#and of asking embarrassingly personal questions loudly in public

[tacosaysroar]

My grandmother (Betty) turned NINETY-NINE years old today

[1kook]

hulu & woohoo

summary: But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings: slight feelings of insecurity, smut; fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, handjobs, unprotected, riding, slight praise kink misc: if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read wc: 6.3k

[ this is a sequel to netflix & chill !! ]

started off silly then I was like 😳what if we sprinkled in a dilemma™️😳 anyway here’s the kook i imagined for this fic <3

Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook does in fact have his own paid subscription to Netflix. He doesn’t ride on his family account anymore, nor does he swindle his friends into sharing their passwords ‘just once.’ Just like everything else about his mature persona, Jungkook is adamant on paying those ten and something dollars for the streaming platform.

However, his fall into capitalism doesn’t end there.

Among other things, Jungkook also pays for Hulu, Amazon Prime, Disney Plus, HBO, as well as a couple indie stuff you’ve never heard of in all your years. He’s a bigger nerd than you originally thought, with an incessant need to watch every single piece of media available.

Frankly, you don’t see the need to own so many different streaming services, especially not when pirating websites exist and you could so easily watch Jersey Shore for free, if you’re not too concerned with infecting your laptop with every software virus known to humankind. Luckily for you, your app developer boo with his—admittedly tiny—knowledge in computers can iron out those issues for you.

It’s moments like these, Jungkook fiddling with the internal system settings of your laptop to the best of his abilities, that you find yourself grateful for having met Jungkook, and even if it’s been a little over two months now and he still hasn’t popped the question (“Will you be my girlfriend?”), you’d still kiss him silly.

He sighs for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes as he stares at the same system warning on the screen. “Babe, just pay the six bucks for Hulu and you can watch all the Jersey Shore episodes you want,” he says, leaning back in his chair as he stares at you from across the dining table.

You scoff, almost scandalized by his suggestion. “You think I have the resources to hand over six bucks every month?” You abandon your homework in front of you, the one you had so dutifully been working on before your computer was flooded with about a thousand Hot Moms in YOUR Area! notifications before abruptly shutting down. “Buddy, that's lunch at Starbucks.”

Jungkook clicks around a few more times, round glasses sliding down his nose which he will occasionally scrunch up to save from falling. “First of all, lunch at Starbucks sounds sad,” he retorts, and you kick his shin from beneath the table. He doesn’t even flinch, the damn muscle bunny, instead leveling you with an unimpressed glare. “Second of all, I told you I’d give you my passwords but you said—“

“No!” You exclaim.

Call it what you want, but that rose-tinted image of Jungkook being a saint in this world, too sweet and naive for his own good, never faded. Your brain saw it that night of your first date and ran with it, never mind the fact he was quite the devious scoundrel, gentlemanly perception be damned the way he’d tug at your skirts and your hair in public like you were on the playground, always teasing, always playing with you, so discreetly no one would ever see it coming from him, of all people. Your brain saw all that too, the little childish streak he’d get sometimes, but your heart stomped it out, wrapped up in the image of Jungkook being your golden boy, and you couldn’t possibly take advantage of such an angel’s kindness to mooch off his streaming services.

From across the table, Jungkook gives you a pointed look, as if he knows you’re trapped in that brain of yours again. Unlike you, Jungkook was easily able to pick apart your true personality, and the way the devil on your shoulder spoke more often than not. He knew you were prone to outrageous schemes and evil villain monologues, and he still kept you around. Let you linger around his home in his big shirts and eat his healthy breakfasts with him. Jungkook liked you, as silly and mean as you were, and he was very obvious about it.

“The password—“

“Is none of my business,” you halt him with a tone of finality in your voice, gesturing for him to slide the beat up laptop back over. Jungkook sighs, runs a hand over his face like you’ve worn him out, but relents.

Taking it with a triumphant grin, you settle back into your seat, nudge his foot with yours beneath the table. Jungkook nudges you back, the adorable fuzzy socks he was wearing making you giggle, a sound that finally brings a smile to his face. “Y’know…” he says, “if you’re gonna be the Disney villain you claim to be, you might as well just take all my passwords.”

Rolling your eyes, you focus your attention back on copying some notes for class, falling back into the rhythm of glancing at the screen and back at your notebook. “You’re cute,” you mindlessly hum, taking great pleasure in the rosy hue that rises to his cheeks, one he tries to hide by coughing into his elbow. You set your pencil down, watch him squirm under your gaze like he always does, blushy and shy like he hadn’t had you twisted like a pretzel beneath him an hour ago. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching over to place your hand over his, where it’s idly tapping over some textbook he’s got out. Immediately, he turns it over, squeezes your palm in his. “I don’t mind getting thirty two viruses an hour.”

The reluctant worry in his gaze remains, sweet puppy eyes flickering over you as if trying to catch a hint of a lie. He was so adorable, you could kiss him silly. Finally, Jungkook gives in, though he does so with a lot of effort; letting you fool around on pirating websites truly was the bane of his existence. “Just bring it to me if it breaks down again, okay?” He settles, and you nod.

To your surprise, he brings your hand up and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles, holds your gaze like he absolutely adores you.

He was so handsome, so caring, and so blatantly not yours.

—

“Not heading to your boyfriend's house today?” Doyeon asks the second she steps into your shared dorm, fighting with the boots on her feet. In the last two months of knowing Jungkook (everybody say thank you, Kim Namjoon), it’s become rare to see you home for more than two nights in a row. Jungkook was irresistible in more ways than you could count. If you weren’t falling into bed with him, you were smothering his cute face on the couch, or hovering behind him in the kitchen.

“Not my boyfriend,” you deny, huffy, and she knows how you feel about the subject, which is why she only prods more.

“Wow,” Doyeon drawls, glancing over your shoulder where you’ve got Jersey Shore playing on one half of the screen, an essay document on the other. “The man you see every other night, who looks and fucks like a god, who buys you a shit ton of presents, and treats you like you’re his world… is not your boyfriend?”

On screen, the toxic couple of the century is engaged in another screaming match, the reality tv show quickly spiraling as dramatic music takes over the speakers.

You scratch the back of your head. “Yeah. Well.”

Doyeon almost combusts at your response, flinging herself onto her twin bed in disgust. “He is a fool, a court jester if you will,” she seethes. “You're the hottest babe in a fifteen mile radius chasing after him and he still hasn’t asked you?”

Deciding you can’t comfortably watch the toxicity on screen with Doyeon talking so loudly, you slam down on the spacebar to pause the show. The fickity website, set out to ruin you since you first discovered it a few weeks ago, crashes. It takes your half-assed essay with it as the whole computer suddenly blacks out. You sigh.

“And on top of that,” she’s still going, “you’re hot and evil. Like bro. Come on.”

“Yes, I’m sure every man dreams of getting with an evil seductress,” you sarcastically reply, reaching for your phone to text Jungkook for help, when you suddenly remember why exactly you’re not with him right now. He’d gone to Busan to visit his family this weekend, a quick trip, he’d told you with his tongue down your throat. You shiver at the memory.

You still really want to watch Jersey Shore, though. Almost desperately. It’d been a long time since you watched it, and you honestly forgot the pivotal role that and a bunch of other reality shows had played in shaping you into the conniving woman you were today.

Doyeon seems about done with her tirade against Jeon Jungkook, dramatically storming into the en-suite bathroom you share with your neighbors.

Tapping your phone against your lip, you carefully consider your options. You could just boot your laptop back up, pray for the best and move on. But the 240p episodes were doing a number on your eyes, and for a moment you considered handing over those six bucks to pay for a Hulu membership.

It’s short-lived, and eventually you settle on calling Jungkook.

He answers on the fourth ring, and wherever he is is insanely loud. There’s voices shouting, lots of bustling, until eventually a door closes and Jungkook’s silky voice oozes through the speaker. “Baby? What’s up?”

“Hi,” you respond, feel something disgustingly sweet settle in your chest. “Is this a bad time?” You ask tentatively.

Jungkook laughs, low and raspy. “No,” he tells you, and you hear the smile in his voice. “Never a bad time for you.”

You could lunge through the screen right now, rain kisses down on his face until he’s giggling, telling you it’s too much. The feeling in your chest tightens, and you almost blurt out something embarrassingly cheesy, but a voice in the background calls for him, and Jungkook’s voice responds, “In a sec, mom. I’m talking to a friend right now.”

The glass roof shatters.

Even though you’d just told Doyeon you two weren’t a thing, despite all the coupley things you did, something about Jungkook telling his mom you’re just a friend isn't right. You frown, listen as his mother, a voice just as delicate as his, asks him to grab something from inside. With each second that ticks by, the discomfort you feel grows tenfold, until you’re barely holding yourself together.

Eventually, Jungkook returns. “So what’s up?” He asks again, and you remember what you initially called for. Putting on your big girl pants, you brush your uncalled for insecurities to the side, making sure he can’t detect anything in your tone.

“Your Hulu password. Can I have it?” You say, realize how robotical your voice sounds and belatedly throw in a, “please.”

Jungkook laughs, loud and boyish. The sound almost makes you melt, makes you fall for him even more. The niggling doubt in the back of your head still rings, but it’s temporarily washed away by the man on the phone. “Finally giving in?” He chuckles, doesn’t give you time to respond. “Sure, babe. I’ll text you the login stuff.” You hum, twirl your pencil idly as Jungkook announces he has to go, something about his family waiting on him. You bid him adieu, send him a halfhearted kiss over the phone, and only hope he feels half as content as you do when he does the same for you.

You don’t want to be dramatic about it. In your heart of hearts, you know Jungkook is just more reserved when it comes to dating. He wants to be one hundred percent sure your heart is in the same game as his, tied to the same rules, and putting in the same effort. But there’s a seed of insecurity that plants itself in the back of your head, tells you the reason Jungkook hasn’t asked you out is simply because you’re not good enough.

Jungkook was as rich as they come—not in money, but in personality. (Well, with the way he was advancing through his career, you get the sense he’ll be rich rich in the next few years too.) He had a huge heart, so caring and supportive of those around him, and an even bigger moral compass—hence the ridiculous amounts of streaming services he paid for—and you strongly believed no one was worthy of standing beside someone as wonderful as him.

Sadly, that meant you too.

Jungkook was your dream lover, and with every passing day, you were beginning to think you weren’t his. It had been two months since your first date, and realistically speaking, you know it’s not weird for people to casually date for such a time. It hadn’t been that long, truthfully, but the way you and Jungkook had clicked made it seem so.

He treated you like a queen, pleased your heart and body like no other. None of what Doyeon said earlier was a fib—he picked you up from school in that classy Benz, let you stay the night and sleep in his clothes, ate you out in the morning like you were his breakfast. You acted like you were in a relationship, but what exactly were the two of you?

Were Jungkook’s feelings even at the same level as yours?

Some days, you couldn’t fathom the idea of being so far away from him, texting him incessantly to feel a semblance of his presence. There was always a metaphorical elephant sitting on your chest, the weight of your unlabeled relationship, your insecurities, waiting for him to finally cut you off, decide you’re not what he wants. You wonder sometimes if he sees you out of convenience, but you always remind yourself Jungkook was too emotional and soft to drag someone around like that. (Or was he?)

Realizing how deep you’ve fallen into your spiraling pit of uncertainty, you shake yourself of those thoughts, mindlessly typing in the Hulu login credentials Jungkook texts you.

—

You’re in the student center when Jungkook comes home, laptop and books spread out over a circle table to stop anyone else from coming up to you. You’ve got your headphones in, the background sounds of late 2000’s club music from a Jersey Shore episode drifting through your ears.

A hand suddenly grabs onto your shoulder, and you send nearly half the table’s contents onto the floor when you screech, leg blindly kicking the table. “Woah, woah,” Jungkook calms, pulling out an earbud for you, and the sight of his face makes you relax again, before you’re striking his chest.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you warn, shooting daggers at him as he pulls a chair close to you, plopping down beside you. Jungkook laughs, kisses your temple.

“You doing okay, beautiful?” He inquires, and your heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle from your fright, lurches at the hooded gaze he sends you.

You nod, unconsciously lean closer to him. Jungkook smiles, cheeks pulled tight when you plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Glad to hear it,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close.

You never thought you’d be one of those people. Y’know, the couple shoving PDA down everyone’s throats in a very crowded place. But you can’t help it with Jungkook, gaze honed in on the mole beneath his lip as he recounts his trip to his family’s place. His hair is fluffy again, parted a little to the side to show his forehead. He’s got that big dark hoodie on, the one you love. Your love-addled brain thinks, I could give you a family, but you quickly shut that thought down.

There was no need to think as much for a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Before you can spiral, there’s a set of fingers brushing over your neck, almost casually. You return your attention to Jungkook, watch him leisurely gaze over the bustling students around you. “Missed you,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear. Hell, if your eyes hadn’t been trained on his face, you don’t think you would’ve.

Finally, he glances back at you. He says nothing, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. He leans forward, presses a smooch to your lips, only to smile at you afterward. “Come over?”

The difference between you and Jungkook is that you were very obviously, outwardly evil. You were not embarrassed to admit you were scheming, or that you had ulterior motives behind doing something. You used what you had to your advantage, mastered all types of expressions to get what you wanted.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was a subtle schemer. In fact, he was so goddamn subtle, you doubt he even knew he was a schemer.

But he definitely was one, and your experiences with him were enough to convince you so. There were times he’d stare at you longingly, like a puppy, until you’d do something for him. Times he’d use his demure face to lure you into going to the hardware store for him, into watching some boring documentary with him. Times, like now, where his voice was a little too smooth and low to be considered his normal pitch, clouded gaze sweeping over your features until you understood what he meant by come over.

Numbly, you nod, watch the quirk of his lips as he kisses you once more before gathering your things for you.

The car ride passes by in a flash, Jungkook’s hand on your knee, your head in the clouds. You imagine how easy it would be to just lean over right here, tug him out of his sweats and get that super suck 5000 on him. But Jungkook’s shy, the devil on your shoulder croons, he’d like it better in the backseat, where no one can see.

Your bag hasn’t even touched the floor yet when he pushes you against the door of his house, shoes and coats half off as he envelopes your lips with his.

His hands are warm, cupping your neck to guide you through the kiss, blindly pulling you down the hall. You feel him falter by the stairs, torn between just throwing you on the couch and ravishing you there or making the trip upstairs to the comfort of his bed. You reach up, run your fingers through his hair. “Wherever you want, baby,” you reassure him, and become consumed with glee when his hands grab into the backs of your thighs, hitch you into his arms as he rushes the two of you up the stairs.

The bed is as fluffy as you remember it, and you bounce up towards the pillows after he drops you on the end. He tugs his shirt over his head, chocolate strands coming out a mess afterwards, before crawling up your body. Jungkook’s hands are incessant, grabbing onto every inch of you he possibly can. He kisses up your tummy, pushing your shirt up as he goes, hikes it over the swell of your breasts to gently fondle them in his palms.

When he’s just about suffocated himself between them, he pops back out, catches your gaze with a twinkle in his. “Hi,” you squeak, and Jungkook grins, leaning up to kiss you.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he returns, let’s your tongue slide into his mouth, sucks on the appendage teasingly. You whimper, and Jungkook releases. “You miss me?” He asks, and if you hadn’t been well-versed in the art of Jungkook’s sexy talk, you wouldn’t have noticed the tingle of nervousness that curls around the question.

You placate him, “always.”

It’s all Jungkook needs as he wiggles you out of your clothes, shucks them off somewhere to the side. His hands trail over your body, massage your breasts and pinch the nipples. You sigh, melt into the sheets as he runs his palms over you. He rolls you over, pulls your hips up and carefully pushes your face into the mattress, pushing your hair to the side to peck your neck when he leans over.

“So soft for me, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands slithering around your waist, down your abdomen until the tip of his pointer finger is idly swirling over your clit.

You whine, clutch the comforter beneath you at the touch. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, push your hips back against him. He’s still got his sweats on, and you want desperately to turn around and rip them off of him, feel the press of his cock against your ass.

As if sensing your urgency, Jungkook calms you with kisses trailing over your spine, hot breath fanning over your neck. His fingers slow, just barely grazing over your clit. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” He asks, and you struggle to choke out a response when he presses his finger down against you.

“No,” you eventually gasp, jolt when his hand reaches down, glides through the swollen folds of your cunt.

As if content with your response, Jungkook lets his fingers caress you for a few beats, laps against the side of your neck as you whimper, beg him to continue. When he does, it’s with no ounce of his usual gentle attitude, two fingers shoving forcefully past the tight clench of your pussy lips, deep into your cunt. You shudder, gasping into the sheets.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises, flutters a kiss right below your ear. Your neurons are working overtime, unsure of what to do as he explores your cunt, fingers dragging against your walls. You want to close your eyes, bask in his touches, but every brush of his fingers has them rolling back, fluttering open. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?”

His fingers curl, briefly brushing over your soft spot. But it’s enough to make you cry out, pant against the sheets. “Yours,” you choke, push back against him like he’ll do it again.

A thumb circles your clit, and the tight feeling in your belly snaps, has you crying out his name as your first orgasm in a few days washes over you. “Jungkook,” you whimper, nearly sob when his hands pull away, letting you flop down onto the mattress in a boneless heap. Your thighs feel sticky, and you watch blearily as Jungkook hovers behind you.

