hands, Ali follows the group to the entrance of the brightly lit restaurant. She falls behind a bit, trying to hide behind the rest of them as Richie continues to lighten the mood with his voice. It takes only a second for Ben to turn and notice how quiet she has gotten, and in that same second he halts his walking, waits for her to catch up, and falls into step alongside her. 

Their shoulders bump as they walk and Ali finds the feeling of warmth radiating from his open palm to be immensely more inviting than the illuminated building. His knuckles graze hers gently, as though he is calling her toward him in a way. She takes the invitation as soon as he is willing to give it, slowly sliding her hand into his larger one.

Ben doesn’t look down when he feels her soft hand find his own. He simply takes it and wraps his fingers in hers, driving away the cold of her palm with the comforting heat of his body. The nervous trembling doesn’t stop, but it does subside and that is more than Ben could ever ask for. 

Finally looking down, Ben catches the twinkling lights reflecting in Ali’s eyes. Smiling felt so foreign to him until today, and he feels his eyes come alight for what very well may be the thousandth time since arriving. Her own mouth curves up into the smallest of smiles as she notices him staring, and Ben can’t help but think it is the most beautiful sight he has ever seen.

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a/n: as always, i greatly appreciate every read, like, reblog, and comment so much! feedback is always happily welcome and i hope you guys liked this chapter.

this is a side blog so i cant respond to comments (although i love to read them!!) but if yall ever wanna talk just shoot me an ask or message me! I love talking to yall <3

coming up...this meeting of the losers club has officially begun.

[loreweaver-universe]

SPOILERY HOMESTUCK EPILOGUE THOUGHTS

Well.

That was interesting.

A pair of cliffhangers, each terminating in a trip beyond Earth C.  Two converging stories.  Two converging states of narrative.

Seems we aren’t done after all.

I’ve seen a lot of people upset by the epilogues.  Truth be told, reading them was a deeply uncomfortable experience for me as well--though that was likely on purpose.  Most specifically, people are upset by characters acting out of character, their unpleasant fates, and the way the story has upended a bittersweet but mostly positive ending.

So let’s talk about the concept of the Ultimate Self.

This seems another game construct, to be honest, especially since not only is it always referred to with Capital Letters, it’s not actually about being your ultimate self.  It involves absorbing the memories and personalities and decisions of every alternate version of yourself to have ever existed, whereas lowercase “ultimate self” is a matter of self-actualization, of becoming the person you want to be.  In this manner, Dirk has become his Ultimate Self, a relentless, sinister puppetmaster concerned with altering the narrative to suit how he thinks it needs to go, and not his ultimate self, which would have been a supportive man who let his friends exist independent of his whims, as he expressed a desire to be in Homestuck proper.

What this means is that Dirk isn’t just high on omnipotence--he’s drugged out of his skull as a result of absorbing AR, Doc Scratch, and Lord English into his mind.

Dirk’s characterization feels derailed, definitely.  Jane’s as well, though that actually seems to have been at least in part the result of Dirk’s influence, unless I miss my guess.

But it doesn’t seem like it’s his ultimate fate.

Okay, maybe it’s this Dirk’s ultimate fate, but not every Dirk’s ultimate fate--and bear with me on this one, because if I’m wrong about this I’m gonna look real fuckin’ stupid.

You remember a few years back, when the Sherlock fandom was in denial about how bad the show had gotten?  How they were in such fervent denial that they concocted a whole conspiracy about how the terrible episodes in Season Four were just setup for a Not Terrible episode that would retroactively make everything make sense and be good again?  It was kind of sad, really.  But you know what the difference is between Sherlock and Homestuck?

Sherlock isn’t a story about stories, and Homestuck’s epilogues haven’t closed out their own story.

Hussie’s gone on record as using the meat-or-candy dichotomy as an analogy for indulging too much in one side or the other of a story’s contents.  Things go wrong if you oversaturate--too much candy leaves you empty and unfulfilled, too much meat leaves you sick and depressed.  You have to find a balance between the extremes, and in both of these epilogues, that balance is disturbed.

Meat!John dies a terrible, dramatic death at the behest of his omnipotent , controlling narrator.  Candy!John lives an empty, unfulfilling, unreal life, where the people around him are content in their irrelevance--and his omnipotent narrator prides themselves on detachment, on not interfering.  In fact, Muse!Calliope only directly takes action against non-Dirk entities a couple of times, most notably when somebody directly offends her:

But...you know who else was an omnipotent narrator?  Who took action, who involved himself, who interfered, but in ways almost entirely silly and harmless so as not to derail his characters’ agency?  Who was present, and cared (even though he was fuckin’ weird about it), as opposed to the ultimate detached narrator, but never took direct control of anyone, as opposed to the ultimate controlling narrator?

This weirdo.

There aren’t two omnipotent narrators in this story.  There are three.  (Four, actually, but since we last saw Caliborn being messily devoured by Muse!Calliope, I’m gonna leave him out of this for now.)  And you know what else is interesting?

There aren’t only two possibilities when you flip a coin.  It’s exceedingly rare, but sometimes a coin comes up neither heads nor tails.

Sometimes a coin lands on its edge.

Balanced between two possibilities, balanced between one extreme and the other.

People are getting all upset about Meat and Candy, trying to decide which is the “true” epilogue, but I think we might be missing the point.  I think neither is the true epilogue.  I think we’re going to enter a third continuity to some degree, and I think that’s going to be the key to stopping Dirk’s madness, to breaking down Muse!Calliope’s apathy.  At the very least, we’re about to enter a more balanced epilogue, even if it’s still just these two continuities--but I think Hussie’s point is that neither of these is a healthy state for fiction to be in, and that everything’s going to come together in the end.

Meat or Candy, huh...

That coin’s still in the air, people.  I’m putting my money on the impossible option three.

also dave remains the funniest fucker in existence and it is so cool to have explicitly canon bisexual representation fuck yeah I love him