#anyway is this coherent NO have I been thinking about it for like two weeks YES

[bitegore]

getting mental healthcare is really cool, its like asking someone to take a sledgehammer to your self-interest and then saying thank you after because it makes your life moderately easier even though you have to deal with this shit now

[exopelagic]

supervisor was met. god help our souls

[toji-bunny-girl]

You don't go to the library to study. You go there to have your cunt stuffed, by nonother than librarian!Gojo.

He works there 5 days a week, and you made sure to be there by your corner every single one of those days, carefully staring at him through the side of your book. Of course, he's well aware of your interest in him. You're so preoccupied with him you don't even realise you're holding the book upside down.

He doesn't realise it yet but he's slow to share the same amount of attraction to you as you are to him. He'd note the way your eyebrows would adorably scrunch together when you're actually doing your assignment for once, and you'd collapse face down onto the table when the frustration and exhaustion caught up to you. Or how your favourite colour seemed to be pink, your stationery and laptop covered in different shades of the colour.

He's used to your presence by now, having spent the last couple of weeks observing you just as you stalked him through the library. And truth to be told, he actually enjoyed it—he's got a cutie following behind him, too shy to strike up a conversation with him and too dumb to hide your little crush any better.

You quickly became the only part of his job he would look forward to, questioning what kind of crap you were going to pull up to just right before his shift. Until you're gone all of a sudden.

Maybe you were just late, he thought on the first day of your absence. Or maybe you're sick by the second day. Perhaps you're just busy with school…or maybe some another guy—

Why does he even care in the first place? You're just some stalker with a pretty face, nothing special out of the sea of girls in his DMs. Gojo doesn't like how he's fretting over a girl who he hasn't talked to before, your presence doesn't control how his day goes anyway.

Until it does.

It exasperated him by how he allowed himself to be subjugated under you. He can't focus on his seminars when the voices in his head wonder about you louder than the lecturer's, he can't flirt with the chicks on campus without thinking about that fangirl from the library and he can't sleep if his head is filled with the images of you with another guy.

What kind of spell have you managed to put him under?

He was completely and utterly chafed by the next week when he entered his shift, a frown seemingly marked permanently upon his face as he went through his chores, putting away the books back to their categorised shelves. That was until he heard a familiar pit-pats of your shoes, and saw your figure stupidly hiding behind a bookshelf from the side of his eye.

His playful spirit returned when he noted your presence, and he wandered further into the library, where no one could see the two of you. As expected, you shuffled along his steps before slipping yourself into the aisle behind him, pretending to flick through the choices of books on display.

Those were Chinese novels, and you majored in Biochemistry. Idiot, he thought with an internal chuckle.

Unbeknownst to you, he had strolled to your back, waiting for you to turn to face him. Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you found him standing right in front of you, and you froze then and there like a deer in the headlights.

"I know you've been stalking me around here," he had a shit-eating smirk on his face as his arms rested by your sides to trap you in between them. "Freak," he whispered next to your ears, sending a tingle through your nerves.

"I-I, ah—" you stammered, trying to collect your words to sound coherent. Your face was flushed bloody red with embarrassment, and Gojo was sure he'd burn himself if he were to touch you.

"But that's okay…" he drawled. "I won't spread the word if you listen to me."

Your eyes were wide, gaping at him through your lashes as you nodded.

Fuck, were you adorable.

"You like me, huh?"

"Uhm…I, uh…"

"Hm?"

"Y-Yes," you blurted with your eyes squeezed shut, too embarrassed. Your breath was hot, and they scorched his cheeks red upon your words.

"What do you like about me?" oh god does he love teasing the hell out of you.

"Your f-face…"

"My face?" he feigned dumb. Of course, he's well aware that girls would only come chasing after his looks. But he absolutely enjoyed torturing you with his stupid questions. "Which part of my face?"

"Huh…?" your eyes were spinning, your hands raising to push his frame a little away for your comfort.

"My eyes? My nose?" his bigger hand captured the two of yours into his grasp, his fingers were icy cold against yours, and his face neared yours once again, merely a breath away. "Or my lips?"

You didn't dare to answer, the sound of your throat gulping filled the air as a few stray hairs of his tickled your cheek. His eyes peered towards yours, catching your gaze that fell upon his lips.

"There, huh?" Gojo's smirk widened, his grip on your wrists tightening a fraction. "Wanna try them?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words left your trembling lips, except for a silent gasp. He took the shift of your feature as a sign for him to advance onto you, his lips gently sucked on your soft flesh, the tiniest amount of your saliva flowed onto his tongue and they tasted better than the finest honey.

A string of your mixed essence connected his lips to yours, red and swollen as a sign of his kiss, when he pulled away. Your knees weakened in enfeeblement, and Gojo caught you before you could fall to the ground.

"You're done?" his arms are strong, and you could feel his muscles flex under your hand when you gathered your strength to stabilise on your feet. "I'm not."