“So quickly?” He chuckles, turning you back over. He spreads your legs, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room, and you shiver. A lone finger drags over your cunt, collecting the glossy substance on the tip, before Jungkook is sucking it into his mouth.

He had an affinity for this kind of stuff, you’ve learned. Like he genuinely thought your cum was the most delicious thing in the entire world. That being said, you’re not surprised when he ducks down, pushes your legs to your chest as he begins devouring your pussy.

“Slow down,” you gasp, hand curling in his hair as he spares you not, sensitivity be damned. He was gonna lick you clean. He groans, tongue shoved into your cunt, cute nose brushing against your clit. “Kook,” you warn, though it’s more of a shuddered cry. “I-I’ll come again.”

He pulls off with a wet smack, licks over his tongue as he narrows you with a daring glare. Gone was your sweet Jungkook, replaced with this cum-eating heathen who only purrs, “in my mouth” at your warning.

You scream when the second orgasm hits you, pushing his face against your cunt as his tongue continues, lapping at your folds and your hole as a gush of wetness spurts out of you. For a second, your vision pales, soundless cries caught in your throat as you come all over his face. When you touch down on earth again, your body feels featherlight.

Jungkook is watching you from between your thighs, his face, hair, and chest glistening.  “Oh fuck,” he gasps, shit-eating grin slowly consuming his features. “Did you just.”

You groan, cover your face with your palms as Jungkook settles over you, beaming excitedly at your newest ability. “No,” you whine, pushing him away from where he’s basically glued to your cheek. “That’s so weird.”

He laughs, cute and airy. “Fuck, sweetheart, you squirted all over me,” he sighs, cuddles against you, and you wrap your arms around him only to hide your face in his shoulder, also glistening with your pleasure. He shifts closer, and the hard press of his cock rubs along the inside of your thigh.

“Can we take a break?” You murmur quietly, hesitantly. “I can’t feel my legs.” Jungkook nods, presses a kiss to your temple as he gets off the bed, tossing his t-shirt over to you. He stumbles towards the en-suite, comes back with a dry face and chest; his hair is still damp. He tugs the sheets out from under you, cuddles close. He’s got the two of you wrapped up in no time, your head cradled against his shoulder as he reaches out blindly for the tablet he keeps on the side of his bed, the Hulu app already open.

“Any requests?” He hums, scrolling through the multitude of movies and shows. You wiggle closer, stop his finger when he returns to the home page, and Jersey Shore is the first thing to appear. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s a good show!” You defend, click on it before he can argue. You press closer, throw a leg over his waist where you can feel his still rock hard member hiding beneath his sweats. Poor guy, you think, he must be suffering. But you have to rest for a moment if you wanna ride the shit out of him and knock him breathless like you’d planned.

Jungkook doesn’t comment on the erection he’s sporting, instead choosing to criticize everything wrong with Jersey Shore. You’re not surprised. He’s an avid film nerd, obsessed with ‘real’ storylines, not whatever reality tv shows were.

You’ve seen this episode about a hundred times, so you don’t really mind that he completely ruins it for you with his nitpicking. It’s cute, listening to him ramble about television integrity while you listen to the subtle thudding of his heart beneath your ear.

He’s on his fifth slandering of DJ Pauly D when you decide you’ve had enough, muscles in your legs feeling rejuvenated as you wiggle into his lap, toss the tablet off to the side as you straddle him. “That show makes you hard?” You tease, let your sensitive folds settle over the bulge in his pants.

Jungkook combusts, cheeks flushing at your jab. “No,” he huffs, “my pretty girlfriend’s boobs pressed up against me does.”

You short circuit.

“Huh?” You blurt dumbly. Jungkook rolls his eyes, too concerned with guiding your hips over his crotch to realize you’re having a complete meltdown in your head. An airy moan leaves his mouth, head lolling back against the pillows, when he moves you just right, grinds against you perfectly. But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. “Kook,” you say, cup his face in your palms to force him to look you in the eye.

Jungkook huffs, pointedly looking down at where you sit on him, “babe, gonna need you to—“

“What did you say?” You interrogate, press your foreheads together until he has no choice but to look at you.

Annoyed with your act, he groans. “Babe, your hips,” he urges, almost desperately.

“No,” you retort, “not until you say it again.”

“Say what again?” He cries, lips twitching in irritation, and you’re about two seconds from behind shoved into the mattress, pounded into from behind like he’d done the last time you teased him a little too much.

“That I’m your girlfriend!” You exclaim, heart hammering in your ears.

Jungkook seems to finally halt at that. “Oh,” he responds, leaning back to scan over your expression. “You are?” He says, unsure of what point you’re trying to make.

Your brain fizzes at the news. “Since when?” You cry, suddenly feeling dumb for all the time you spent moping over this perfect boy you thought didn’t want you. “You never asked!”

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed stare, reaches over for the iPad you tossed to the side, some dramatic fight scene on a boardwalk taking place on screen. You wanna scream. Why is he so concerned with Jersey Shore now of all times?

Before you can rain down your displeasure on him, he’s turning it around and showing you a bookmarked email.

It’s from you, apparently, sent a few weeks back at exactly two in the morning. You glance at the date received. It’s from Doyeon’s half birthday, when the two of you had drunk yourselves silly on wine. The title is some mix of dashes and exclamation points, but that’s irrelevant when the contents of the email come to view, some stupid slur of beeee myyy boyfrienderdd????? ;))((;;; that has your jaw dropping in mortification.

You glance back at Jungkook, who seems just as confused as you. “What the hell?” You shriek, snatch the tablet from his hand to see that not only was it a single email, but a thread of emails all asking the same question—there’s even a three stanza sonnet detailing your love for the mole on the side of his neck. You could die. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?! I was so drunk— how could you even take me seriously?”

Jungkook shrugs, almost amused now as he watches you scroll through the twenty emails you sent him. “The next day you told me you really liked me over lunch, so I didn’t mind. Besides,  drunk words are sober thoughts, y’know.”

You stare in disbelief. “You told your mom I was your friend,” you whisper.

The blood rises to his cheeks quickly. “Babe,” he sputters. “I’m not exactly introducing her to every girl I date after three weeks.”

It makes sense, and you hate how much it does so. Pursing your lips, you look away, focus on the bedside table and hope he doesn’t see the tears that threaten to spew out of your eyes. He does, he always does. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He hums, sits up to pull you into his arms. One hand brushes over the back of your head, gently. Softly. “Did that upset you?”

You shake your head no, can’t help the ugly Kim Kardashian sob that rips itself from your throat. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you sniffle, covering your face with the iPad when he tries to duck closer and get a look at you. “Because it’s been two months.”

Jungkook shushes you, hugs you close to his chest as you cry like a baby over some apparently unjustifiable doubts. “That big brain of yours,” he sighs, kisses the frown of your head. “Too busy being evil to be logical.” You whine in protest, and Jungkook chuckles, carefully laying back with you clinging to his chest.

He lets you cry it out, palms rubbing over your back, listens to the annoying Jersey Shore opening song playing when the episode ends. When you’re done, you sit up, try to pretend your eyes aren’t swollen and puffy. Jungkook smiles. “All good?”

You might love him.

“I’m gonna ride you,” you announce, and he chokes in surprise, and before he can try to convince you it’s okay, you’re wrestling his sweats and boxers off, taking his half hard cock into your hand. Jungkook flounders, tries to calm you down, but you’re on a mission, working your hand over him until he’s fattening in your hold, melting into the pillows.

“Baby,” he grunts, rolling his hips into your palm. You lean over, pucker your lips and let a thick drop of saliva fall onto the tip of his cock. It trickles over your fingers, makes it easier to run your hands over him. Jungkook groans, reaches down to cup his hand over yours, urging you to squeeze tighter.

When he’s finally as hard as you want him, tip engorged and angry, you sit up, place your palms on his chest as you scoot over him. Jungkook watches you with dark eyes, skin flushed as you line him up. His hands reach for your hips to steady you, tiny gasps falling from his lips at the first prod against your folds. You’re wet from watching him squirm beneath you, from feeling the heavy weight of his cock in your hand, and you hope he feels how much he excites you.

“That’s it,” he croons as you slowly sink down on him, whimpers catching in your throat from the stretch. “That’s my girl.”

Jungkook is purposeful with his words, smiles at you when the muscles in your thighs jolt at the term. When you’re seated to the hilt, folds brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook ruts experimentally. “Fuck,” he chokes breathlessly.

You let your body adjust, spine tingling with every subtle shift from the man beneath you, still so sensitive from your two orgasms from before. Jungkook waits, even though you know all he wants to do right now is fuck up into you like a madman.

When you’re relaxed enough, you begin to move, pushing yourself on your knees slowly, hissing at the drag of his cock against your folds. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, fingernails scratching against where you’ve got them on his chest still. Jungkook grips your hips tightly, and you unconsciously reach for his forearms to steady yourself instead.

“There you go,” he purrs as you slowly pick up the pace, cock sliding inside of you rougher, faster. You know it’s mostly him, muscles in his arms flexing as he moves you up and down, but you don’t care—it feels so good, the upward curve of his cock brushing against your soft spot with each drop of your hips.

He holds you down on one thrust, grinds you over his cock until your clit is rubbing against him roughly, and you cry out his name. You want to kiss him, so very badly, but your position makes it hard. Besides, the sweat beginning to pool in the deep of his collarbones hinted at his oncoming orgasm.

Still, you can’t help the way your eyes instinctively go to trace over his mouth, pouty lips pushed out even more in exertion, teeth grinding together every time your pussy swallows him anew. “Kook,” you mewl, hips bucking forward.

He hums, plants his feet firmly on the mattress as he begins fucking into you. “What is it?” He grunts, pistons into your dripping cunt as you whimper, pleasure crawling up and down your spine. “My pretty girl needs something?”

You wail, nod your head as he continues fucking, ramming his cock into your quivering hole, precum dripping over him. “Yours,” you gasp, mind stuck on what he’d said earlier. “‘M all yours,” you sob, body finally giving out, and you barely catch yourself from falling into him with a palm pressed flatly against his chest.

Jungkook smirks, bucks into you brutally, like he wants you to fall into a boneless heap on top of him. “Yeah, you are,” he groans, as you finally give in, lips brushing against his ear when you flop down on him. “My pretty girl,” he huffs, and you nod, muscles pulled taut as your orgasm begins looming over you. “So cute and mean,” he rambles, lips pressed to your temple. His hips are beginning to lose their rhythm, thrusts growing stilted as he chases his high. “But you know what?” He murmurs, and you whimper. “I like her just like that.”

If his words don’t knock the air out of your lungs, your orgasm surely does. It makes you shudder, the way his hands run over your body, cock ruts into your heat, and you almost cry when the pleasure gets a hold of you. Your muscles tighten, and then loosen, melting into his chest. You’re trembling in his arms, like a leaf holding onto a branch for dear life, choked gasps of his name muffled against his neck.

Jungkook pistons into you, rounds the final corner in his race to orgasm, and eventually spurts his hot cum into you, coats your walls as another reminder that you’re his. He’s a silent orgasmer, sounds catching in his throat as his body twitches beneath you, silent even afterwards as he regains his senses.

A few moments later, you’re shifting out of his hold, pushing yourself onto your elbows to glance down at him. Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but, as if sensing you’re looking at him, he flutters them open, chocolate irises softening at the sight of you.

“Holy shit,” he groans, rolls you off of him carefully. His hand brushes over your thigh, like he’s contemplating licking you clean again, but you stop him with a pointed raise of your brows. “Fine. Pass me the tablet.”

You do, and it’s almost unnerving how easily the two of you slip back into comfort, Jungkook changing into some shorts and handing you your discarded panties, before climbing into bed to watch Jersey Shore. You’ve missed about an entire hour-long episode, so you end up rewinding until the point you last saw.

“You and your Netflix and chilling,” Jungkook snorts, head nestled against your breasts. You roll your eyes.

“This is Hulu,” you point out.

“Oh yeah,” he hums, snuggles closer. His body feels so nice and warm over yours, hands wrapped around you like a lifeline. You end up positioning the tablet off by your hip, supported by a pillow so the two of you can watch properly.

You’re still processing your new title, your new boyfriend, when he perks his head up suddenly, solemn gaze catching yours.

“Hulu and Woohoo,” he says, ever so seriously, and you understand why Doyeon thinks he’s a fool.

[ part three ; imax & climax ]

[hargrove-mayfields]

Please do a story where autistic max is getting bullied and billy steps in

warnings for ableism and implied child abuse.

Max is fourteen now. She doesn’t need anybody looking after her like she’s some baby or something just because she’s, as her mother had put it when she was refusing this very same notion, special. She can handle herself.

That’s what she believes at least, and definitely what Billy does too, the both of them tired of being babysit and doing the babysitting respectively, but her mother is very adamant on keeping her pearls clutched in one hand and the other tight fisted in any decision or action her daughter makes.

So naturally, because this is the same woman that thinks Max is immature and faking half her symptoms go spit her, she also assumes she’s completely incapable of taking care of herself, whether that’s because she’s disabled or because she’s a faker is another story, so that’s the way things go anyways, with her step brother having to watch her like she’s still seven years old and meeting him for the first time.

Their relationship is on the upswing after things settled in Hawkins, but Max still wants her independence and Billy wants to give it to her, the last thing a seventeen year old boy really want is to watch his little sister like she’s on a play date, so their usual agreement is for Billy to take Max wherever he gets told to take her and just drop her off, finding something else to do in the area until it’s time to pick her up.

That system had yet to fail them, so when Max gets an invite to the arcade literally the day after she gets ungrounded after sneaking out again for the third time since they moved to Hawkins and begs her mother for literal hours to let her go this time, the compromise is that she can go, but only as long as Billy goes with her, and just like usual, he just drops her off at the door with a promise to be back before too late, and drives off to go do something she probably doesn’t want to know the details of.

Her friends are already there, and they all play together for a little bit, but while Max was bargaining for permission and waiting for Billy to get his lecture from both parents before they could even think about leaving for the arcade, Lucas and Mike and Dustin and Will had already been there and playing, so by the time she showed up, it didn’t take long for them to get bored of being there or run out of pocket change.

Max doesn’t like plans changing though, and she came to the arcade to play, so even as the last of the party is getting on their bikes or in their own respective cars to be picked up, she just waves goodbye from the door before turning sharply back to the dig dug cabinet, too set on replacing every high score with her name to just leave on a whim because her friends were.

Similarly, Max also finds it pretty hard to keep track of time. It’s like once she starts doing something she planned to do, she has to finish it, so by the time she’s gotten bored of literally everything there is to play in the place and spent nearly every last quarter she’d been collecting for the weeks she was confined to the house as punishment, it’s already fallen dark outside, the arcade close to closing.

That’s not really a problem in it of itself, she has no curfew anymore now that she’s not off the hook, and anyways that was only ever about punishment, not safety, since her mother said bad things don’t happen in small towns. Billy argued that they do if you’re the right kind of person though, for which he got promptly smacked in the mouth, but Max thinks he’s probably right.

Because she’s autistic and she has a gay older brother, and currently she’s one of only a handful of kids left at the arcade at closing, and that is exactly the problem. Max is alone, at night, in a town that’s still mostly unfamiliar as with the person who was supposed to be watching her nowhere in sight, and she’s being tailed as she goes towards the double door exit by the only other kids there, two boys and a girl all at least a year older than her whose names she’d never really caught.

This wouldn’t be her first run in with this group. She’s just an easy target, and that’s exactly what they’re looking for, and these three had been picking on her practically since she showed her face in the arcade for the first time. Only they’d never really stayed this late, and the extent of their tormenting was typically unoriginal insults thrown from the other side of the room that she was bored of and could ignore pretty easily.

She’d like to think that maybe this wasn’t a bad thing going to happen, just a coincidence that those three were still lurking around. Keith was about to close up the arcade anyways, so they were probably just waiting until it closed to leave too.

Max realizes that definitely isn’t the case though when the second they’re out those glass front doors, the girl roughly snatches her bag off of her shoulder.

Usually she’d leave the bag in Billy’s car when she went out somewhere, but she had enough extra money saved up tonight that she wanted it in a change purse instead of her pocket so she didn’t lose it, and since the change purse was small and easy to misplace and her brain a little bit flighty, she just brought the whole bag.

The whole bag which happened to have everything of importance to her in it, not only her money, but also her notebook, her school id, and all of her stim toys.

By her parents' rules, she wasn’t allowed to stim loudly or in a way they deemed embarrassingly, especially not in public, so she brought toys with her everywhere, and now they were being stolen from her because she was too busy trying to think like Susan, that nothing bad could possibly happen, unless of course she brought it on herself, but that’s just not the case.

And either way, she needed those toys back, the situation at home worsening and leaving behind her favorite behavior therapist during the move and so many other things had made her stress skyrocket, and likewise her meltdowns, so she truly needed those toys to help her.

“Give that back!” Max insists after a pause where she was trying to wrap her mind around what was happening, and tries to snatch the bag back, grabbing the straps and trying to pull it back towards herself when the girl starts rummaging through it.

All that gets her is being shoved roughly into one of the boys, who grabs onto her arm tight enough to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips on her pale skin, and a taunting sneer of, “Sorry, retard. Finders keepers.”