His touches slowly trailed down from your arm to your hips, and you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together when his gaze fell onto them. In his eyes you could see a growing hunger that lurked beneath his bright blue eyes, it was the darker gradient that hung low in his orbs.

"Do you touch yourself here when you think of me?" your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip and your eyes peered down to between your skirt, where his hand was as you vaguely nodded; hoping that he didn't see the faint motion of your head.

How wouldn't he know when all his attention is on you? His eyes scanned the faint shifts in your features when he pressed against your heat, making sure there wasn't any hint of dissent to his touch—and mostly searching for the muted salacity behind your pretty eyes.

"Sometimes…" your voice was meek, but it was audible enough for his ear to twitch at your words. His chest almost burst to your confession, and the images of your features twisting into lewd faces flashed past his mind, calling out his name with that sweet voice of yours.

A soft moan left your lips when his fingers slipped past your pink panty, drawing slow circles upon your clit. Your hips bucked as he teased, his other hand coming down to palm your ass.

"What about I make you feel good?" he gently asked, and you drunkenly nodded to your pleasure. His thumb grew charge of teasing your hardening bud, his two long fingers dipped into your already-slick cavern, reaching the sensitive parts of your inside.

Your lips tensed into a line to quell the moans that drew from your itching tummy, and your hands rested on Gojo's chest, gripping onto his shirt for support.

His fingers grew greedy for more of your whimpers, stroking past your walls, searching for the velvety spot in you. You threw your head back when he found the part he was looking for, pumping out and into the spongey surface, stimulating your nerves to their limit.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyelids flew shut when he expedited the speed of his slick-coated digits, his arm growing slightly sore as he carried you to the height of your orgasm. His cock twitched when you drew out a cry of pleasure, your breath stuck in your throat as your mind went blank from your high.

Your grip on his clothes loosened, and you panted as you rest your weight against the shelves, Gojo's damp fingers evident of the pleasure he delivered to you. He watched as you collected your remaining breath, your cheeks flushed pink in arousal and your eyesight slowly blinked clear.

A bolt flash of surprise ran through his eyes when you carefully pulled his pants down, gripping his hardened girth with your warm hands. Gojo stopped you with a grab of your wrist, your whole body tensing in creeping embarrassment—he doesn't like it when you touch him?

Your thoughts flew out the window when he spat onto your palm, before guiding your hand back to his throbbing cock. Your mind grew blank as you began fisting his length, his breath hitching when you rubbed over his pinkish-red tip.

Your touches were filled with careful inexperience, and Gojo found it absolutely fucking adorable. The soft squelching of his saliva in your hand as you pumped his cock filled the air, and he inched closer to kiss you once again.

His groans flowed into your mouth as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, drinking in the taste of you as you pleased him. You seemed to be a quick learner on your own, pumping his pulsing cock faster, gripping onto him tighter, and rubbing his sensitive tip of all.

His hips stuttered along with the movements of your hand, a sign of his close release and you were clearly relentless to please him. Your pace doesn't falter, but fastened instead and his moans muffled through your sloppy kiss, your mixed drool dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

"Fuck," his voice cracked as his cock twitched, before ejaculating his hot semen onto your clothes, slowly dripping down to your thigh. Your breaths mingled in the sultry air, the smell of your essences filled your nostrils as the both of you cooled from the aftermath of your highs.

You recognised the dirty smirk on his face when you flicked your gaze up at him, and you sank into the bookshelf in preparation for what he had conjured up in his mind.

"The library closes in 30 minutes, we'll get the whole place to ourselves by then."

[notlongtolove]

like a lover

he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t even look at you again. he just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. by the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: hurt comfort

content: student!reader gets drunk after a brutal final and spencer is beyond mad. very brief mention of abduction. lowkey spencer is in the right bc #safety but he made reader cry n for that he is found #guilty!!!

word count: 3.1k

note: based off this ask! random fact the last line of this fic was the inspiration for empty my soul but idk why i just couldnt fit it in there, anyways i hope you guys like it! (pls tell me if u do i was struggling with a resolution for this)

a line: Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again.

I give you an onion. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It promises light like the careful undressing of love. Here. It will blind you with tears like a lover. It will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief. I am trying to be truthful. - carol ann duffy

You probably should’ve stopped five drinks ago—maybe four if you were feeling merciful. That last Vodka cran? A spectacularly bad idea. But whatever. You earned this. You’re young, you’re fun, you look good, and for the first time in weeks, you have no deadlines clawing at you. The final had been a nightmare. You knew your fate was sealed the second you flipped to question three. What the hell is textual and symbolic environmentalisation? But it’s over now. That’s all that matters.

The wind bites at your bare legs as you stand by the curb, aimlessly kicking a pebble. You hug your arms close, fighting off the chill. Maybe you should’ve brought a jacket. Spencer had suggested it, but you’d waved him off. He’s usually right.