The girl digs around in her bag, looking for a wallet or a checkbook or something, but Max wasn’t even trusted to take her walkie talkie out of the house, let alone any actual money other than the quarters she and Billy saved up, so other than the now empty coin purse, she was broke.

When all she finds is Max’s things, she drops the bag, making everything she’d disrupted spill out of it, and curses, “What the hell is all this junk?”

Max isn't really listening though, because the minute the bag spilt, the two boys took to picking the things they thought might be of value, and in the case of the things they didn’t, like her magic snake that clicked in just the right way when it moved, they’d drop them again, and literally stomp on them, or snap them in two first.

Her mind is much too focused on watching her toys be broken or stolen, that just she doesn��t hear it when she’s asked a question. She very much feels the consequence though, a slap to the back of the head from the boy who didn’t have a grip on her arm hard enough to make her neck sore and bring tears to her eyes, so she forces herself to tune back into things.

“We asked you a question, dumbass. Why are you carrying around a bag of toys like a baby or somethin’?”

“B-Because I need them so I can stim.” Max answers honestly, trying her damndest not to cry, to prove to them she was not a baby, but it didn’t feel like it was too far off, as she was getting more and more emotionally overwhelmed, also getting closer and closer to a meltdown.

“Stim? What the hell is that?” She hears one of the boys ask, and the other chimes in, “Probably something to do with being retarded.”

The older girl snaps at the boys arguing behind Max, “Does it matter? Let’s just take her money and get the hell out of here.”

They keep arguing, and Max is again past the point of processing really anything that’s going on around her, the arcade with all its lights and noises and crowds was already an overwhelming sensory experience, and now with the other kids shouting at her and the aching bruises that were now forming on her skin, it’s all just too much for her.

It’s for that reason that she doesn’t have enough focus left for it to really click what’s happening other than the kids surrounding her freezing up, and bright lights and loud noises that make her squeeze her eyes shut and cover her ears.

What it is though is Billy, brights on, stopping with the front two wheels of the camaro on the sidewalk, and slamming his door hard enough as he gets out that it echoes off the trees way at the back of the arcade.

Billy’s yelling too, threats to call the police and damnation and all kinds of things that Max is too busy trying to remember how to breathe and pick up everything that had spilled out of her bag to hear, and the bullies end up scampering off once Billy’s voice gets scratchy and angry in that way it gets when he and Neil argue, dropping everything where it was and just bolting.

Max hears Billy sigh and sees his kneel down next to her, his face so much kinder to her than he had looked for those kids who were hurting her, come into her limited line of sight as he kneels down next to her on the sidewalk, which she hadn’t even noticed she had sat down on, and he asks her, “You okay, Max?”

And at first, Max was going to say yes, she’d taken worse than that from teachers who didn’t want stim toys in class and as punishments from her parents, but it scared her, the way that he had asked, because he didn’t call her shitbird or kiddo or brat face, he called her by her name, and she bursts into tears almost immediately after he asks.

She’s still not really in a meltdown, which was exhausting, those emotions needed to come out and they just weren't, but it’s still bad enough Billy has to sit fully down on the sidewalk and wait it out with her before they can get back in the car. He puts his hand high on her chest and makes her sit up straight to keep her breathing under control and lets her rock herself until Max’s heavy sobs eventually slow to a couple of stray tears, and then she nods, a wordless way to tell Billy she was ready to go home.

Before they can leave though, they still have more to talk about, a conversation that they don’t want their parents a part of, and they both know it. Still, the car is silent for a minute, nothing but the sound of Max’s sniffles and the creak of the leather steering wheel cover cracking under the pressure of Billy’s angry grip, fists opening and closing around it.

Max is the first to break it, her voice so weak with residual fear and tears it’s barely audible as she gets her brothers attention, “Billy?”

He sighs through his nose, to try to calm down before he talks to Max more than anything, and lets go of the wheel, knowing that was only making things worse, “What is it, kiddo?”

“Are you going to tell?” She’s doing that thing where she presses her palms together and pushes until her knuckles turn white, very clearly nervous asking, so Billy clarifies, “Do you want me to tell?”

Immediately Max shakes her head no. They both know this little incident could get them back on lockdown, Max because her mother would be worried for her precious, breakable little daughter, and Billy because he was supposed to be there.

Not that Billy gave a shit about saving his own hide at the moment, but if Max didn’t want him to tell and get them in heaps of trouble, he wouldn’t, and that’s exactly what he tells her, “Then no, we’ll keep it between us, but you gotta have an excuse ready for those bruises and scrapes.”

Max shrugs, almost too nonchalant, “I’m a skater, skaters get lots of injuries.”

“Don’t think I like how quick you came up with that.” Billy looks over at her, and Max’s gaze shifts to the window behind him as she responds bluntly, “Yeah, well I learned from the best, didn't I?”

“I guess you did.” Billy sighs, doesn’t like to admit the influence he’s had on Max’s in that way. He wants to lead a good example, be the big brother she needed him to be and instead he was teaching her how to lie to her parents and make excuses for injuries.

Though really, in the case of their parents, he guesses that was exactly the type of brother he needed to be. One who teaches her how to avoid her abusers instead of how to avoid annoying boys at school, and who will help her figure out loopholes to punishments and rules instead of her math homework. Just the thought of that concept makes his chest ache.

He starts the car, noting that the vibrations of the engine through the car help to ease the tension out of Max’s shoulders and revving it a couple more times than necessary, “Let’s just get you home, shitbird.”

[heroloverangel]

Subterfuge

aka “What’s a flimsy excuse for a plot to fuck Hawks again?”

Note: This does have minor spoilers that’ll probably be at the start of season 5, if anyone wants to avoid them!

This isn’t the first time you’ve found yourself in front of a certain hero’s home, knocking as loud as you can without disturbing his neighbors. “Come on, open up. You know they don’t pay me overtime!” You bang impatiently on the door again, complaining to yourself about how this was supposed to be your day off, and you’ve wasted half of it trying to track down this overgrown chicken, and your boss at the Hero Public Safety Commission can fuck right off if she thinks-

“Thinks what?” The door finally opens, revealing the lazy smirk of the number two hero. “She can’t be too mad if she sent the cute secretary.” He winks and you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the usual flutter of butterflies in your stomach. It’s not your fault that he’s a shameless flirt. You push past him into his apartment and Hawks follows you, chatting happily about his day.

He apologizes that he didn’t see your messages, but the place definitely looks like it’s been hastily cleaned by someone expecting company. You leave your shoes and drop down on his couch, pulling his missing paperwork out of your bag and he slouches next to you, looking far too cheerful considering all the trouble he’s given you. “Here,” you shove the folder at him. “These are the updated regulations on payments for commercials.” The hero takes them from you, yawns, and stretches his arm across your side of the couch. “You were supposed to sign it two weeks ago.”

He laughs and offers you a shrug. “Guess I just lost track of time.” His wings twitch, and out of the corner of your eye you notice something that looks like a very small camera attached to his feather. His arm slips down to stretch across your shoulder, and you feel a tingle at the spot where his fingers touch your bare skin once you activate your quirk.

Your power isn’t good enough to be a hero, but it’s certainly useful for the Commission. You have a minor form of mind reading; when you make contact with someone, you’re able to ask simple questions in their mind and hear their answer in your own brain. It’s taken you quite a few years to figure out how to phrase anything into a yes or no question, but Hawks picked up on the rules of your quirk almost instantly. It comes in handy at times like this, when a flimsy excuse about work brings you together to share information about the villains he’s infiltrating.

Are they watching? Yes.

Did you know the boss can’t find anything about the leader’s history? No.

Do you have anything for her? Yes.

Should we distract the camera? Yes.

The two of you have a light conversation to hide the one in your heads, but it’s far too easy to fall into his trap and find yourself totally charmed by the hero. You don’t object when the playful words turn into a kiss, and your mouth opens for his tongue with no hesitation. “Babe, you’re so good for me,” he coos, warm breath making you shiver as he nips at your ear. “You know I ignore the Commission sometimes just so you’ll have to come over?”

Even with your quirk, you’re never quite sure how much of his affection is just an act, or if there’s any truth behind his words. “You could just text me like a normal person,” you snort, ruffling his hair and stealing a kiss of your own.

“Now where would the fun be in that?” He’s already tugging at your shirt, and it’s almost embarrassing how fast he gets it off you to trail his lips along your shoulder to the strap of your bra. “You even wore the nice red one for me,” he notices with a smirk. “I bet it’s a matching set.”

“Hey,” you complain, slapping his hand away from the zipper of your pants. “I’m not getting fucked on your couch again. I know how comfy your bed is.” He laughs at you, burying the sound in your neck as he gives a quick, teasing nip at your pulse. Hawks is good at this, and despite your attitude it’s far too tempting to lay back and let him do whatever he wants. Still he agrees, gesturing for you to lead the way while he maneuvers out of his shirt. You look back, and in the brief second the camera on his wing is covered, you see him quickly slip something into your bag.

You’ve never been told to sleep with Hawks as part of your job, simply to do whatever’s necessary to help him share information. The sex is just a bonus, an easy excuse to spend time together, have his hands on you. The fact that it plays right into his reputation as a carefree playboy only makes it more believable.

He’s back on you the moment you get to his bedroom. You’re wrapped in those beautiful wings, his fingers tangling in your hair as he angles your face up for his lips. It’s been a few weeks, and  he’s more eager than usual to get his tongue back in your mouth. For a moment you remember the camera and wonder how good of a view your audience has, but then Hawks is groping at your chest and the thought is quickly forgotten. His fingers slip into your bra and stroke a hardening nipple to earn a moan from the back of your throat.

“I almost wanna keep this on,” he says, slipping a strap off your shoulder. “Too bad you make the best fucking sounds when I’m playing with you.” Your bra is off before you can think of a reply, so instead you busy yourself with trailing your own fingers over his abs and stomach. His muscles twitch at your touch; he plays his role as the smooth lover boy perfectly, but his reaction hints that he’s just as smitten as you are. It feels so quiet and intimate in the cocoon of his wings, you let your hand slip up to palm his cheek and he leans into your touch. He pulls you closer, pressing your bodies together, kissing you deeper until your head is spinning and you have to force yourself to break for air.

Held against him like this, the press of his cock inside his pants is obvious. You reach for him, hoping to tease him a bit but he’s not in the mood to play fair tonight. His wings split apart and you’re disoriented for a moment by the sudden return of brighter light and cooler air. It’s easy for him to walk you backwards until your legs hit the bed and you’re guided onto the familiar mattress.

“This was your plan all day, wasn’t it?”

He laughs. “What, I’m just not supposed to seduce the hot secretary when she makes a house call? Do you know how much porn starts with that exact plot?” He leaves another kiss on your neck while his fingers trail down your sides, skimming over your ribs to work at your zipper. You lift your hips to help him slide your jeans off, and you don’t miss the pleased sigh Hawks makes at the sight of you. “Damn, you look good in red.”

You smile and grab for him. “Get up here.” You don’t need to tell him again; he’s on top of you before you can blink, warm mouth following the line of your collarbone and leaving you panting. Your eyes slip closed to enjoy his attention and he’s rewarded with a sweet, breathy gasp when you feel his touch circling your nipples. You wriggle under him, feeling the rough fabric of his pants on your bare skin as the gentle strokes send shivers down your spine. You’re aware of him shifting his weight above you, hear the jingling of his belt as he yanks off the rest of his clothes and you blink up at him with curiosity. Wait, where are his hands?

“You fucking tease,” you groan, heat rising to your cheeks as two of his soft feathers continue their attack on your breasts. He looks absolutely delighted at your response, watching you squirm with every movement of his quirk. You bite your lip, trying to keep your noises to yourself but you’re tragically outmatched. It only takes him a minute to have you whining for him, arching your back as every light flick of his feathers drives you wild. “Hawks, enough.”

From his position between your legs, you can’t hide the damp spot you know is spreading across your panties. He touches you through the fabric and your hips jerk when he brushes against your clit. His hand slips past your underwear for more, prodding at your pussy to feel how wet you are. “Complain all you want, I can tell how much you love it when I do that.” His fingers find their way inside, and he gives you a pleased hum as your walls squeeze around him. “Oh, sweetheart. You want me that bad, huh?” You nod and swallow loudly, trying to find your voice.

“Looks like you want it just as much,” you point out, very aware of the precum leaking from the tip of his cock in anticipation. He pumps himself for you and you admire him; after all those years of training, his body is practically perfect. By the time he’s pulling your panties off and positioning his perfect dick to enter you, you’re covered in sweat and nearly begging him for it. He sprawls over you, face buried in your neck and in the moment, you know this isn’t an act.

“Ask me nicely.”

You reach up and run your fingers through his messy hair. “Keigo,” your voice is so quiet it’s barely audible. “Come on, fuck me.”

The growl he lets out is more like an animal than any human. “That’s my girl,” he snarls, hips surging forward to push his throbbing dick inside. “That’s my fucking girl.”

Despite the ferocity in his voice, he starts frustratingly slow. Your body’s more than ready for him, and every smooth thrust into your cunt drags another embarrassingly needy sound from you. His mouth is all over you, leaving sloppy kisses across your face and neck. He’s got enough control not to leave obvious marks, even as his teeth nip softly at your skin. Your arms wrap around his strong shoulders, pulling him close to enjoy his own grunts as he buries his cock in your dripping pussy over and over.

“Still mad you had to come over?” You shake your head, too distracted for words. He brushes over your clit and you cry out, your muscles squeeze tight around him at the touch. “God, I never get over how good that feels.”

It’s unfair that he’s just as talented with his fingers as he is with his quirk. He moves faster, rutting deeper into you while his fingers tease your clit to keep you mewling like a cat in heat. “Hawks, don’t...I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

His smirk is downright wicked. “That’s what I want, beautiful. Tell me how much you love it.”

He bites down sharply on your throat and his free hand comes up to grope your chest, barely grazing along a sensitive nipple and you’re gone. Your nails sink into his back as you writhe beneath him, squealing for your hero while your cunt twitches wildly around his pulsing cock.

“Fuck, babe. You have no idea how good you look like that.” Your mind is out of service, body running on instinct now to keep up with him. He has no interest in letting you recover, only rutting harder between your thighs to get himself off. “Look at me,” he orders, kissing your sweaty forehead and you meet his eyes after a few seconds. “So pretty,” he murmurs.

You’re content to lay back and let him finish on his own; it’s a surprise when he grabs onto your hips and changes his angle just slightly, but you feel the difference immediately. He’s rubbing against your g-spot with every stroke, and you see stars in your vision. All too soon you’re on the verge of another orgasm and bring him down to whisper praises in his ear. “You’re so good to me. That’s perfect. Keigo, please-” It’s too much for Hawks, and there’s a flurry of motion as he pulls out of you just in time, warm cum splattering across your lower belly. He always loves to see you covered in it, and you wonder if this is some weird bird instinct to mark you with his scent.

You don’t have time to think about it, though. His fingers are slipping back into your now-empty pussy before you can lose the buildup, and his tongue flicks over your clit to force more of those sweet, obscene sounds out of you. He only needs a few seconds of this treatment to have your legs clamped around his head and you’re wailing for him again. He stays there, licking greedily at your cunt until you have to yank at his hair to stop.

Limbs feeling like jelly, you stretch out on his bed to catch your breath. You close your eyes and nearly doze off as you let him clean you up and fix the sheets. You don’t respond until he flops down onto the mattress beside you and one large wing spreads across your body. You look over and he meets your eyes with a faint smile.

“Hey, eventually when I get some free time…” Hawks yawns loudly and puts his arm across your shoulders. You know what he means by that. He’s thinking about some point in the future, when this mission is over and he’s not stuck playing around with villains. Curious, you activate your quirk to read his thoughts. “I wanna take you out on a real date,” he announces.

“Really?” You ask out loud, and the question echoes in your head.

Really? Yes. 

“Definitely.” 

You try to play it cool, but the grin spreading across your face tells him everything. “Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun.” It’s warm underneath his wing. Surely you can afford to spend a bit more time here before you head home. “Hey, Hawks?”

“Mmm?”

“Next time just sign your goddamn papers on time and I’ll fuck you out of sheer gratitude.”

His laugh is tired but genuine. “Deal.”

[oureuphoria]

Hiii, this is the old version of this chapter before I revamped the series because a lot of people have asked for it :DDD

———————

Jungkook was confused. He was confused about how you had gotten in, he was confused about why you had gotten and he was confused about who you were with. This was the most confused he had ever been and Jungkook took AP calculus. He ignored you however, opting looking at his phone instead. The date struck a chord in Jungkook’s head, finally remembering that it was your 21st birthday, and he missed it. Jungkook tried to tell himself that the boy was probably just a random friend, someone insignificant because you needed to fill the void he left. It was selfish, but he needed it to get him through the night. Everything was fine and under control. Jungkook wasn’t worried. Until, you went with the mystery boy to the dance floor, then Jungkook was beginning to feel his blood boil.

“Jimin, I can’t dance.” “Nobody can, just follow my lead you’ll be fine.” Jimin spun you around into his arms and you playfully danced together (although it was mostly stiff swaying on your part). Jungkook was livid but before he could spiral further he was broken out of his trance when Mel whispered into his ear. “I told you so.” He turned around and glared at her before claiming he didn’t even care. Jimin noticed his look of disinterest, not sensing the ingenuity behind his facade. “Damn, it’s not working. We need to try harder.” You furrowed your eyebrow at him questioningly at his vague suggestion, you needed to draw the line. “I’m just putting this out there, I am not kissing you that is never happening.” Jimin laughed uncontrollably for a bit and you tried not to take offence, after all, you didn’t like the idea of kissing him either. “You literally remind me of my little sister, I wouldn’t dream of it.” You both stood there close to each other trying to come up with a way to make Jungkook jealous without actually looking like you were trying to come up with a way to make Jungkook jealous. “Oh, I’m a genius, come with me.” He grabbed your wrist and you followed him to what was a secluded area that had dim lighting and a few elevator doors.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“This is it, this is the plan.” You looked at him with astonishment, he could not have been serious. “This is a shitty plan, Jimin.” He ignored your pessimism and gestured to the couples around you, all engaged in borderline public indecency. You got the hint but you weren’t sure that Jungkook would. While you were scowling at the vivid displays of PDA, Jimin slightly peaked from the edge of the wall where he spotted his target. “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” You quickly turned to him muttering a hushed, “what?!?” “He’s coming, he’s literally coming. Get into position.” “What position? We never discussed any positions.” Jimin quickly trapped you between the wall and his two arms and it was kind of awkward because you were almost the same height. Whatever macho move he was trying to pull had failed embarrassingly. “Okay, now giggle like I said something funny.” All you did is glare at him. “This is ridiculous Jimin I-” “Do you want revenge or not?” You tried not to whine because frankly enough this was not how you wanted to spend your birthday. You sucked it up anyway because Jimin’s scheme had no forseeable end. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” “God forbid you ever become a spy, you suck at this.” You were about to reply before a cough had you both looking to your left at the origin of the sound only to find what seemed to be a mildly distraught Jungkook. “Sorry, do you mind if I borrow her for a second?” Jimin nodded a little too eagerly and if it wasn’t for his distracted mind, Jungkook might’ve picked up on the inconsistency. You weren’t the only bad actor. Jungkook gave you barely any time to think before he dragged you to an even more secluded corner next to the bar.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook knew exactly what you were doing but he realised he needed a cover for randomly pulling you away, he couldn’t just admit he was jealous, that would be extremely hypocritical. “None of your business." “When you’re underage it is.” He knew it was your birthday and that you were of legal age but he couldn’t possibly tell you that, not when you could barely look him in the eyes.. “Nope, it still isn’t.” Jungkook didn’t know what to say but he knew he didn’t want you to leave his side at all. You didn’t like the awkward silence so you made an an attempt to leave, but it was futile. “Now if you don’t mind I have to go find my friend.” Just as you are about to walk away from him, Jungkook rested his hand on your shoulder and you halted, your back facing him. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want me to leave you alone tonight.” You hated the cockiness in his tone, you shouldn’t have given in but you turned around to face him out of spite.

However, the moment your eyes interlocked with his, you were gone and the only thing you could think about was your lips on his. It didn’t take long for you to lose your resolve, in fact his lips were making their way down your neck before you’d even realised you kissed him. You gasped quickly under your breath when he began to suck on the lower part of your neck, he grazed his teeth over the same place afterwards before detaching his lips and smiling deviously at the mark he made, the mark you had no idea existed. “Have fun with friend tonight, Y/N.” And with those final words of false encouragement, he walked away. You stood there where he left you, frozen for a bit while blinking rapidly to try and comprehend what had just occurred right before you. You rushed to find Jimin.

“What happened?” Jimin’s voice was laced with concern at the sight of your teary eyes. “Nothing, Jungkook’s just an asshole.’” “Details stupid.” “I kissed him and he kissed back before running off with some bullshit ‘have fun with your friends’ You mimicked his part in a deeper voice that made Jimin chuckle a little, though he quickly stopped when he saw your neck. “Y/N he gave you a hickey.” You gasped loudly. “Please tell me you’re lying.” You ran your fingers over where he kissed your neck and winced when you felt a bruise. “Oh no. Now I have to wear turtlenecks everyday.” Jimin laughs at your now even sadder state. “Don’t you get it? He clearly did that on purpose to deter me. Sneaky, smooth, handsome bastard. You have got to ask him to teach me his tricks.” You looked at Jimin in disgust and he mocked your face before wrapping his arm around your neck. “Oh our little baby Y/N got her first hickey how amazing.” You elbowed him slightly again and he swiftly pulled your hair out of your ponytail. “You can use your hair to cover it up.” You hated having your hair down but he was right, it conveniently covered the hickey quite well. You went back to sit at the bar with Jimin but he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Someone sat beside you and you had assumed it was Jimin but when you turned around you were met with Jungkook instead and sirens went off in your head like that scene in the movie inside out.

“Did I tell you that you could cover it?” You didn’t give much attention to what Jungkook had said, you forgive too easily and you weren’t going to let that happen again. Jungkook could see that you were uncomfortable and he hated the fact that he couldn’t comfort you or make you feel better. Hell, he was most likely a huge part of the discomfort you had felt lately and he regretted every second of it now. If he couldn’t bare to see you with someone else he wondered how badly he’d hurt you in the past by doing even worse. “Why did you lie to me?” You barely mustered the courage to ask him that question. He hummed in reply to your broken voice, not understanding what you had asked. “Why did you lie and say that you liked me when you didn’t?” Jungkook kept his lead low, trying to formulate an excuse, any excuse and yet nothing but the truth would come to mind. “I didn’t lie.” You scoffed bitterly, clearly not believing his answer. “I hope you don’t go around hurting all the people you like, Jungkook.” He laughed lifelessly, swinging around his drink before chugging it. He decided then and there that he was going to tell you everything, every single worry that stopped him from being with you because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like you were the problem.

“In high school, I fell in love with a girl named Ruby. She was absolutely beautiful, the kindest soul I had ever met. Senior year, she was killed in a public shooting. I swore to myself that I’d pursue law enforcement after that so I’d never be that helpless again. She’s the reason I became a cop. She’s also the reason I thought I could never fall in love again. Y/N when I first met you I didn’t plan to like you as much as I did, frankly I didn’t plan to like you at all. I’ve been alone ever since I was 16 and after Ruby passed away I never thought I wouldn’t be. It felt unnatural for me to do simple things like take you out on dates or even reply to your messages. I kept forgetting and fucking up the more I’d try and every time I saw you I’d feel more and more guilty because I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

“All I wanted was you, Jungkook. I didn’t want all your time or attention, I probably would’ve been okay with one phone call a week but you were so inconsistent. You’d talk to me nearly everyday and then not at all. I’d feel like I was getting closer to you and then you would feel like a stranger again. It was exhausting and it hurt and I know it hurt you too. You need to stop denying yourself happiness. What happened in the past will never change, no matter how much you beat yourself up about it. Moving on and being happy with someone else doesn’t mean you’re forgetting her. It just means you’re not forgetting yourself.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m such a horrible person.” You shook your head. “You’re not a horrible person, you just deal with your doubts and problems horribly. From now on, you have to tell me what’s troubling you. Show me the worst of you, and we can deal with it together.” If Jungkook wasn’t sure about liking you before, he was head over heels now. He hugged you, his head sinking into the crook of your neck. “I don’t deserve you.” You laughed a little at what he said. “If you ever ignore me like that again. I’ll never forgive you.” Jungkook chuckled and pulled back from your embrace, looking you dead in the face now.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” You looked at him weirdly but you quickly dissolved into a smile. “So you did remember!” His face softened at your excitement, your sleepy eyes shining through though. “Come on, let me take you home.” You were about to agree but then you remembered your friend and you wondered where he went. “Give me one second.” Jungkook’s eyes visibly hardened. “Are you going to look for Jimin? Seriously Y/N?” You pouted with pleading eyes. “But he’s my best friend, I have to at least say goodbye!” Jungkook looked confused now. “I thought he was your date.” Your face fell when you realised you had just blown your cover. Jimin was right, you would make the worst spy. Jungkook was beginning to realise what had happened now and he seemed even angrier. “Y/N please tell me you didn’t do all of that just to make me jealous.” “Well it worked, didn’t it? Let’s go now.” You were dragging Jungkook away mid-way through your question, you pulled out your phone to call Jimin and he immediately answered. “Y/N did you secure the bag yet?” You obnoxiously laughed at his horrible code name and Jungkook looked at you weirdly. “Where did you put my coat?” There was a pause that was prolonged by Jimin’s “ummmmmmm…” which eventually resulted in him telling you to wait and hanging up.

“I don’t think he’s coming Y/N, here you can have my jacket.” You rolled your eyes, he clearly didn’t like Jimin. “Calm down will you, it’s been like 40 seconds.” Jungkook clicked his tongue in annoyance, eyeing your dress cautiously. “Maybe if you wore something that covered you more you wouldn’t need a coat.” You started to giggle a bit. “It’s a pretty dress don’t you think?” “No it’s hideous. You’ll throw it away once you get home and never wear it again, right?” You shook your head, wanting to tease him. “I like it, I think I’ll dress like this more often.” Jungkook groaned before pulling you towards him by the waist. “I’m going to get you a shirt that says “my boyfriend’s a cop” and you’re going to wear it everywhere.” You would’ve laughed if he hadn’t addressed himself as your boyfriend. You smiled nervously, you wanted to address it but you were scared he’d run away. Your nervous face made Jungkook worry. “You do want me to be your boyfriend, right?” You smiled sheepishly at his question. “Yes please.” You mumbled ever so slightly. He hugged you painfully close before kissing the top of your head. “I missed you, princess.” You didn’t know how to feel about the pet name, was he still mocking you or complimenting you? “I’m not sure if I like that nickname or not.” Jungkook laughed at your hesitancy to accept the nickname.

Jimin ran out with your coat, handing it to you and then looking at you and Jungkook with teasing eyes. You glared at him so he raised his hands defensively and went back into the club, blowing a kiss your way. Jungkook hailed a cab and opened the door for you. He then leaned down to speak to you which you found peculiar because you thought he was going with you. “I have to go back inside, the Chief’s there and I’m really trying to get a promotion.” The desperation in his voice made you belt out a bubbly laugh before you stopped abruptly at his pointed glare. He sent you off with a goodnight and gave the driver a $50 note before letting you go. When you were about to pay the cab driver he laughed and said your boyfriend had already paid and too much at that. You were about to correct him till you remembered, he really was your boyfriend, you went home with a huge, beaming smile.

I’m so sorry this is so late 😭😭😭 @p-jiminaa

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.6]

Chapter:  Cosmic Rays

Summary:  Bucky has two days off and, he’s going to make the best of every second. 

Warnings:  All kinds of heartwarming fluff. I think we all need that after Endgame. 

A/N: This is my favorite chapter to date. It’s extra fluffy because my heart hurts (Thanks Marvel). Just keep in mind... slow burn. Send me love because i”m needy, okay?!  Plus all your comments make my day. BIG ULTRA HUGE thanks to my beautiful beta @lokissoul I love you 3000!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

For forty-eight hours Bucky doesn’t have to think about on-site drills, taking calls, Sam and Clint bickering. He doesn’t have to think about the damn station if he doesn’t want to and he has zero intentions of doing so. The next two days are going to be spent at home with his baby girl, and he can do… laundry. He glares at the mountain of dirty clothes sitting on the washing machine and the second pile laying in front of the dryer and several of Ori’s dresses and tulle skirts that have to be dry cleaned.

That is not how he wants to spend his day off.

Bucky pushes his chair out from the kitchen table ignoring the piles of dirty clothes that were now behind him. Can’t see it, none of it exists, right? He brings his cup of coffee up to his lips and freezes spotting the stack of dirty dishes from the night before and the batter covered waffle iron from this morning. Not to mention the oddly large number of cups they managed to dirty. How do two people use that many cups in only a few days?

 With a quick turn of the head, focusing his gaze on the living room in an attempt to escape the mess he’s greeted with puzzle pieces thrown about, Disney Pictionary cards tossed haphazardly, brightly colored pom poms and googly eyes spread out on the coffee table and his arch nemesis – glitter. It’s covering the couch, the rug, and coffee table. Bucky winces at the sight and sets his mug down, heading towards the pile of dirty clothes. They had to get out of this house today and the semi-clean joggers he’s wearing isn’t going to cut it in public.

Plucking one of the not so embarrassingly dirty pairs of jeans out of the pile on the floor he glances back at Ori coloring something with her glitter crayons. Her entire morning has been spent perfecting whatever picture she’s drawing, because Orion is a perfectionist. She gets easily frustrated when she can’t make things look or feel a certain way. If doesn’t know the answer to a question, tears are sure to follow pretty quickly. She simply doesn’t like to let Bucky, or anyone, down. 

As much as it worries Bucky, he can’t deny watching her color with her brow furrowed, eyes set in determination and her little tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth is adorable. As cute as she looks he needs to get out of this house before he ends up wasting the day on cleaning because that would be a tragedy. 

“Hey, Comet?” He shouts as he sniffs one of his discarded t-shirts and wrinkles his nose at the odor, tossing it back down onto the pile with a grunt.

“What daddy?”

“I was thinkin’, how about we go see Y/n at the bookstore today?”

Bucky hears something that sounds like a scream or a screech, maybe? He isn’t sure what happened, but he rushes back into the living room, sliding in on his sock-clad feet. The bright blue chair (teal chair as he’s been told several times) is laying on the ground and Ori is now sitting on the floor by the entryway, unharmed and slipping her shoes on.

She looks up at him and frowns in deep frustration. 

“Daddy!” She whines. “What are you doing? Get dressed. Y/n takes a break soon, and we can bring her a treat!”  

He blows a stuttering breath to cover the laugh he was failing to suppress. 

“Alright, ya little general. Give me ten minutes to change.” He looks down at the mess of glitter in front of him, puts his hands on his hips and looks back at Ori, “You think I can get Uncle Sammy to come over and clean up the house for me?”

“You’re not that cute daddy.”

-------

Bucky opted to take his car, which he rarely uses, thanks to the enormous toolbox he chose to bring with them. He isn’t the only one bringing gifts to Y/n’s shop today. Ori had her backpack full of drawing after drawing and every single one of her glitter crayons - all sixty-four were in her travel case stuffed into her bag. Because turquoise blue is way different from robin egg blue and she absolutely needs both. They park about a block away thanks to every other person that thought driving was a good idea today. Just a harsh reminder why Bucky never drives in the city. They stroll down the sidewalk, and Ori nervously tightens her grip on Bucky’s hand the closer they get to the shop.

“You okay, baby girl?” Bucky asks, looking down at her.

She shrugs looking down at the rainbow bow on top of her black tennis shoes. “What if she doesn’t like it?”

“I think she’s going to love anything you got her,” Bucky replied earnestly. “I know she’s going to like the picture you made her and I’m sure she’s gonna like the present you got her at the book fair.”

“I guess so…” Ori mumbles as they approach the star covered storefront. She looks up at the letters displaying the shop name and then to her dad, stepping behind him and holding his jeans in her small fist. 

“You go first.”

Bucky holds back a laugh for the second time today and brushes her curls out of her eyes to get a better look at her. She is the same shade of green Steve was when he asked Sam out for the first time. She’s really spending more time than she should with Uncle Stevie. Bucky holds the door open letting a large group of people shuffle out and giving Ori a second to calm down. They wander into the shop, Bucky pretends to drag his leg behind him as if Ori weighs a ton and his Oscar-worthy acting skills cause her to giggle despite her nerves.

The shop is fairly busy, but it probably has something to do with it being Friday and the sale Y/n has going on. The sign hanging in the front window reads something about getting fifty percent off a total purchase if you buy three or more books and clearly people are excited. Might not have been the best day for surprises. He’s never seen this many people in the shop before. It’s hard to determine where Y/n is thanks to the crowds that have taken over the shop. 

A few sweeps of his surroundings and he finds her sitting on her step ladder between two of the smaller bookcases that sat in front of the register. He stops for a few seconds, just to watch her and he can’t help but smile. She has a store full of customers, and what looks like several stacks of books she needs to put back on the shelves, and she is sitting on a stool with a book open on her lap reading. 

She’s reading in the midst of all this chaos. 

“Hey,” he calls softly. 

Y/n pulls her nose from her book and looks over the bookshelf to find Bucky standing on the other side, smiling fondly at her. A huge smile splits her face in two, and it makes his smile grow ten times brighter. She abandons whatever she was reading and slips it back on the shelf, giving Bucky her full attention.

“Hey, Mr. December,” She replies, snickering as she does.

“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?” Bucky groans, loudly, and hangs his head in shameful defeat.

“Nope.”

She walks around the shelves, and her beaming smile quickly turns into a frown when she spots Ori nervously standing behind Bucky’s legs. Ori’s never been nervous around her before, and Y/n’s mind instantly starts to race.  Had she done something to upset her? Was Ori mad that Bucky has been texting her on and off? One quick glance at Bucky for encouragement and she goes right into fix it mode.

“Hey, Ori,” Y/n tries, gently, squatting down to her level. “What’s going on here? What is this sad face all about?”

Ori looks up at Bucky who smiles and gives her a wink urging her on. 

“I got you somethin’,” she mumbles into the thick material of her dad’s pant leg.

“Oh, my stars! You didn’t have to get me anything, but I’m so excited to see what it is!” Y/n chirps, a huge smile on her face as she settles on her knees, carefully letting her dark blue A-line skirt flare out to hide her legs. The smile on Y/n’s face gives the little girl a small edge of confidence, and she slowly makes her way out from behind Bucky’s legs.