You frown, glancing up at the street sign. He said he’d be here. Right? Your phone’s dying battery blinks at you in its final moments, mocking you before shutting off completely. Definitely should’ve taken his offer of a portable charger, too. You sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

A man stumbles by, reeking of booze. You don’t need to look to know.

"Hey," he calls out, voice slurred and gravelly.

You keep your eyes down, pretending not to hear.

“Hey,” he says again, louder this time.

Where the hell is Spencer?

"D’you know when the bus starts running again?"

You hesitate, half-relieved that he’s asking something semi-coherent. "I—I’m sorry, I’m not sure."

He nods to himself, swaying on his feet. 

"I told you to wait by the bodega on 3rd," a familiar voice mutters. Spencer’s hand closes around your arm, already steering you away.

"Oh, hey," you say softly, relief washing over you. "Is this not—" You glance at the street sign overhead—4 Maple Drive. Shit. "I—sorry, I thought—"

"It’s fine," he says, but the sharp edge in his voice tells you it’s not.

The car ride is suffocatingly silent. When he pulls open the passenger door for you, there’s no trace of his usual warmth. No soft smile, no gentle tease about your perpetually dead phone. Just a click of the door and the quiet thud of it shutting behind you.

You hate this. Hate the tension humming between you, the way his jaw is set tight as he drives. He was so different this afternoon, greeting you after your final with those cupcakes he knows you love from the bakery on the other side of town, his lips brushing yours in endless, giddy kisses. This Spencer is nothing like that. 

"They played ‘Dancing Queen’ tonight," you venture, voice tentative. He knows it’s your favourite. Knows it always pulls you to the dance floor, no matter how tired or tipsy you are. "It was so funny—some guy bought us a round of shots—"

"And you drank it?"

The question lands heavy. His first words to you since he’d started driving. 

"Well... yeah?"

"What else did you drink?"

"Not a lot," you say quickly, tripping over your words. "Just vodka, tequila, a bit of wine—"

"You mixed?" 

The way he says it makes you bristle. There’s a hint of disbelief, maybe even disappointment. 

"Spence," you say softly. "I’m not that drunk, I promise."

Nothing.

His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. The silence in the air is almost tangible, a crackling, oppressive thing. When he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine, he doesn’t move to open your door. He always does that. But not tonight. 

You’re pretty sure he’s mad at you, though you’re not entirely sure why. It’s not like you go out that often, and you can’t even remember the last time you let yourself get this drunk. Tonight was an exception, a celebration. He understands, doesn’t he?

You follow him inside, trailing behind like a shadow. He doesn’t head to the kitchen like he does after you get back from a night out—no tea, no toast, no quiet ritual of making sure you’re okay. Instead, he walks straight into the study, his back to you. Yeah, he’s definitely mad. 

"You’re mad at me," you say, standing in the doorway.

He doesn’t answer. His hands grip the back of his chair, his head bowed like he’s trying to gather himself. You’re not one to push, usually giving him the space he needs when he gets all broody like this, but the alcohol that’s running through your system is making it hard to practice patience. 

"Why are you mad at me?"

Still nothing. 

When he finally moves, it’s only to brush past you, heading for the bedroom without so much as a glance. "We’ll talk about this tomorrow," he says, his tone flat, clipped. "I can’t talk to you when you’re like this."

This. The word hits like a slap, sharp and dismissive. It irks you. 

"If you didn’t want to come, then you shouldn’t have come," you mutter under your breath, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "I could’ve gotten a ride—"

"You were slurring on the phone." He stops in the hallway, turning just enough for you to see the tight set of his jaw. 

"Yeah, no shit, Spencer. People slur when they drink," you fire back a little too harshly, the alcohol fueling your irritation as you cross your arms defensively.

"Don’t," he warns, his voice low, dangerous in a way that makes your chest tighten.

​​You glare at him, heat rising in your cheeks. "Don’t what? Don’t point out how ridiculous you’re being right now?"

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at you again. He just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. By the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. Fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

You head to the bathroom without a word, your movements jerky as you swipe at the remnants of your makeup. You grab your moisturizer, fingers fumbling with the cap. A sharp tug and it goes flying out of your hands, clattering to the floor. 

"Fuck," you mutter, bracing yourself for a bout of instability as you bend down to retrieve it.

Before you can grab it, Spencer moves. He scoops it up, straightening with an ease that feels almost mocking. When you meet his eyes, they’re unfamiliar. It’s not the Spencer you know. Not the Spencer who covers your eyes during scary movies or kisses your forehead when you’re half-asleep. No, this Spencer feels distant, cold. 

"And I’m supposed to believe you’re not that drunk," he says flatly. Your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat as heat flushes your face. He offers a hand as you steady yourself, trying to rise to your feet, but you brush him off, snatching the bottle from his grip with a bitterness you don’t try to mask. 

"What the hell is your problem?" you snap.