“Is it a spaceship? You know how much I want to go to space.”

“No. I can’t fit a spaceship in my backpack,” The little girl says with a giggle as she unzips her bright blue backpack. Y/n watches taking note of the beauty and the beast, book club and space themed patches Bucky had stitched onto the front. 

“You’re right.” Y/n says, nodding her head in agreement. “How silly of me.”

Ori pulls out the drawing she made this morning and hands it over with a tiny gift bag. Y/n grins as she looks over the picture in her hands. There are four different color planets in the middle that glitter in the lights of the shop, and Ori had left her a message. She carefully reads the words in Ori’s handwriting, ‘You are my favorite planet. I like you very much.’

Y/n looks up at Ori from her kneeling position and practically glows in response. Her eyes never leave the little girl as her fingers work the bag open. “You are my favorite constellation, and I like you very much.”

The faint blush on Ori’s chubby cheeks makes Y/n grin wider, she pulls out a small white piece of cardboard and flips it over in her hand, and her heart leaps. She’s had boyfriends who put fewer thoughts into a gift. Her silence must have made Ori nervous because she could hear soft mumbles coming from Bucky’s side as his hand worked through her curls. “I thought – you like space stuff and, and you have that book you write in…” 

She looks up at Ori and smiles clutching the space-themed paper clips to her chest like it’s the most precious thing she’s ever been given, and it is. 

“The little astronaut is my favorite. Or maybe it’s Saturn with the little star. I can’t decide. I love them, and I adore you. Thank you so much, sweet girl.” Ori flings herself at Y/n and wraps her arms around her neck, Bucky watches the two of them in awe.

“You’re welcome,” Ori whispers quietly.

Y/n squeezes her tightly for a few long moments and kisses the side of her head. 

“Want to go pick out a book, and we can read together for a minute and then you can help me decide where to hang my picture?” 

Ori nods and gives her one last squeeze before she takes off towards her chair at the back of the store, where her secret pile of books is stacked behind it. There is a long pause before Y/n can use her legs, she slowly rises to her feet holding onto her picture and her gift with gentle firmness for fear of misplacing them. Not that she would ever let them out of her sight long enough to lose them.

“Thank you for that,” Bucky mumbles softly, aware that Ori is somewhere in the store and kids can hear everything when they want to. “She was really nervous you wouldn’t like it.”

“Bucky…” Y/n sighs and clears her throat of the emotion that was bubbling up. “I loved it. It’s the best and most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten.” 

There was such a sincerity in Y/n’s voice that he suddenly found himself angry at whoever thought she wasn’t worth the effort. He wants to tell her that she deserves more than that and tell her how thankful he is to have her in his life and his daughter’s life, but he can tell she is struggling to keep her tears at bay, so he doesn’t say tell her now.

“What’s with the tools?” Y/n asks, curiously, ready to change the subject. “Are they props for your next photo shoot?”

His eyes narrow playfully, allowing her to change the subject without missing a beat, and he nods to the toolbox at his feet. “You’re gonna feel real bad for makin’ fun of me when I tell you that I’m fixin’ your door and that busted up front window.”

Her smile slowly fades, and her expression turns serious again. 

“I–” She stumbles over her tongue trying to gather her thoughts. “You don’t have to do that Bucky. You have enough on your plate and, and I’m sure you could be fixing things back at your place.”

“And you’ve given Ori how many free books?” Bucky challenges. “How many times have you closed the shop to spend time with her? I know it’s more than the two nights I know about. Let me do this for you. Believe it or not, I’m pretty handy, and the crack in the window is driving me nuts.” He huffs, frustration ringing loud and clear, his hand brushing his hair back out of his face.

“All your cool air is flying right out that little crack. It’s a waste of money,” Bucky gripes, goodnaturedly but it’s clear it’s bothering him. 

“And you got any idea how unsafe that is?”

Y/n giggles and shakes her head waving her hand to the front of the shop giving him permission to whatever he wants to - she had a feeling he was going to do it regardless of her permission anyway. 

“Alright, get to fixing it I guess. Starlight?” She calls through the shop and Ori comes bouncing around from her chair with a beaming grin on her face. “Dads gonna fix the door wanna help me with inventory?”

Ori’s eyes light up, and she rushes off towards Y/n’s office where the cart full of books is kept and yells back, “Yes, yes, yes!!!

-------

The day flew by weirdly fast. Before Bucky knew what was happening the sun had started to set, and the crowd of people had come and gone. There were waves of people in and out all day. At bits during the day, the shop was so full Bucky had to stop working and just hold the door open for the crowds. Then there were random quiet periods when the shop was nearly empty, and he could hear Ori and Y/n giggling through the quiet.

Those moments were his favorite.  

Bucky sets his tools behind the counter and strolls back into Y/n’s office. It was near closing time, they were only waiting on one last customer to finish up her browsing, and Y/n had Ori on her lap at her desk while they looked through her planner, crayons spread all over her desk. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his shoulder against the door frame, watching them.

“All done for the day?” Y/n asks not looking up from whatever they were coloring together. She didn’t need to, Y/n felt Bucky the moment he stepped into the doorway.

“Yeah, it’s all fixed.”

Y/n looks up and pouts at his empty arms. “Where is Timmy?”

He scowls as he glances back into the shop and then again at Y/n, “Who the hell is Timmy?”

“Um, your toolbox. Timmy the toolbox,” she says quickly, a slight frustration in her voice as if he should have known that Timmy was clearly a name for a toolbox and that she obviously would have spent time thinking about a name for the metal box, to begin with.

“You named my toolbox?” He asks, curious amusement filling his voice. Shit, she is cute sometimes, Bucky can’t help but think.

“I think the real shocker here is the fact that you had not named him up to this point,” She counters with a hint of disapproval, and he really doesn’t like disappointing her. Bucky chuckles quietly at the glare she’s shooting at him and throws his hands up in surrender. 

“I didn’t realize I had hurt the feelings of an inanimate object. I’ll apologize to Timmy.”

“See that you do.” 

She smiles triumphantly and turns her attention back to Ori who’s giggling away in her lap.

“How about after I apologize to Timmy we grab dinner?” Bucky offers, and Y/n quickly adds on. “I’m buying though!”

“What?” Bucky’s brows shoot up, and he shakes his head. “No, you’re not. How many books did you put in Ori’s bag today?” Y/n opens her mouth and quickly shuts up, her lips pressing into a thin line as she narrows her eyes.

“That’s not the point.” She whines, it’s hard for her to accept all this help from him. If anyone deserves to catch a break, it’s Bucky. Certainly not her. 

“You worked all day fixing the front door and then the window and don’t think I didn’t notice you came in and checked all the shelves and did that spackle thingy to the window that was leaking by Ori’s chair.”

“First of all, didn’t use spackle. That wouldn’t work on a wood frame doll.  Second of all, my time barely covers the amount of money you’ve lost in books,” Bucky replies, eyes filled with perseverance and his arms crossed back over his chest. He isn’t going to give in, and they both know it.

“Fine.” Y/n relents doing everything she can to hide her smile. She looks up just in time to see her last customer waiting at the register, so she hops up taking Ori with her. “You can buy dinner, but I get to pick where we eat, and I’m ordering two kinds of desserts.”

Bucky grins as he watches her skip back to the front of the shop Ori following right behind her matching her skip for skip. He chuckles quietly to himself and collapses into Y/n’s desk chair. The picture Ori drew was pinned up on the wall next to her desk, and Y/n had her planner out on the desk paper clips Ori had bought her at the book fair already in use. Y/n even let Ori add another movie night to next week’s agenda with bright purple glitter crayon.

“What did we do to deserve you?” He whispers softly.

The grin on his face slowly starts to fade, and his chest tightens when he sees what Y/n has scribbled onto Saturday night.

Dinner with Tony Stark. Masa @ 7pm

It hits him like a speeding truck knocking the breath right out of him. She has a date with Tony Stark. Bucky didn’t think Nat was really going to set them up.  He hastily looks back up at Y/n and Ori they are helping the young girl check out at the counter,  Ori is sitting on the wooden top laughing loudly at something Y/n is saying, scanning each book in Y/n’s hands and typing into the computer as Y/n directs her after each item.

Of course, he’s going to take her to Masa. Stark doesn’t do anything simple. Everything has to be flashy with him. Y/n probably won’t like all that flashy stuff. It’s stuffy there. Not that Bucky would know. He’s never been, and there was no way Bucky could ever afford to take anyone to Masa. There’s not a chance in hell he’s ever going to make enough money to spend a grand on some fancy dinner. Shit. Who is he kidding? She’s going to love it. Stark’s charming, handsome and could give her the best of everything.

If anyone deserves the best, it’s Y/n, but then again Stark didn’t have the best reputation. If he didn’t end up breaking her heart, which was more likely than not, his relationship with Y/n could affect her relationship with Ori. Bucky doubts Tony Stark’s idea of a fun night is watching Hotel Transylvania while eating pizza on the couch. However, if she wants to date him, as Y/n’s friend, Bucky has no choice but to support her-- even though he thinks it’s a terrible idea.

This is the worst idea and Bucky absolutely hates it.  

Previous // Next

[solecize]

.  .  .  𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑼𝑺  (PT17) |  

— — jung jaehyun is the beloved captain of your university’s basketball team. you’re a freshman in the school ballet company and somehow get roped into giving him dance lessons. the issue is that your brother is lee taeyong aka jaehyun’s on-court rival, who broke his little sister’s heart. that’s where you, revenge, and a little bet come into play.

MAY 23RD. 4:34 PM KST.

there was not a single trace of energy left in your body when you exited the doors to your usual thursday afternoon class. upon entering, you barely had any to begin with. it all had to do with the restless prior night of tossing and turning with all kinds of thoughts running through your mind during these ungodly hours. it was, embarrassingly, not the first time that the thoughts of jung jaehyun caused you to lose sleep. however, this time was far different than the ones you’d once spent when questioning your feelings towards him. now, you were questioning his feelings towards you.

the text from sicheng was basically engraved in your memory at this point. you wanted to believe that you were overreacting like lucas suggested and that it was probably just a misunderstanding like sooyoung suggested. as soon as you saw the text on his phone last night, jaehyun immediately returned and announced that he had to go home early because he had a morning practice. there wasn’t a chance that emerged for you to be able to bring the text up, but it wasn’t like you had the guts to in the first place. therefore, you resorted to basically dragging yourself everywhere since you spent all of your energy on thinking about this.

gnawing on the straw to your caramel coloured iced coffee (your third for the day), you took a moment to break in your steps and scroll through the notifications through your phone. seven o’clock dance rehearsal was cancelled—thank god because you were too fucking exhausted to function as a human being, much less dance. lucas sent you memes. taeyong sent you a video of the family cat. nothing too exciting and you noticed that there wasn’t much from jaehyun since the morning. 

all of a sudden, your phone started buzzing and an incoming call screen replaced your text history with jaehyun. it was doyoung. without thinking much of it, you picked up and on the other end was the basketball player’s cheery voice.

“y/n!” he said, but something was odd. it was as if he was right there with you.

a quick scan around the vicinity wasn’t much of a help. you squinted, looking far out into the corridor to see if he was there and then poked your head around the corner. there, just beyond, was indeed doyoung with sicheng by his side. the appearance of sicheng made you nervous, but you told yourself that it was best that you would at least try to ignore it.

you quickly walked up to the both of them, while they noticed you immediately. doyoung’s mouth widened into a grin and he promptly hung up the call. sicheng waved enthusiastically. 

“hey! jaehyun told us that you’d probably be here,” doyoung said. “we were going to head to that mexican place and since you liked it so much last time, we were gonna invite you to go with us.”

despite your extreme fatigue, you concluded that an hour or two out with friends wasn’t going to hurt. how worse could you mood become when you were already irritated and tired as hell? you shifted your book bag on your shoulder, smiling in appreciation.

you answered, “you know what? i think i’d love that.” sicheng and doyoung high fived at this, which made you giggle. it was nice to be accepted in their friend group so quickly after hanigng out with jaehyun—you had to thank johnny for that, even if you did hang out with the others more. in fact, you noticed that, ever since that first casual outing, johnny seemed to avoid you up until you took him to the hospital. however, you didn’t think anything of it, since he at least sometimes interacted with you while you were with jaehyun or lucas.

the three of you began to walk and make your way out of the building. “you know. .  .” you couldn’t help yourself. “i thought you guys might have practice or something. finals with ku is coming up really fast.” the boys had won their semi-finals game that last tuesday, which was no big surprise, and everyone was gearing up for the finals for the national title. the school was hyped and the team was grinding, but according to taeyong, so was his team. he told you that his team had been struggling lately due to injuries and he personally had been having a hard time because of your recent arguments but it seemed like they were ready the fight to jaehyun’s team.

basketball was the reason that you settled on for jaehyun’s lack of messages and calls. you assumed that he would be working out with the team or practicing. it worried you a little bit, as he’d usually be the type to text you freely when he wasn’t busy. you told yourself to shove it all down, since it was way too early in the relationship to be feeling so . . .clingy.

“yeah, we had one this morning and we’re doing a team workout tonight,” sicheng explained, but he saw the look on your face. your emotions were transparent. “is something wrong?”

you blinked. “oh. oh, nothing at all.” the lie was painfully obvious.

doyoung frowned, taking a closer look at you, as well. “y/n, you kinda don’t look okay. have you been getting enough sleep?”

this was probably your best chance to confront sicheng about the text message. but, looking at the way the two men met your eyes, you felt the words become stuck in your throat. it was too much.

“you can talk to us, you know,” sicheng said.

you took a deep breath. you weren’t sure how to phrase it, so the question came out stranger than intended. 

you bit your lip. “is everything okay with jaehyun?”

doyoung cocked an eyebrow at you, not quite seeing what you were getting at. “yeah, he is? he’s been a little stressed with finals coming up, but he’s doing better than any of us ever could, that’s for sure.”

“he’s good? you guys haven’t noticed him doing anything, um, suspicious?”

the two basketball players attempted to look neutral to the question, but you swore that there was just a half second of panic painted on sicheng’s face. that’s when you knew something was up. 

“i saw a strange message on his phone last night. .  .” you admitted, looking down at your feet. one of them cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. 

doyoung and sicheng were the best out of the serpent starters. you loved lucas, but they were a definite refresher in terms of friendship. johnny only talked to you sometimes until his injury. meanwhile, the former two were just complete balls of sunshines. they were unapologetically themselves and were very open about welcoming you into the friend circle. from that point, they treated you like anyone else. you just hoped that it would also apply to this situation.

sicheng understood what you were talking about instantly and his expression turned upset. “maybe this isn’t something we should discuss here.” it was rare for the chinese student to get serious and you felt it here, seeing his eyes downcast.

“what? is this about jaehyun?” doyoung asked all of a sudden.

seeing that doyoung guessed correctly and sicheng didn’t want to talk about it in public, you only assumed the worse. he was probably having second thoughts on having you as his girlfriend. he realized that he didn’t want to be tied down. he didn’t like your family. or worse—jaehyun had someone else.

you had to stifle a gasp at that thought. you had yet to consider the possibility of there being another person, but you were shocked at just how painful that thought was. there was no way in hell.

“is it about her?” doyoung said to sicheng, as if having their own side conversation, but your heart dropped at that sentence. who was her? did it have to do with the texts? what did that have to do with the texts?

sicheng hissed, “shut up.”

the two of them turned back to you, both looking as if they were uncomfortable children forced to go to a family party. doyoung opened his mouth to speak, but found no words. meanwhile, sicheng started to stutter his words and scratched the back of his nape.

“i think you should talk to lucas. i don’t want to be the one that tells you.”

sicheng rubbed his forehead and distress glowed in his eyes. the same went for doyoung, whose expression closed up. something told you that they didn’t want to tell you this, but had to.

this was it. that only proved that something was truly wrong and your gut feeling was right. they both looked at you with pity in their eyes, having finally succumbed to telling you the truth. they were the ones who’d grown so attached to you that they didn’t want to see you hurt, though this was inevitable. everything up until this point was, indeed, fateful.

lucas hated it, but you basically knew everything about him. it stemmed from the years long friendship that you two shared. it was one full of long summer nights spent talking on the roof of his parents’ house. the short-lived relationship that ended only because you wanted the best for each other and dating was not that. one full of honesty and trust.

he and sooyoung, both a year older than you, moved in together at the end of the last school year. since you spent more time over at their shared apartment than in your tiny, first-year dorm room, you knew their entry passcode by heart. it was somewhat late at night at this point, around ten thirty, but you knew that lucas had some big assignment that he locked himself in the whole day to finish. 

“i’m here,” you announced loudly, hearing your voice echo throughout as soon as you stepped in through the front door. there was a muffled response, but you already knew that it was lucas and that it was only him because sooyoung’s set of keys were missing from the holders on the wall.

slipping off your sneakers, you spotted lucas on his laptop and sitting at their small dining table. he had his reading glasses on, a stained hoodie from your high school, and his laptop was out. by the looks of the scattered instant noodle bowls, he had definitely not left the apartment all day.

sicheng’s advice scared you. how could there possibly be something that lucas knew that you didn’t? you wanted to go to jaehyun yourself, you didn’t understand why you were redirected to him. however, as you began to think about it more on your way, you realized that lucas was starting to act a bit strange lately. he’d been talking to you less, but you attributed it to school work and the competitive basketball post-season.

he casually glanced up at you. “hey. are you gonna crash here tonight?” it wasn’t rare for you to just randomly sleep over. “sooyoung’s out partying with her cheer friends or something.”

your hands became slick with perspiration. it was hard for you to get nervous with lucas, as it was practically useless when he would see right through you and demand that you get straight to the point. like always, he saw this immediately and slowly took off his glasses.

“what is jaehyun hiding from me?”

just like that, you got straight to the point. it’d been killing you ever since and to be frank, you were beyond the point of exhaustion. that, however, didn’t mean that you actually wanted to hear what you were about to hear. 

the month had been a whirlwind. you were randomly thrown in as a dance teacher to jung jaehyun, someone who was simply a background person to the rest of your life. and before you even knew it, everything changed. he became a supporting character. life was funny like that and you were grateful that it was jaehyun. you never thought that it would be, but even though your relationship was in the beginning stages, it was hard to imagine everyday life without his laugh, his dry humour, his passion. it was hard to remember what it was like without waking up to his texts and going to sleep with his sweet voice ringing in your ears. 

lucas paled. the look on his face was pained and you saw the way he ran his hand through his hair, as he always did when he was hiding something.

“is it another girl?” a stupid question, probably. your poor judgement was clouded by desperation to know the answer and fatigue.

“what? no. i—” his lips pressed into a thin line. “you should probably sit down for this.”

something made it difficult to keep your voice steady. “so, whatever this is, you’ve been hiding from me, too.” lucas stood up from his chair, walking towards you, but you took a step away. “just tell me. jaehyun makes me happy, i know you were reluctant at first and i want to know why you didn’t just support me outright.”

he looked down at his feet. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“just tell me.”

it was storming when you stepped outside. each raindrop felt like a bullet. leaving lucas’ apartment that night with stiff eyelids and a scratchy throat—caused by nearly everything from screaming to crying—was the hardest feeling that you’d ever had to endure in your life.  “how could you allow someone to just hurt me like that? you’re my best friend.” were the final words you told lucas before slamming the door on his face. he told you that he didn’t mean to hurt you, that he didn’t want to be the one responsible for you to get hurt again. it was all bullshit and none of it made sense. jaehyun won his bet.

you hated it, but you realized that you didn’t know everything about lucas. or jaehyun. or anyone.

tag list: @i-hate-these-people @glitterystanz @jkuwus @jenojae  @csillagosegnelkul @imtaehyungry @theloouiisee @ikonictaelien @knisterlicht @seungkwanismyaesthetic @jaemingold @xysabella @sua246 @ireallyjustneedcoffee @p-platonica @just-a-dream-40@fuckthatfeeling @softyfor-sweaterpaws @nshitae @nerdymoneykidcroissant

[nozomikei]

Good Vibrations

☆Nsfw☆

Zenos x Ambiguous Wol

Aymeric x Ambiguous Wol

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Pretty sure I posted this once before, but I can't remember and I can't find it without the search function, so you all get to enjoy this ficlet again! Made some very minor changes too tonight. ^_^

_______________________________________

You squirmed nervously in your seat at the Rising Stones, your hot face hidden intermittently by your mug while you tried to read a tome on Kugane.

After your latest tryst with Zenos the man had given you a device, imperiously instructing you to wear it until you saw him next. It was a small enough thing and a brief examination gave you a clue as to where it should be worn - his smirk in response to your suspicious glance all but confirming it. You nearly refused just to frustrate him but your curiousity and lingering satisfaction at his hands (and mouth) won out. He had watched you put it in place as you dressed to leave, a smouldering blue gaze that nearly had you stripping again before your senses took hold and you made your escape.

[[MORE]]

Although it was an unusual sensation to have something in you this way for so long, thus far nothing unusual had happened in the day since you had left the monster's side, and you had about concluded that it was some strange Garlean fetish and nothing more. Still, the knowledge that you were wearing such a lewd thing given to you by your enemy (your friend, your lover) here in the heart of the Scion's territory had you on edge.

Nerves too frazzled to take it anymore you stood to leave, intending to check out some of the details mentioned in your book (and perhaps to try to get away from the tension your location was causing you). No sooner had you straightened your legs than they gave out as a sudden vibration from within you began. Sitting stunned and quite unexpectedly aroused by the sensation you almost failed to respond to Riol's question on your wellness in a timely manner, but you thought you choked out a mostly normal sounding 'Just got to a good part...' as no further questions followed.

What exactly had Zenos given you?! You should have known it wasn't as innocent (to be fair the location it was worn was hardly wholesome) as it appeared.

As soon as the supremely distracting vibrations had stopped you attempted once more to escape, this time more successfully, though you went to your estate instead of the Far East. The moment you reached your room you began pulling off your bottoms to remove the devilish device. You hesitated to simply place it on a table and eventually begrudgingly took it to the washroom to clean it before you plopped it down to receive your glower. After only a few minutes of intense glares it resumed its vibrations (you were glad nobody was around to witness you nearly falling out of your chair as you reared back), slowly moving across the table with the buzz. The memory of the... pleasant... sensation it had created earlier, and the fact that it had done you no harm that you could discern, had you blushingly pushing it back into place, the vibrations having yet to cease.

It felt even better than before now that you knew what to expect and you made your way haltingly to your bed. Irritatingly the vibrations chose that moment to stop and you let out a curse knowing that it could only be Zenos behind the controls of this thing. Before you could get yourself too worked up it turned back on, though this time it started and stopped in intervals, the pacing of which reminded you of your meeting with Zenos the previous night. In fact, it seemed to be exactly mimicking it. The bastard almost certainly knew you would recognize the patterns he had forcefully taught your body, had probably calculated that you would retire to somewhere more private following the initial surprise. A genius and master tactician putting his skills to work on such a thing was suddenly hilarious and you laughed around your panting. Well fine, if he was going to goad you to this you saw no reason to resist. Settling into your pillows you reached down and let yourself be taken away by pleasure.

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

The next time the Garlean demon struck, you were seated in the church in Ishgard. Aymeric and Lucia had invited you to attend their newly restructured masses, and you were happy to do so if it meant more time with your busy friends. Sandwiched between the two on the pews and the priest mid sermon it was all you could do not to leap from your seat when the cursed vibrations began. After the last time you had thoroughly conditioned yourself and knowing what they buzzes were and who was causing them, what he was probably doing at this moment himself, your mind was thoroughly clouding over with pleasure as well as panic. You thought you were doing rather well controlling your breathing after the initial surprise, but you could feel your face filling with heat, the warmth migrating to your ears and neck as well, and you were subtly shaking with the effort not to squirm or touch yourself.

Something must have eventually given you away though since about five minutes of pleasurable agony in Lucia leaned over and smirkingly whispered, "A Garlean lover, hm?" Perhaps the tech somehow interacted with her third eye, but regardless of how she knew, you were humiliated (and strangely turned on; look at how that monster had twisted Eorzea's Warrior of Light). After another minute she again leaned over to whisper, though this time she let you know that she would cover you if you left at the next break in the mass.

Stumbling out of the main hall it was all you could do to find a darkened alcove and shove your hand between your legs and bring yourself to completion embarrassingly fast. The wrongness of such a thing happening in a church, the public setting, the need to try to act normal instead of melting into a moaning mess all combined into an overwhelming, sinful pleasure you couldn't resist.

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

You were starting to think there was some sort of tracking device built into this thing.

You were at dinner with Aymeric that evening following the nightmarish (exhilirating) mass, finished with the main meal and now reduced to sipping wine and nibbling the delicious dessert that had been provided by the exceedingly handsome lord. The wine was just beginning to make itself felt when something else did as well. By this point you were constantly on guard and expecting Zenos to employ his evil device at the worst possible times and so at least managed to give no sign that something lewd had begun. You were as affected as before but managed to initially pass off your odd behavior as side effects of the wine when Aymeric had inquired. The lord's questions had grown increasingly personal and his demeanor more romantic as the hours wore on and your arousal deepened.

Zenos had made it clear that he had no expectations of exclusivity so when Aymeric had asked if he could kiss you, you had no reservations about nearly diving around the table to give your answer. Somehow the inappropriateness of your insides being secretly massaged at the hands of one man while passionately kissing another was electifyingly hot and you worried for a moment that you would scare Aymeric off, but he took your passion in stride and met it with equal fervor.

Eventually he called a halt to your joint exchange citing the late hour and newness of your open 'relationship', (the torture device fortuitously also giving you a rest) and invited you to stay in one of the spare rooms.

You were just leaving the washroom with your face still damp around the edges, still terribly aroused but restraining yourself until you got into your borrowed bed when you heard a noise from a few doors down. Your curiousity had you walking closer almost before you realized it. The door was not quite closed and this close you could hear the unmistakable sounds of Ishgard's Lord of Lords pleasuring himself. The desperate gasps of your name mixed among choked moans, shaky breaths, and the wet noises of a hand stroking a lubed up dick almost instantly had you weak kneed and slumping against the wall. You came before Aymeric did and hurried back down to the washroom, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel embarrassed knowing you had been close to the the edge after struggling with two highly pleasurable inputs at once. Loudly shutting the door and making your way to your room you settled in and quickly passed out, exhausted from the day's events.

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

By the Twelve, did Zenos ever sleep?!

First thing in the morning you were awoken by an insistent buzzing inside, but it ended almost as soon as it began and you drifted back to sleep. Sometime later the same happened but you decided to stay up, puzzled by the change.

Breakfast with Aymeric was a sweet, blush filled affair interspersed with tense minute long bursts of activity from Zenos. Your companion's reddened ears made you wonder if he hadn't realized his error regarding the door at some point, though he did an admirable job at acting normally otherwise. There were more kisses before you left the handsome lord to take care of a variety of tasks you had gathered for yourself as the Warrior of Light.

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

Zenos was an ass and you were going to kill him. Or make him beg for release and then kill him.

Sadistic monster that he was, Zenos had kept up the short bursts of vibrations the entire day and you were certain you would go mad from the torture. You would have taken care of yourself already but you had gotten the coded signal from Zenos on your linkshell shortly after you left Ishgard and the day of a tryst following the signal neither of you was supposed to cum before you met up. You could always violate the agreement but where was the fun in giving in first when greater satisfaction was on the horizon?

[reassambled-dragoon]

OC Questions: Storm Dancer

@starrypawz posted this, and it’s too damn good for me to pass up. BECAUSE IT’S LOOOOONG, IT’S UNDER ZEE CUT

On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

-She keeps herself clean, but becoming Eorzea’s Next Top Model is about as high on her list of priorities as shooting for Emperor of Garlemald. AIN’T HAPPENING.

What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

-SPICY SPICY FEED HER SPICY SHE FUCKING LOVES IT. She’s a 7′3″ brick wall of Hellsguard who leads a very active lifestyle, trust me, give her All The Food and let her roll. She burns through calories like nobody’s business (especially in the Warrior of Light verse).

What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

-FUCK. ISHGARDIAN. HIGH HOUSE. POLITICS. WITH A RUSTY JACKHAMMER. AND FUCK GRIDANIA TOO WHILE YOU’RE AT IT. (Her family was from the outskirts of Ala Mhigo. She gets a pass, okay? Kann-e Senna lovers DO NOT INTERACT)

What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

-Screw just giving them money, she’d get them some nice warm clothes, blankets, and take them to dinner so she can find out exactly what they need and help them out.

Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

-Not very easily, but when she does, she looks for her own trail again (and if she gets caught in a sandstorm or blizzard or some such, she finds shelter and PARKS IT until the storm passes).

What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

-Someone hurting her family/friends/allies. If the enemy throws the first punch, she’s so beyond done playing nice.

Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at their own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a  smiley face painted on?

-Absofuckinglutely.

If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically.

-”Fuck you, fuck this, fuck everything.” -sets it on fire and walks away-

What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

-Petty? Oh, if anyone shoots their mouths off about war refugees. Pointlessly cruel? I’m not sure she’s capable of that.

On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

-”Oh no you don’t, there’re people back home that need me, so either you come back and lend a hand, or--oh, you need my help? Fine, listen here, you want my help, you help me.”

What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

-...look listen whoever brought the Baby Shark song to Storm’s attention is directly responsible for this damn mess.

What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors?

-SHAMELESSLY VAULTS OFF ANY AND EVERY HIGH SURFACE BECAUSE DRAGOON, BITCH

Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

-dear sweet zombie jesus how much booze did she have this Heavensturn

What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for?

-Storm has no idea why the hell her dad insists on calling himself Old Man but here we are.

How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

-She’s gotten clonked a few times when the Echo hits, but that was when she was younger.

How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so?

-WoL Storm basically adopted all of the core Scions as well as Arenvald (and yes, that includes the Levilleur twins, no it doesn’t include Papalymo because he’s Storm’s age), so you friggin’ tell me. RP Storm has a tendency to adopt every stray she finds. I SEE NO DIFFERENCE. Honestly the worst thing is like, someone like Thancred arguing that he’s only ten years younger than she is so she’s not allowed to be his mother, to which she calmly says the next time he sasses her he’s grounded.

How does your OC sabotage themselves?

-Storm refuses to admit she needs help until she’s literally on the ground unable to move.

What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it?

-a really hideously ugly oh my god why does this exist and who got the knitter that damn drunk Starlight sweater. She still has it because everyone’s reactions to it add years to her life, okay?

How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this?

-Storm just stares you dead in the eye as she downs a glass of whiskey and chases it with a massive mug of coffee.

What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

-She usually smells pretty clean unless she’s been fighting or working hard. As soon as she’s able, she takes a shower or a bath. If her gear is dirty, she cleans it inside and out. Probably the grossest items she has are her boots and gloves, though she does her best to keep the insides from getting narsty. Usually Storm smells a bit like good leather and maybe a hint of good whiskey and coffee. (Hey, just because she doesn’t want to be a model, that doesn’t mean she’s going to wallow in offal and gunk.)

[cryptidcommander]

All the numbers for Var? >:3ccc

1. On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

Varellias bathes, that’s it. She hates getting stuff on her skin.

2. What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

She’s really fond of fruits and vegetables- she can eat meat, but she won’t unless forced to. (Cooked meat or just meat in general reminds her too mch of Risen and Forged.) Her favorite foods tend to be those that aren’t too overwhelming in flavour; after all those solo trips out in Orr and Maguuma and often having to go without food for the night in the interest of mantaining supplies, her stomach isn’t built for anything too fatty or rich. Porridge, salads and fruits are okay, soup is fine, but anything else runs the risk of her throwing up.

3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

Hmm… I don’t think she has any pet peeves actually, she’s pretty chill. 

4. What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

She would give it, she has way too much money on her hands. The only thing that would make her hesitate is if the one asking is showing obvious signs of using the money for less than acceptable causes, but generally she just gives it.

5. Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

For a ranger, Varellias has horrible navigation skills. At the very least when she’s outside she can usually take to high ground to figure out where she is (she’s a very good climber) but in buildings or airships?? She can be staring at a map and still get lost.

6. What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

The people she cares about. If they were threatened, or hurt, or in danger, or even if they just ask… She’d once almost doomed the world for her best friend. She has unhealthy levels of devotion.

7. Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at thier own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a smiley face painted on?

Well, yeah! She has a lot of pets, practically raised Taimi, took good care of Aurene. She’s a solid A+ choice for a babysitter, whatever she’s taking care of would be the safest thing in the world.

8. f your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically.

Probably badly if she only had one night to prep, but I can’t see her caring all too much anyway. 

9. What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

Grudges, and again, if it relates to the people she cares about.

10. On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

“Breaks out and utterly destroys the spaceship she was in”.

11. What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

She never sings, but she can be persuaded to hum and whistle “Don’t fear the night”.

12. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbours?

What do you mean, normal people don’t trap the area around them before going to sleep? It’s just common sense!!

13. Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

A dare. She takes promises very seriously.

14. What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for?

Why did the Pale Tree never offer more support to Caithe or Trahearne or Canach? Didn’t she notice that they weren’t doing well? Varellias is… not sure if she can forgive her mother for that, and for what happened in Heart of Thorns. It’s strained their previously close relationship heavily.

15. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

VERY RARELY. She’s incredibly focused, and her mind isn’t likely to wander.

That said… She was basically unresponsive after Heart of Thorns. Her body was going on autopilot while her mind was near cataconic- she did things numbly, couldn’t focus, wandered in a fog. It took her a very while to recover, and in that period of time her friends had to step up to keep her out of trouble.

16. How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened becuase of thier Impulsivity or inability to be so? 

 Varellias actually has pretty decent impulse control for a commander- but she only has it as The Commander. Outside of battle her impulse is basically “ride or die!”. Ask anyone about The Commander and they would say that she’s an amazing coolheaded fighter, and then ask anyone about Varellias, and they’d tell you about how she jumped out of the Pale Tree’s chamber last week and crashed into Canach like a missile. 

17. How does your OC sabotage themselves? 

 Not sure how to answer this question, but she does have the habit of pulling her punches when fighting more mundane threats outside dragons/gods, which has on more than one occasion caused her to take far more severe injuries than she would have otherwise taken. 

 18. What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it? 

 It’s the Starborn Outfit, which she has been wanting to set on fire for a while now. The only reason she’s keeping it is because (1) the rest of the DW keeps stopping her, those traitors and (2) it was a gift. She last tried it on when it was given to her and never again. 