"My problem?" he repeats, incredulous. "I’m not the one blackout drunk on a Wednesday night."

"I’m not—"

"Would you—would you just stop!" he barks, the words sharp enough to make you flinch. "You’re slurring your words. You got the streets wrong. You couldn’t even get the damn moisturizer open," he snaps, gesturing toward you harshly with a mixture of frustration and exasperation.

Your knuckles whiten as you cling to the edge of the sink, unsure if you’re holding on for balance or just to keep from breaking. You spin back toward the mirror willing yourself not to cry. The frustration, the confusion, the ache in your chest—everything wells up at once.

"God, you’re being so—"

"So what?" he interrupts, his voice rising as he steps closer. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to say it. "So concerned? So worried? So—"

"So fucking mean!"

The silence that follows deafening. For a moment, he freezes, the hard edges of his expression softening into something else—shock, regret, guilt—but it’s fleeting.

"So what if I’m drunk?" Your voice cracks as the words tumble out, your frustration too overwhelming to contain. "And yeah, maybe—" You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat as you glare at him, "Maybe I’m slurring a little but forgive me for wanting a drink after the final I’ve been stressing over all fucking month."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration barely contained. "It’s not about you having a drink. It’s about you not knowing your limits—"

"Oh, for fucks sake," you interrupt, throwing your hands up. The movement makes you sway slightly, and you hate how it only seems to prove his point. "Newsflash, Spencer, I’m a university student. Sometimes we get drunk. You don’t get to make me feel like shit just because you don’t drink.”

You push past him, your shoulder grazing his as you move to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and you grip the edge, willing the room to stop spinning.

"You were being reckless," he bites back, the word hanging heavy in the air. "You don’t see what I see. You’re out alone, you don’t—"

"I wasn’t alone," you say, your voice rising to meet his. "I had friends—"

"Yeah, friends who left you alone on a curb at 3am," he shoots back, cutting you off. The words land with precision, a calculated jab, but you refuse to flinch.

"Because you said you were on the way!" you fire back.

His voice is cold now, practically seething. "And what do you think would’ve happened if I hadn’t reached you just as that guy was coming on to you?"

"He was asking for the bus!" you shoot back, the words ringing out louder than you intended. You hate everything about this fight. You hate how unfamiliar he feels, hate the part of you that wonders if you’re the one who brought this out of him. "Nothing would’ve—"

Spencer’s expression darkens, his gaze narrowing. "Nothing?" He scoffs. "Tell that to Nina Radha. To Caroline Wrenley. To Mindy Denver. They were all ‘just waiting for a ride home’ last week. And now? All abducted. All dead." 

The room goes silent. Your chest tightens, and the fight drains out of you as his meaning sinks in. 

"You’re being cruel," your words are barely audible, trembling on the edge of your lips. The tears come faster now, streaking your face, but you don’t bother wiping them away. "Why—" you whisper, weak and watery, "Why are you being like this?" 

When Spencer finally turns to look at you, the sight of your tears stops him cold. They streak your face in uneven paths, and he feels something inside him splinter. Spencer never likes seeing you cry—he hates it, actually. It’s not just discomfort or unease; it’s a literal, physical ache. But knowing he’s the reason for your tears tonight? That’s pain in its most visceral form. It’s failure in its purest state.

"I—" he starts, his voice faltering. It cracks mid-sentence, and he stops, swallowing hard. His breath shudders as he exhales, trying to find the words, but all that comes out is a quiet, broken, "I was scared." 

Your tears have momentarily slowed, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. The anger in his voice has faded, replaced by something softer, something raw—fear, tangled with guilt, with regret. He takes a tentative step closer, then hesitates, unsure of what to do. 

"I thought that… something could’ve happened to you, and I—I didn’t know how to handle it." 

After a moment, he lowers himself to your level, crouching in front of you. He lifts his hand, reaching out to wipe away the tears that stain your face. But the instant his fingers near you, you flinch, turning your head to avoid his touch. The movement is small, but Spencer’s heart shatters at the rejection all the same. He hates that he’s made you cry, hates that you won’t let him near you, hates that you won’t even look at him.

"I’m sorry," he says, the words low and weighted with sincerity. He knows it’s not enough, but it’s all he has left to give. 

Your tears fall, dripping onto your hands that rest limply in your lap. You shake your head, your shoulders tense, refusing to meet his eyes. The rejection stings, sharper than he expected, but he doesn’t blame you. He knows he deserves this. The room is still except for the sound of your quiet sniffles. 

Spencer tries again, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I just—" His breath catches as he exhales, his hand running through his hair in agitation, the movement more to calm himself than anything else. "When I saw you standing there alone—alone and with that man, I got scared. And I lashed out. I shouldn’t have. You didn’t— you didn’t deserve that."

The silence that follows is thick, but finally, you break it. Your voice is quiet, bitter. 

"I’m not them."

You’re still not meeting his eyes, still keeping that distance, but at least it’s something. 

"Those girls… I’m not them, Spencer."

"I know, I know. I was—", his voice is low, the regret weighing heavily on every syllable.

​​"That case was tough on you, I know it was," you interrupt, "And what happened to those girls, it was horrible. But I'm not them, Spence. I'm not…" Spencer watches helplessly as you furiously wipe away a tear from your cheek. 

"I'm not dead. I'm here."

“I was projecting, I—” His voice catches, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” he admits quietly. You nod, grimly. Another single, heavy tear slips down your cheek and Spencer feels his heart break all over again. 

"I know you’re scared. How do you think I feel every time you go out into the field?" You take a deep breath, and say bitterly, "I get it." 

Each word is a struggle, but you say it with conviction. He can see how much you’re holding in, the effort it takes for you to keep your voice from cracking. 

You pause, swallowing hard as you steady yourself, "But you—You don’t get to talk to me like that." When your eyes meet his, they flash with both anger and sadness. "You don’t get to take that out on me." 

"I know, I—That was—I was being horrible, I was an ass," Spencer admits, his voice small. "You didn’t deserve that, honey. God, I’m just—I’m so, so, sorry." 

You look at him for a long moment, searching for any sign that he’s being sincere. All you see is regret, raw and heavy. And something else, something softer. Love. He reaches out, and this time you don’t pull away. Just getting to touch you is a brief, bittersweet, blinding relief. Spencer lets his fingers graze your cheek as he wipes away your tears gently, his thumb brushing over the wet path they’ve left behind. 

A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes you. "An ass is putting it lightly." 

Spencer’s chest tightens, a small breath of relief escaping him, though it’s quickly replaced with guilt. "M’so sorry sweetheart," he breathes out, comforted by the familiar bite in your tone. It lightens the air between you, just a little.

He shifts to sit next to you on the bed. "I didn’t—I really didn’t mean to," he says quietly. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh, the fight slowly draining out of you. Spencer gently takes your hands, cradling them in his. 

"I—I never want to hurt you, never want to make you cry. Ever." Spencer's voice cracks slightly as he talks, fingers tracing your palm. "You know that, right?"

You nod, your voice small but steady. "I know."

Shifting, you tuck your legs beneath you, turning to face him fully. Your hands lift to cup his face gently, your thumbs brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. The touch is tender, almost protective, as you guide his face to meet yours. His eyes can’t hold your gaze for long, shame clearly written across them.

"I was just—I was—" He stumbles over his words.

"Scared," you finish softly, filling the silence for him. 

"I—I’m sorry," Spencer’s voice falters, "I’m really sorry honey, I should’ve never—That was—"

Your hands guide his face back toward yours, coaxing him to meet your eyes. This time, he doesn’t resist, his breath shaky as he clings to the comfort you offer. "S’okay, baby. M’not mad anymore," you murmur.

"Sad?" he asks, his voice barely audible, like he’s afraid of what you’ll say.

"No," you smile faintly, shaking your head, "Not sad, baby," you whisper, leaning closer. Your thumb traces the curve of his cheek in silent reassurance. His shoulders relax just a little. "I just—" you sigh as you let out one last, quiet sniffle, "I really hate fighting." 

Carefully, he coaxes you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you. "Me too, honey," he says, his voice thick with emotion as he shifts closer. You don’t resist, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck, your breath warm against his skin.

"S’not nice," you murmur against him, your words muffled.

"I know, I know," Spencer whispers, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles along your back. You let out a shaky sigh, sinking further into his embrace. “Was awful, wasn’t it?” he says, quietly.

"Mhm," you mumble quietly, your voice soft but pointed as you lean into his touch. "Made me cry," you say, looking at him through wet lashes to prove your point. Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again. After a beat of quiet, he tilts his head just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple. 

"I love you, you know that?" 

You hum softly, nuzzling your face into his neck with a contented sigh, "Love you too."

"Love you so much, sweet girl," he says again, quieter this time, like it’s a truth meant only for you.

"Sap," you tease, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze, the faintest hint of a smile on your lips.

Spencer grins, soft and boyish. "Always for you," he mumbles fondly, and before you can respond, he leans forward, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of your nose.

You stick your tongue out at him in mock protest, but he’s already chasing the moment. A kiss lands on your cheek. Then another on the other side. Each one dripping with easy affection. 

"Spence—" you laugh, the sound bubbling up. It spreads a warmth through Spencer’s chest. 

"My sweet girl," he says quietly, almost to himself. 

His smile only grows as he drinks in the sound of your giggles, tears long gone. He presses a fluttering series of kisses across your form until you’re laughing into his lips, each kiss softer than the last. 