19. How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this? 

 She’s staying hydrated! Gotta water the plant! 

 20. What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was thier last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent? 

 Thanks to being a Sylvari, Varellias has a pretty distinctive scent. It changes slightly depending on her surroundings, but the majority of the time she generally smells either like crushed rosemary or grass after the rain. Tried perfume once during a social event when Kas offered, but it just clashed with her natural odor too much to be worth using.

[md-admissions]

Hey there, idk if your Australian or if anyone who follows here is BUT I wanted to ask a question. This maybe be dumb and NEGATIVE AF but are you allowed/legally to be a doctor if you are diagnosed with depression? Can other people know? Do you have to tell them? Does it even make sense to want to this? I just don’t know who to ask or who to go to about this

Hi there anon!

This is a good question, in light of two public US celebrity suicides, one of which I feel very personally because Anthony Bourdain is my hero and the inspiration for this blog.

Doctors, in the media and the public, are portrayed as inhuman: rebellious, eccentric bad boys and girls who push psychological buttons in a near sociopathic manner or are emotionless professionals dressed in white coats who watch families fall apart and scream without even batting an eyelash. Historically, doctors failed themselves, their inheritors, and their patients with paternalist practices and the development of a culture claiming impervious omniscience. The theory and the stereotype is that we don’t feel, or at least not as much as the next person. And that’s the problem: we feel so much throughout the days and years and we’re told that we need to suck it up, get over it, or that we have no “right” to mental illness.

The law is the least of our problems. Legally you can practice medicine, fly a commercial airplane, run a multimillion dollar handbag empire, design haute couture, write books and travel the world, produce films and cook if you’re depressed.

Medicine is embarrassingly, hypocritically outdated in its willingness to lead the fight for mental health transparency and provision of resources. You said it yourself when you asked, “Can other people know? Do you have to tell them?” If we have to ask, we know that the answers aren’t being called out loudly or clearly enough. Medicine says too timidly that it is okay for people to know.

Every person I know in medicine has experienced the suicide of colleagues. Not a colleague. Pleural. Consider that. Ask your friends outside of medicine sometime if they have had that experience; many probably have. Medical students and residents are at double the risk of the general population to develop depression, but prior to starting their careers their risk is equivalent.

Medicine needs to own up and speak up about the rampant prevalence of mental illness in our profession. It can be lethal. It is killing our future colleagues too soon and taking away our elder statesmen, our role models.

How about I go first? I was absolutely depressed for the first two years of med school. I wouldn’t be here without my psychologist. In college, there were nights when I would lay in bed, hoping that I wouldn’t wake up the next morning. Three classmates ended their own life in med school; in residency I two more.

I’m not a lesser person or physician for struggling with my inner demons; the real crime is the current medical culture’s refusal to admit that the institutions in place have diminishing returns and it is time for change. Back massages, ice cream cones, crazy socks, and offhand comments about millennial privilege are not going to keep young people with potential, empathy, and drive from ending their lives. It’s time to be role models for ourselves and the general public. It’s not really the laws that confine medical professionals from declaring their mental illnesses; it’s an unsupportive internal culture with a hypocritical view of its practitioners as immune to mental illness when really we are an at-risk population that needs intervention.

I will fucking spend my life calling this out if I have to.

[souliloquyyy]

Meet The Cast: Infinity & Delta

@gottaenjoythelittlethingzz tagged me! Thank you!!

I’ll be doing this with Infinity (Fin) and Delta, the twin MCs from Rules For The End Of The World!

1. On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s skincare routine?

It’s pretty darn involved for both of them. They absolutely love makeup and that stuff. I, however, do not. So it’s a struggle to write. Which is why I’m not going to attempt to explain their skincare routines.

2. What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Infinity definitely likes soft, warm sweets like cupcakes and brownies. She has a major sweet tooth. There’s not really a reason, she just does. She isn’t super strict about how/when she eats, but she’s definitely the kind of person who doesn’t use a plate if she doesn’t have to.

Delta, while she enjoys sweets like everyone else on the planet, prefers spicy and crunchy foods. She likes chips and salsa. She likes eating raw jalapenos and other hot peppers. Delta will snack all day long if given the opportunity, and, like her sister, rarely uses plates or utensils.

3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

Delta gets annoyed when people don’t understand anarchy or talk about government in front of her.

Fin gets annoyed when people assume she is also an anarchist. She hates people assuming anything about her, honestly.

4. What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

Infinity would not give them money but would buy them food or something. She’s one of those people who doesn’t like giving money because she’s worried about how it will be used. But she’ll buy them food, clothes, whatever they need. She’s not heartless, just cautious.

Delta would probably pretend not to notice them. She’s not a very sympathetic person and thinks people should deal with their issues themselves rather than ask for help.

5. Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

Neither of them gets lost more easily than anyone else, though they do get lost occasionally. They live in a big city, it’s not hard to lose your way. What they do when they get lost is a different question, though. Infinity would stop and ask someone for directions, while Delta would wander around aimlessly until she figures out how to get where she’s going.

6. What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

Honestly, this is a big part of Infinity’s story. She has two Right Things but can only choose one. And whichever she doesn’t choose will end badly. But it’s kinda spoilers. So I can’t really say. However, I will say one thing that will make her hesitate is if it puts her sister in danger. Despite their differences, they’re really close and would do anything for each other.

A lot of things would stop Delta from doing the Right Thing. She’d do whatever would benefit her or her sister.

7. Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at their own house/battle-camp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a smiley face painted on?

Infinity would end up forgetting about the kid at some point, so no, not really. She might be able to do a dog, but again, probably not. She could totally take care of a houseplant, though. She has a bunch of succulents and cactuses. She could definitely take care of a rock and would probably enjoy it too.

Delta is surprisingly good with kids and would probably be able to keep one alive for a week, though not much longer. She doesn’t like animals so that’s a no. She could take care of a houseplant, though she wouldn’t want to. However, she does have one succulent that she’s kept alive for a few months. It was a birthday present from Infinity. She would be capable of caring for a rock, but she would not enjoy it.

8. If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  Both emotionally and academically.

They’d both be pretty chill about it, especially Delta. Infinity would be a bit stressed out, but she’d manage pretty well. They would do okay, grade-wise, but not amazingly. Probably about average.

9. What would cause your OC to choose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

Infinity would only do it for no reason in a joking manner or to someone she doesn’t like. Otherwise, it would take a lot to make her be mean to someone. She’s a peacemaker.

Delta would also only do it to someone she doesn’t like, but she doesn’t like most people, so, realistically, she’d be mean to just about anyone.

10. On a scale of “Complete and justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by aliens?

Infinity would be freaking out on the inside but be totally chill on the outside.

Delta would think it was cool and would totally Conquer The Entire Galaxy.

11. What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond excited and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

One of Delta’s favorite bands is Fall Out Boy, and her favorite song by them is Young And Menace (she also adores Centuries). She would totally rock out to both of those anywhere and anytime, no matter who is nearby. And she would not be embarrassed at all. She also really likes Fugitive by Halflives.

Fin likes How To Be A Heartbreaker by MARINA and would, like Delta, rock out to it anywhere, anytime, and not be shy about it.

12. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors?

Delta’s belief in anarchy annoys and honestly scares the neighbors, and Fin’s pastel-grunge aesthetic confuses them. The girls are just super weird and their neighbors hate them for it.

13. Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

Both of them would probably do it out of spite or because of a dare.

14. What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for?

Name them Infinity and Delta. They like the names, they just wish they could explain them better.

15. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

Delta rarely zones out.

Infinity zones out way too often. She has a very intense inner dialogue going all the time, so she gets lost in thought whenever she’s not required to pay attention, and sometimes even when she is required to pay attention. The problems can be pretty severe, for instance, zoning out while driving a car has nearly gotten her into a few accidents. Zoning out during school has gotten her into a lot of trouble with her teachers.

16. How strong or weak is your OC’s impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their impulsivity or inability to be so?

Both of them are incredibly impulsive and have practically no impulse control. I can’t think of the worst thing that happened because of this, because there are so many, but they’ve both gotten in a lot of fights with other people and have jumped into dangerous situations that could have ended in severe injuries or even death.

17. How does your OC sabotage themselves?

Delta argues with literally everyone to the point where literally everyone hates her, which gets her into a TON of trouble and danger for which she can only blame herself.

Fin does the same thing with her sarcasm, but not quite as bad because she’s only joking whereas Delta is not.

18. What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it?

I literally don’t know anything about clothing, so I can’t really answer this. But they both love fashion so they probably don’t have any trashy clothing items.

19. How dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this?

Fin is Super Healthy and always carries a bottle of water with her, so she is not dehydrated in the least bit.

Delta doesn’t go out of her way to drink water just for the purpose of being healthy, but she’s always thirsty so she’s always drinking water, so she’s pretty much always hydrated.

20. What’s your OC smell like? No, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically. Body odor? What have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Seeing as it’s the end of the world and they don’t really have the time for deoderant and perfume, they both probably smell pretty bad. They showered at least a day or two ago, but they still have access to showers so they’re not super gross. Fin likes perfume and would wear it if she had the time, but, you know, end of the world and whatnot.

Thank you again to @gottaenjoythelittlethingzz for tagging me!

I’m going to tag literally anyone who wants to do this! Go ahead and say that I tagged you; I’d love to come read about your characters!

[kijiboop]

Meet the Scene: Hunter

All questions taken from a survey found here. Tagging folks: @genevievedarcygranger @lucifers-trash-stash @vizhi0n @lissachan504 @gh0stboy @feyundead @themildestofwriters

Marek | Elle | Bitch | Lucien | Steve

On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine? -- Most of his cleaning routine is limited to showering and shaving unless there’s an event he needs to plan for. When it comes to applying makeup, Hunter does better on someone else than himself due to extensive practice in the theater. He is also known to forget to take makeup off at the end of the day and wake up the next morning looking like a raccoon.

What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way? -- Hunter and vegetables have a hate/hate relationship. He will eat green things under duress or if someone he loves has cooked for him but will not choose them for himself. He tends toward sweet/salty mixes and has been known to devour a family-sized bag of pretzel M&Ms in a single movie. He will never pass up breakfast food and is partial to waffles with lots of butter and syrup.

What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC? -- Out-of-tune music. While he doesn’t sing personally, Hunter has an ear for music and always hears when someone is out of tune or if an instrument needs adjusting. For him, the jarring sense of mistuned music is like nails on a chalkboard and he cannot stand intentionally atonal music.

What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person? -- Usually a wide-eyed stare and a somewhat terrified headshake. Hunter deals very poorly with being approached by people he doesn’t know.

Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost? -- On his own, Hunter gets lost very easily. He knows this about himself and does his best to never go somewhere new alone. He thankfully knows how to read a map and can swallow his social anxiety long enough to ask for directions.

What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation? -- His own indecisiveness. Hunter doesn’t trust his own judgement and relies on others to tell him if he’s out of line. If someone told him to sit down and shut up, he would even if he doesn’t agree with the morality of that person’s actions.

Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a  smiley face painted on? -- Hunter has several pet rocks and is very fond of them. They’re all named and he occasionally moves them around the apartment to get better sun. He does this in place of caring for anything alive because he believes he’d kill it dead within 24 hours. He’s probably wrong but isn’t confident enough to try.

If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically. -- Hunter would melt down and start to cry after trying to study for an hour. He does not do well under intense academic pressure and probably wouldn’t even show up for the test.

What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel? -- Hunter might say something catty or petty, but he never means it and usually apologizes immediately. Cruelty isn’t in his nature.

On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens? -- Panic, crying, possibly a cardiac episode. He can barely handle the idea of being abducted by humans let alone aliens.

What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower? -- Hunter has memorized the entirety of the Eagles’ Desperado album. Due to his personal inability to tune his voice, yet still being able to hear his own atonality, he doesn’t sing but has been known to air guitar and lipsync alone in his apartment.

What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors? -- Not many of his neighbors have noticed, but Hunter leaves out butter and cream for fairies, usually in a saucer on his windowsill.

Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public? -- Hunter would need a direct order in a scene to be naked in public. He’s very body shy but loves being skin-to-skin both platonically and romantically, so he often spends weekends with friends without a shirt.

What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for? -- Hunter is adopted and has no information about his birth family. He wonders about them a lot and has considered doing research to track them down, but never does due to fear about what he might find out. His self-esteem is fragile enough without exploring his mother’s motivation for surrendering him.

How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been? -- Hunter often zones out at work or while driving, since he’s often thinking about something else. He’s a creative type and often is picking at strings of melody or harmony while his body does automatic things. He’s been lucky and nothing has happened negatively due to this.

How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so? -- Hunter isn’t very impulsive because he tends to be very indecisive and afraid of making a wrong decision. He combats this by over-researching things when he’s making purchases, often ending up not buying something he needs because he never found a defining answer to what the right answer was.

How does your OC sabotage themselves? -- Hunter usually paralyzes himself with what-ifs, sometimes becoming so bogged down in scenarios that he doesn’t actually move forward. He usually requires external assistance in breaking out of these kinds of spirals.

What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it? -- Hunter’s “trashiest” item is a cheap pair of fuzzy cuffs. Marek likes to tease him that he still has them, but it was the first kink-related purchase Hunter ever made on his own and he’s kind of proud of them. He hasn’t used them in years, not since having purchased decent leather cuffs.

How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this? -- A bit. He’ll figure it out in a few minutes, be surprised to recognize the sensation and then go and drink a glass of water.

What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent? -- Hunter’s a sucker for what he calls “man-scented” things: rustic, musky, leathery scents in particular. He loves Old Spice and uses both the aftershave and the deodorant in complementing scents. His hair often smells like menthol and chemicals due to his use of very strong anti-dandruff shampoo. He usually showers immediately after coming home from work and usually prefers to air-dry rather than toweling himself off.

[brightwaterforarainyday]

@grotesque-rotten-puppet   (I hope you don’t mind me tagging you in these)

Answers to some very important questions pt. 2: Mazrah Sulein:

On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

Mazrah’s high charisma and familiarity with corporate and corporate security culture mean she’s almost always the one in charge of impersonating security guards/negotiating with the Johnson for higher pay/just about any interaction that doesn’t involve shooting things, so she has to be at least a bit more aware of her appearance than other members of her team. On the other hand, anything too flashy is going to make her stand out more than she would like to, so she usually just sticks to a middle ground of respectable but plain, unless a particular run requires a certain “look”. Also like, she has better things to spend time and money on. Like guns. And cool jackets.

What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Any kind of food that could be described as “hearty”: potatoes, soup, sausage, many pastas, that kind of stuff. It’s like a hug that you eat! Food and eating also have a lot of social connotations for Maz, which plays into her preferences quite a bit. Meals are one of the few times she gets to spend time with her team mates outside of “work”, and the trust inherent in the act of sharing food makes it a good way for the team to bond and grow closer. I feel like that might be a thing in the larger Shadowrunner community as well, as a profession where suspicion and paranoia are survival mechanisms and the price of misplaced trust is so, so high, sharing a genuine sit-down meal with others is a Big Deal.

She’s also a fan of street food for similar reasons, it’s like the Shadowrunner equivalent of having someone prepare a meal for you, with all (or, well, some of) the connotations of care and hospitality that comes with that.

What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

No one ever returns spoons to the safehouse kitchen and they’ve spent entirely too much money on replacing them already.

What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

She runs a quick risk/reward calculation that goes something like this:

Pros:

Homeless people see a lot of shit and can be a great source of information. Getting friendly with them has some strategic advantages.

Maz spent some time on the streets herself before she found a Runner squad who would take her, so she knows it’s rough.

Fellow lowlifes gotta stick together if they wanna stick it to The Man. Or, you know, survive.

Cons:

Money is always tight and earning more usually involves getting shot at.

She almost always decides to give them something, maybe ask their name too, get to know them a bit. Networking is an important part of any job, Shadowrunning included.

Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

On one hand, she has virtually constant access to the power of Future!Google Maps. On the other, sometimes Future!Google Maps is unavailable or unreliable. If she ever does find herself lost, she’ll look for: A) some kind of prominent landmark she can orient herself relative to, B) a public transit station or hub that will likely have a map, or C) someone who looks like they could give her directions.

What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

“Messing with these people who hate my guts/view me as a disposable asset/are actively trying to kill me would be hilarious right now.” 

That or just plain old spite.

Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at their own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a  smiley face painted on?

I mean, the secret hideout of a bunch of professional criminals probably isn’t the best place for a kid to hang out, but safehouses are, by definition, safe (supposedly).  Also, she has a lot of experience keeping her idiot boyfriends alive in similar circumstances, and a kid can’t be that much harder.

If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically.

Maz has taken her fair share of standardized tests courtesy of the Ares Macrotechnology owned and run primary school she went to, so she would be familiar with the concept, at least. That was a long time ago however, and she hasn’t had any formal education since she started running the shadows as a rebellious teenager (or the Orc equivalent of a teenager anyway). The difference in the speed at which Orc and Human children mature probably makes school complicated too, come to think of it.

Tests like the S.A.T are also a pretty major aspect of the kind of life and culture she was specifically running away from when she decided to become a Shadowrunner, so I imagine the amount of anger and resentment she would feel along with the stress would be significant.