One on your cheek, two on your shoulder, a thousand on your lips.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: false god by taylor swift moon river by frank ocean

[mochinomnoms]

Half asleep past midnight ramblings because I saw a pirate AU mentioned and I know you like Jade so like

Yuu drops stuff off the edge of a ship and into the ocean by accident - maybe some kinda mushroom-shaped pendant idk. And jade ends up catching it and misinterpreted the exchange as a courting gesture somehow. And now Yuu keeps on getting dragged out to deck by the rest of the crew because this bigass mer with bigass teeth keeps jumping aboard and snarling at anyone who approaches him except for Yuu for some reason

And Yuu just keeps having to drop what they're doing to nudge what seems, to them, like quite a placid merman off the deck and back into the ocean, wondering why they specifically have to do that and not believing the rest of the crew when they describe Jade as 'A hissing monstrosity that tried to take a chunk outta my arm!' etc. etc.

Anyway they have a collection of random ocean trinkets that Jade keeps giving them or something. And also Jade saves them from drowning. Floyd follows Jade to the surface once and then there's an issue with TWO mermen tryna hang out on deck but only tolerating two specific crew members and one is the angry redhead who ends up looking super amusing trying to drag a slippery, troublesome eel to the edge of the boat so he can get back to whatever he should be doing

Sorry about the rambling - and sorry if it isn't coherent. My brain needs something to do since I can't get to sleep rn lol.

I don't know a whole lot about pirates other than what I know from my video game...but from I am aware! They spend at least weeks if not months out at sea! I like to think that it takes Jade sometime to watch and actually fall for someone, while Floyd is the one more prone to love at first sight fight

When you guys are around at sea, slowly making your way to the next port, you're not super surprised you've been followed by a pair of merfolk.

They're known to be curious, but unless they're sirens, they're likely to keep to themselves.

But these two have been following the ship for quite some time now, like they're after something specific.

They're practically identical, just a few things like their gray strands of hair and their bi-colored eyes that help with differentiating them. The more excitable of the two seems to be most invested in chasing after your boat.

You can't understand the clicks, chirps, or squeals he makes, but you do notice how excited he gets when your friend Riddle, a crewmate who ran off from home, is on the deck. Riddle seems annoyed and will often yell at the merman, telling him to go away and stop following.

Though the big guy just looks so happy to see Riddle that you think he isn't able to understand human speech. If you had to guess, you think he was following after Riddle. Not sure why though.

You almost forget about the other one, with how quiet he is. You encounter him after dropping a cute little mushroom pendant that you got from a port shop a while back. The moment it plopped into the dark water in the dead of night, you were absolutely devastated. You even took some spare rope and wrapped it around your waist in a tight knot before scaling the side of the ship to carefully make it down to the water.

Hoping and praying to whatever sea god lorded over the current waters you were in that the water was shallow and pendant not lost to the deep, you failed to notice the soft teal aquamarine glow emerging from the water.

When you finally do turn to look at the water, you just about screamed at the upper hand of one of the mermen's face staring at you. Pressing yourself against the wooden hull of the ship, you stared back at him, not even daring to blink, as if he would suddenly lunge at you if you looked away.

Not an unwarranted fear; you and the rest of the crew had seen the way those sharp teeth and claws torn apart large tuna and annoying seagulls.

You think this is the more quiet of the two, based on the lack of reaction and the strand on his left. He seems more quizzical than playful, compared to whom you think is his brother. His eyes flicker down to watch the way your chest moves up and down as you try to calm your breath. He stares for a bit before flickering back up to your eyes, where he resumes his chilling stare.

What felt like hours, but was probably minutes, passed as you two played what was essentially a staring contest. Eventually, made due to boredom, or maybe he was satisfied after studying you so long, his right hand came up from the water clenching something. He gently opened his hand to reveal the golden mushroom pendant, complete with your gold chain and everything.

"Oh! You got it, uh, can I have it back?" You asked, pointing at the item in his hand.

The merman slowly rose up the lower part of his face and upper chest now visible. Looking at him up close, you could understand why they cautioned sailors to keep their distance from all sea folk.

Such pretty faces, it's no wonder people willingly drown themselves just in an attempt to be with one.

The teal colored merman watched as you carefully reached for the item in his hand, only to jerk it away and make a laughing sound. You think it was laughter, based on the smirk and squinted eyes he gave you. You huffed, reaching for it again, only for him to swam back again. His laughter was growing louder, seems that he was just as mischievous as his brother, just sneakier about it.

It almost sounded musical to your ears, too bad you were too focused on getting the pendant back to admire it. Eventually, the creature was far enough out of your reach that you were barely touching the ship with the tip of your toes. It seemed like he wanted you to fall into the water as he playfully splashed at you with the tip of his tail. You knew he was playing, if he really wanted you in the water, that tail had more than enough strength to wrap around you and drag you in.

But still, you wanted that damn pendant back! He seemed fascinated by the mushroom itself and the detailing on it. His claws kept tracing over the ridges and he was studying it intently when he wasn't staring at you. He's probably never seen one before. That's when a brilliant idea popped into your head!

Gesturing him to wait, you climbed back up the rope, turning back every time to check and see that he was still there. The big guy seemed a bit annoyed, disappointed even, that you were leaving. No matter, you'd be back soon enough with a bargaining chip.

It takes a moment for you to finally make your way back up, huffing and your arms straining from pulling your self up. Riddle, bless his heart, had rushed out after hearing your scream earlier and was pacing around the deck waiting for you to return.

"There you are! I saw you with one of the mermen, did you get hurt? Do you need medical attention? Come to the infirmary, I'll check you up—"

You waved him off, struggling to undo your knot, blurting out something about you being fine and needing to trade. Finally managing to stumble into the sleeping quarters and to your cot, digging against your blanket and bags to finally find a small pouch.

Smiling at your victory, you ran back up to the deck to find Riddle struggling with the rope and one of the mermen. You're pretty sure it's the other one: his strand is on his right side and he's a lot more vocal as he tried climbing up the side of the ship using the rope and digging his claws in the hull.

Poor Riddle was struggling to get the merman's arms off of his, the latter's grasp tightening the more he struggled to get out.

"Damn it Floyd! I told you! Leave!" A kick. "Me!" An inhumane yelp. "ALONE!"

The merman looked almost disappointed as Riddle finally managed to kick him in the face and crawl away from his grasp.

Riddle was heaving as he glared at the pouting merman, watching as he finally lost his claw grip in the wood and slid back into the water with a loud splash. You helped your friend up, checking him over for any stratches or bite marks.

"So it is you that they're following! I'd been wondering way they were so focused on our ship, but how do you know his name?"

Riddle sighed, nodding his head. "I apologize. I was hoping that he wouldn't remember me from our childhood, it's been so long, but..."

He dragged his hands over his face in exasperation. "He has a perfect memory when he wants to. He used to visit the reefs near my hometown, I ended up meeting him there when I was younger. He was so annoying! Liked to poke and prod at me anytime I visited the beach, I thought I finally managed to get rid of him when I left home, but it seems that he's found me."

"How can you understand them?"

"Ah, they can speak and understand common tongue. They just choose to feign ignorance." Riddle muttered to himself as he slipped off his now soaking jacket.

You watched your friend as he wrung out the water in his clothes from who you now know is Floyd. Pursing your lips, you looked toward the rope, now splayed across the deck, and move toward it.

"Do you know the other one's name?" you asked, tying the rope back to your waist.

"Hmm? His twin? I think it's Jade, why do you want to—what are you doing?"

Riddle suddenly stood watching in horror as you slipped over the ledge of the ship once again.

"He's got my pendant, gonna get it back—"

"No! You going down there is how Floyd got up, get back here!" Riddle marched over, stomping his foot and reaching for you just as you jumped. "I'll get you another, one with rubies in it—HEY!"

Using the momentum from the fall, you planted your feet against the hull as you landed against it, looking down at the water again. This time, both mermen were watching you as you climbed down, though the one you though was Floyd looked upset and bored, swimming up to the hull to make small crying noises to Riddle, you assumed.

As you got closer, the one called Jade came closer, apparently interested that you returned. Once you were finally within each other's reach again, you gestureed for him to come closer.

By this point, his brother was behind him watching curiously as you held up the pouch in your hand, opening it and revealing a white button mushroom.

Jade perked up, looking between your pendant and the mushroom in your hand. You pointed at the pendant in his hand, before remembering what Riddle said.

"Oh yeah, he said you could understand me." Jade didn't betray that he understood you, though his ear fins twitched as you spoke.

"Uh, if you give me that—" you still pointed to the pendant, just incase he was wrong. Though Riddle rarely was. "—then I will give you this!" You pointed back to the white mushroom in your hand.

Jade looked excitedly at the mushroom, nodding as you two traded. Sighing in relief, you pulled the chain over your neck and tucked it into your shirt. You readied to climb back up to the ship again before glancing at Jade.

He was poking at the mushroom, turning it round in his fingers. He seemed almost childlike in his wonder with the fungus, it was almost cute. Right up until he tore it in half and dropped it into the water, watching it float.

"What, no!" You whined, startling him as you gestured between him and the mushroom.

"No! No, no, no! That's a waste of a perfectly good mushroom! Do you know how hard it is to get those at ports? You're supposed to eat it!"

Exasperated, you opened your pouch again and handed another to Jade, though this time he eyed your hand warily.

"...What? Do you think I'm gonna posion you? Look—" You tore it in half, like he did earlier, and popped one half into your mouth. "Shee? Yummy!"

He still looked doubtful as you chewed. Rolling your eyes, you extended your arm out to his face, making him jerk away again.

"Just, try it! Come on!" You pushed against the hull again, on your tiptoes, as you held out the mushroom towards his lips.

"I'll even feed it to ya! Say 'aaaah'."