So, academically: probably not great. Emotionally: also probably not great.

What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

Mazrah has a lot of very deep-seated anger and resentment towards people in positions of power and authority, especially if that power comes with the kind of wealth that being on the board of directors of a company or megacorp provides. (She owns more than one “Eat the Rich” t shirt, incidentally) Given the opportunity, she would find the sight of one of those people in pain to be extremely satisfying.

But.

Although she’d be slow to admit it, the quasi-military upbringing she had under Ares left her with an above-average sense of things like duty, and honor, and justice, and all those other things organizations of that kind claim to uphold. Some of that manifests in the code of honor she -- and most other street samurai --follow. This code is the primary thing -- besides all the chrome -- that sets a street sam apart from you’re run-of-the-mill tough guy with a gun, and she takes it very seriously. More importantly, it specifically forbids her from taking lethal action against, or allowing someone else to take lethal  action against anyone who is unarmed, unaware of her, or otherwise defenseless. It’s a bit fuzzier on the subject of just like, regular old pain and fear however, though I imagine those are also discouraged.

So... which one of those two opposing forces wins out in the end isn’t going to be simple, or certain, and would be extremely dependent on the context of the specific situation in question.

On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

You know, aliens aren’t that much of a stretch from orcs and dragons and magic an all the other bizarre things that happen every day in the Sixth World. So I think her reaction would be something along the lines of “Ok I guess we’re doing this now, sure. Life is weird enough already this might as well happen. I would very much like to go home now, though.”

But also, can you imagine how much literally any intel or object from that encounter would sell for?

What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

“I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous”, “Out of Breath”, and “Love Ire & Song” by Frank Turner all fall under this category.

She aslo definitely sings along to any MESSERKAMF! songs that happen to come on as loud as possible and with just the most enthusiasm, just to annoy/embarrass Dietrich.

What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors?

She possesses both a very unpredictable schedule and an electric guitar she spends a considerable amount of time practicing, possibly the most aggravating combination of traits a neighbor and/or housemate can have.

Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

 Mazrah has been known to, as they say, “party hard”, on occasion.

How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so?

It’s gotten better since she’s started finding herself in more and more leadership positions in the teams she runs with and the extra responsibility that comes with that, but she’s still a pretty big adrenaline junkie. There are probably a few Lone Star security squads that could have gone unprovoked or avoided entirely with someone a bit less impulsive at the helm. She’s done some pretty buckwild parkour stunts too, but so far all of them have ended well.

EDIT: I'm a god damn idiot for forgetting my own character's backstory: Hands down the single most impulsive thing Mazrah has done is running away from home to become a Shadowrunner as an idiot teenager.

How does your OC sabotage themselves?

The tension between the desire for and benefits of close relationships between people like team mates, neighbors, that one street doc who always patches them up after a run, and the inherently mercenary and transitory nature of those relationships, and the risks they bring, is a confusing, ever-shifting balance, and Mazrah is usually overcompensating in one direction or the other at any given time. Either closing herself off to any kind of really meaningful connection or becoming too involved with and concerned about the people around her and getting hurt as a result.

What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was thier last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Leather conditioner and gun oil, generally. If she’s not out on a run or partying she’s at the safehouse taking care of her gear. She buys soap and hair stuff that smells like sandalwood whenever the option is available, so she’s got that nice like, warm, almost-cinnamon-but-different smell underneath all that too.

[thelunarbond]

OC questions time with Phoenix

A few days ago I reblogged this post with some questions to help with characterisation, and I wanted to write it out here with Phoenix as he’s my main oc! Here we go...

1) On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

Phoenix hates showering, especially when his anxiety is high. He still does it as often as possible, and he uses moisturiser and proper face wash, and that’s about it. He still barely grows facial hair despite the fact that he’s 19 years old. The rest of the Lunar Bond get jealous of him because he rarely gets acne or rough skin and he doesn’t even try

2) What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Phoenix is the least fussy eater ever and will eat almost anything. However, his preference is crunchy foods and/or spicy food. He doesn’t really have a preference with calories. He’s not very good at self care, so Phoenix’s diet normally consists of cereal and cup noodles for virtually every meal, as he never remembers to feed himself or remembers to buy food in the first place. (He might occasionally sneak out of bed to eat some shredded cheese at 5am too)

3) What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

Anything vaguely unsatisfying. Things such as when people cut wrapping paper and it rips, or when people draw with a ruler and it goes loose so the line isn’t straight, things like that. (Side note: Phoenix definitely watches satisfying compilations or soap cutting videos on YouTube)

4) What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

Fear, as he never carries cash or change on him (when he has money at all). He puts all his money on his bank card, and he knows he can’t transfer it to the homeless person. He gets scared that it would lead to the homeless person being angry or upset with him. And he feels bad that he could have done something to help someone

5) Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

Phoenix doesn’t get lost very easily as he never goes to places he hasn’t been to before. However, when he moved from the countryside to Westerlyn City he got lost all the time, and his response is a lot of fear (and probably a panic attack). When he would get lost he’d rely on his phone for directions and hope he wasn’t going to be lost forever

6) What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

Answered here!

7) Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at their own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a  smiley face painted on?

Phoenix has been taking care of his little brother for years up until recently. He’s incredibly good at caring for other people or pets and making sure they are well, but he isn’t very good at looking after himself (probably because he’s too distracted while thinking about the other person/animal etc). He also has multiple houseplants in his home that are thriving

8) If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically.

Academically, Phoenix would do amazingly well. He has the highest IQ out of anyone in the Lunar Bond; he picks up information very quickly and is good at retaining it. His emotional well-being in that situation is a whole other story. Phoenix doesn’t believe he’s very good at anything. And he doesn’t think he’s particularly clever, no matter how many high test scores he gets. He would spend all night drinking energy drinks and studying, and freaking out that he’s going to fail and everyone’s going to be disappointed in him. He’d probably also be a big puddle of anxiety on the day of the test as well

9) What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

Nothing. Phoenix is terrified of upsetting or angering people. No matter how many cruel or petty pranks are pulled on him, he doesn’t lash out as he’s scared of having an argument. If it’s constant, he might eventually yell at the person in question that what they’re doing is unfair, but it takes a lot to reach that point

10) On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

Very very badly. He would have a total mental breakdown. He’d spend the whole time thinking he was going to die

11) What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

Pompeii by Bastille. Phoenix loves songs that he can sing along loudly to and are still calming in nature. He doesn’t really like “thumping” songs, such as songs with heavy bass or techno songs, as he thinks they’re too noisy. But he’d 100% sing along with a song like Pompeii in the shower at least (probably not in public though)

12) What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbours?

He doesn’t really do anything that would piss them off as he’s scared of being confronted, but they would be confused by the fact that he leaves and goes back into his house constantly before he goes out to buy groceries. He’ll open the door, take about 2 steps outside and then go back in and stay there for another 10 minutes, still wearing his coat. He’ll leave the house again and walk to the end of the street and walk back, shut the door and not come out for 20 minutes, and it continues like that. To Phoenix, it’s his normal routine as he’s not sure if he’s too anxious to go into a store and buy groceries. In the end, after leaving and going back into his house about 5 or 6 times he’ll order his groceries online, and leave his neighbours very confused

13) Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

Only if it was life or death. If going naked in public would save his life or someone close to him he’d do it. But nothing else would make him do something like that

14) What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for?

This question is kinda confusing and I honestly don’t know how to answer it, sorry😅

15) How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

He zones out all the time. Multiple times a day he’ll start daydreaming, and something he does on autopilot is make cups of tea. The amount of times he’s nearly died as a result of his daydreaming is unreal. He still doesn’t stop his daydreaming while he’s in public, no matter how many times this has happened. His autopilot tea making has resulted in multiple occasions of him finding random cups of tea of different flavours around his house that he’s made, taken one sip out of, and left to go cold somewhere

16) How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so?

Answered here!

17) How does your OC sabotage themselves? 

A better question for Phoenix would be how he doesn’t sabotage himself. He’s the worst at self care, he’s never told someone he’s had a crush on that he loves them, trouble constantly seems to seek him out... someone help him

18) What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it?

Phoenix doesn’t really own embarrassing clothes but the trashiest thing he owns is an ancient oversized shirt that he’s had for many years; he lounges around the house in it (and sometimes wears it to the store when he occasionally braves the store). It’s covered in holes, stains and rips, the print is completely cracked and peeling and it’s about 4 sizes too big. And the last time Phoenix wore it was yesterday, because he refuses to throw it away (he claims he’s had it too long to throw it away) 

19) How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this?

How hydrating is tea? Because he hasn’t had a glass of water for about 6 hours but he’s had 4 cups of tea and he’s making himself another one

20) What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odour? what have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Phoenix’s last shower was yesterday, so the smell of his body wash has faded a little. It’s scented like lemon and tea tree, and he still smells like it a little bit. Perfumes or aftershaves irritate his skin so he doesn’t wear them. His fingers smell like the pages of the second hand adventure books he’s been reading all day. The smell of the scented candles he has also lingers on him a little, and they’re scented like black cherry

[dukeofishgard]

interesting oc questions that can be found here! first few will be outside a cut then rest under a cut! 

On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

Duke is super big on his hygiene. For one, he’s obviously from nobility so... he just grew up practicing good hygiene. However, after being cursed and developing a penchant for dying in horrific ways, he became much more obsessed with cleanliness. He’s always worried that he may smell bloody or otherwise slightly like death. So he takes extreme measures to try and keep that at bay. 

What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Duke has a pretty broad taste, and will try pretty much anything at least once. He does tend to be drawn to spicier foods, and heavily seasoned dishes as his tastebuds (through various ways) are not quite as robust as they used to be. So he tends to like strongly flavored dishes. He also tends to like meatier dishes as well- often with a good hunk of bread to mop up the juices. He grew up eating rich dishes thanks to his upbringing, and enjoyed sneaking into the kitchen to see how things were made. This made him popular as a Captain as he’d often find ways to spice up rations given during the War and often went out of his way to hunt for proper meat for his soldiers. Now as an immortal, he’s traveled all across Hydaelyn and enjoys trying new dishes from different cultures. Again as his tastebuds aren’t that great, he can tolerate most things. He’s definitely the type of guy who likes that one dish that the majority can’t stand. 

What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

I’ve never really thought about this because he’s such an easy-going person and isn’t phased by most things really. However, probably how Dracyn will tidy up his desk for him. Duke is, by habit now, just a generally messy person. He tends to just leave things scattered about on his desk, papers and such. So when Dracyn tidies things up, even tho Duke knows it should look nice and not a trainwreck, it annoys him because he then can’t find anything. it may be a mess, but it’s his mess and he knows where everything is god dammit.  What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

He will literally give said homeless person all the money he currently has on him, ask for the person’s name and then likely do his best to get them into housing and find a job. He does this often. On one hand he’s genuinely just that sort of person, but it also is another way for him to use the endless amounts of money he’s made being immortal. Better in the hands of those who need it more than him. Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

Nah. He’s got a good sense of direction. If he ever gets ‘lost’ it’s on purpose for adventure purposes. 

What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

Duke is at his core, completely and one hundred percent a goody-two shoes. The only situation I can think of, of him hesitating is a completely hypothetical and would, at this point, only happen in an AU. And that would be if Dracyn ever completely snapped. It’s been a big thing between the two of them that Duke insists he could never kill or ‘put down’ Dracyn if Dracyn were to ever fall back into his old ways, despite Dracyn asking him too. Duke insists that he could always bring Dracyn back. So, again, were Dracyn ever to fall back onto his old ways, and Duke had to choose between killing Dracyn and saving people from Dracyn, it’d be a really be a stopping point of Duke not being able to make a very rational choice. He’d likely end up trying to simply hide Dracyn from the world rather than forcing himself to kill Dracyn. :\ But again, this would likely only happen in an AU because their relationship currently is very even and there’s not anything that comes to mind that Dracyn and I have planned that would ever trigger Dracyn to just totally lose it.

Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at thier own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a  smiley face painted on? Yes. Duke was a father, and is currently once again taking it on again after marrying Dracyn, taking care of his step-children. Despite his heavy reservations on being a father again after the death of his children, Duke is quite good at taking care of others, and a good father. He also is fairly good with plants- he tends roses back home at Ishgard. If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically. He’d likely do just fine. He’s a smart cookie, and emotionally, he wouldn’t really care if he did well or poorly. At least now in his life lol. Growing up he may have been more worried, but again- he was always pretty intelligent and studious. So even with only one night to cram, I think he’d be fine.   What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

The only time Duke is ever pointlessly cruel is if someone’s pushed him to that point. I.E, when people threaten the people he loves. He’s normally pretty quick to kill an enemy, but you threaten someone he loves and he will get vicious and make sure it’s painful. He once shoved himself further onto a bandit’s blade and then jammed a hidden dagger into the man’s neck as painfully as he could. When Dracyn was kidnapped, Duke, despite getting injured, was one step away, had his stepdaughter not blasted the guy out of the ship, he would have grabbed the kidnapper and continued to stab the man repeatedly, over and over again. His cruelty is truly only shown when someone has wronged someone he either cares about or hurt innocents.  As for being petty, Duke can be very Ishgardian and can be incredibly petty and huffy if someone insults him lol. On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens? He’d probably just sigh and be like “okay well this is at least something new and exciting after a thousand years.”  What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower? Uhhh, hard to say because of XIV’s setting? Ye old Ishgardian ballads? lmao idk! likely any song that gets performed at Lucky Sparrow, and likely a lot of the group numbers he helps out with likely get practiced loudly in the shower. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies thier neighbors? Showing up alive outside tending the gardens when the day before he showed up with various, mortal injuries that surely would have killed any other normal person. “But- you- you had a sword- sticking out your head! I saw it! In one side out the other!” “Yes well. I got better. Do you think these roses are looking a bit down? Maybe I should add some blood to the soil...”  Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public? When he was younger, his second in command, and lover, Etienne convinced him to run naked through the Foundation while they were back in Ishgard on leave. The entire squad was drunk and only wore their dragoon helmets. So, basically he needs to be drunk and the person asking him to do it, needs to be the man he’s madly in love with lmao.  What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for? Duke actually, genuinely holds no ill-will towards his parents. And it’s not even a matter of the fact that they’re dead and long dead at that, so his grievances have been to put to bed. He just genuinely loved his parents, and they genuinely loved him back as well. They did their best for their son, and their only real ‘fuck-up’ was the arranged marriage to Antoinette, but Duke realizes that they were tricked into believing she was sane. Other than that, he knows they loved him very much and when he asked for help, even when he asked for help to keep his children, Minette and Alitte safe- (a huge risk at the time) they always came through. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been? Usually pretty often. Being immortal and living for so long, sometimes mundane things just sort of... start to all bleed together. He’s definitely accidentally cut himself in various ways while cooking because he’s not paying attention, and he doesn’t quite feel pain as easily as others. How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened becuase of thier Impulsivity or inability to be so? It’s pretty weak. It’s gotten better now that he’s remarried, and he knows Dracyn would be upset if something happened to him despite being immortal. But before he met Dracyn, he was incredibly impulsive and would often times throw himself into situations that would end up with him dead and or seriously maimed. These days he’s a touch more restrained if only because he doesn’t want to explain to his husband why he’s got a gaping, bloody hole in his chest. How does your OC sabotage themselves? Prior to getting married, Duke would often sabotage relationships and friendships if he started to feel cornered and ‘too happy’ His greatest fear is always seeing the ones he loves growing old and die. Sometimes he could handle it, other times he would clam up and simply... leave, with no explanation. Just in the middle of the night, leave without a word, and often go to the Fury’s Gaze in Coerthas where he’d forcefully and continually commit suicide as an extremely unhealthy way to cope with the feelings of loss and grief over once again, not letting himself get close to people in fear of their eventual death. What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it? Duke has many trashy items in his wardrobe as he is A. immortal and thus has to change his style in accordance with the times and B. He does not get rid of anything.  As such, he has some incredibly questionable fashion choices in his closet, and insists on keeping them in case they one day come back in fashion. How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this? Duke is always teetering usually on the edge of dehydration. He’s gotten better about accidentally starving himself, mainly because he has his family he eats with every day, and thus, he eats with them even though he can go a bit longer without eating. Staying hydrated however, he can be a bit forgetful. As he’s immortal, and can’t die from it really, he’s gotten used to going without for longer periods of time, and sometimes just doesn’t recognize the signs. Thankfully he has a husband that typically reminds him if he’s looking a bit peak. It’s not intentional, it’s just one of those weird things he just forgets after being immortal for so long.  What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was thier last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent? I’ve always headcanoned Duke’s smells very specifically- and spoke about it under the hygiene question. Duke typically always has an underlying odd smell, often times like blood, occasionally a bit more... dead. This stems A. from his curse and B. the fact he tries(ed) to kill himself so often. He’s very self conscience about it, as he knows he may not be able to smell it himself as he’s kind of used too it. So he’s pretty obsessive about washing up. He typically smells of leather due to what he wears, and often like chocolate and cinnamon from his baking. He also probably has a fancy cologne he wears, probably a floral/rose scent.  This is also the reason he’s typically a bit iffy around animals, as animals can typically detect the underlying smell on him and ofc are like “the fuck is this unnatural dead dude.” Miqo’te might be a bit more sensitive around him too, but again- he takes GREAT pains to mask it.  ---------

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