Jade looked at your open mouth and, you swear on your soul, blushed before looking away. He thinned his lips, eyes flickering back at you again with an almost shy expression. Floyd, in the background, was staring curiously, before making a chirping sound. Jade made a similar sound back, before looking at you between his lashes and bashfully taking the mushroom from your fingertips.

You tried not to jump from his teeth scraping you and his cold lips brushing against your skin. Instead, you stilled yourself, holding your breath as he chewed.

"It's good, right?"

Jade paused swallowing and slowly nodding before opening his mouth.

"Yes, it's quite...nice." You were surprised how smooth and human his voice was. It as almost soft, a stark difference from his sharp ends and edges. Pleasant.

You shook your thoughts from your head. You refused to be one of those lovesick sailors.

"Right...well, thanks! I'll be, uh, heading back now."

You actively chose to not look back as you climbed up, though perhaps you should have. You could have seen the way Jade watched you, like your were Aphrodite emerging from the sea foam to the land.

"What I tell ya Jade?" Jade continued watching you climb up, eyeing the way Riddle dragged you to the boat, though he flicked his ear fin towards Floyd. "I told you that the lil shrimp was just your type!"

Floyd giggled as he swam on his back, circling his brother. He paused to listen to the way Riddle was yelling at you. So cute.

"Aren't you glad you joined me? I get my Goldfishie, and you'll get a little Shrimpy out of it! Mama and Pops will be so happy when we bring them back home!

"Yes...we'll have to do it soon though." Jade smiled as he watched you and Riddle peer over the edge. You waved at him, and he back at you. His smile grew as you excitedly waved even harder speaking to Riddle before your friend dragged you away.

"The farther we get, the less time we have to return to Azul. His water-breathing spell will only last so long."

"And whose fault is that?" Floyd scoffed, flicking water at his brother in annoyance. "I wanted to take my mate and his friend since day one, you're the one who wanted to 'study' them and stuff. I know you best, if I tell you that the shrimp is perfect for you, you oughta listen!"

Jade glared at Floyd, who stuck his tongue at him, before softly laughing.

"You're right Floyd, of course you know me so well." Jade stared back up at the ship, as if his gaze alone would beckon you to return to him. "The water's warm, there's a storm coming from the east, where they've been traveling."

Jade dove into the water, his brother following him.

"The storm is large and coming soon, and the wood over here is damaged." Jade gestured to a part of the hull that was starting to rot, water slipping in. "If we cause the ship to take in more water, it will sink. They only have a few of those smaller boats, and much too many crew."

Floyd grinned as he caught on to what his brother was implying.

"Everyone will probably be scrambling to get on them boats—"

"Precisely, and with the chaos of a storm, will be much too busy to notice two of their crewmates snatched by a pair of mermen."

The twins shared a conniving laugh, following the ship into an unseen storm in the dark of night.

Something that few people ever mentioned, as it was quite rare, was that once a merperson fell for someone, they also were determined to drag them into the deep, never to be seen again by the people of the surface.

[azsazz]

Dead by Dawn (Part 19)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, sex, anal, double penetration, fingering.

Word Count: 4689

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18)

_________________________________________

Day 195 Part 5

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“What did you just say?” Nesta’s tone is flat, as if all of the emotion that was previously pouring from her soul miraculously disappeared as her walls slammed back up. It’s eerie, how she does that. She sounds like death incarnate, and not the undead zombie kind. Her face is stony, silver glare sharp as a blade, and the way she won’t stop staring at you makes your throat seize.

Maybe you shouldn’t have blurted the conclusion you’d come to upon examining Elain’s wounds. She’s surprisingly coherent for someone bitten by a zombie four weeks ago, and with the symptoms you noticed, her mucus changing from black in color to clear, her fever on the verge of breaking, coherent enough to form full sentences, she seems as well on the mend as she would be with any other sickness.

But how could this disease possibly work that way? Yeah, it seems too fucking simple, really, like an age-old gotchya! movie moment that’s going to kick you all in the ass later on. How could any of these creatives possibly have nailed such an ending like this? A cure for the zombie apocalypse? In the blood of a singular family? Well, as far as you can tell, anyway. Been there, done that, seen that in the cinemas three times over, but you ate it up every single time.

Now that you’re living it, you can confirm that everything about the apocalypse is not that exciting and not that cinematic.

The only sound in the room is Feyre’s soft whimpers of pain. She’s out cold, succumbed to the virus threatening to take control of her body, but she’s breathing, even if it sounds like she swallowed a harmonica. Her restless unconsciousness, at least, draws Rhys’ attention from where he’s still being stiff-armed by Cassian. You’re not angry with the way he reacted to your help…or lack thereof. You’re just as worried about Feyre as he is, as anyone in this house is, and you glance at your best friend as if you can will it into her to survive by looks alone.

It's hard to see her like this, but you hold firm to the notion that the Archeron family can defeat the odds stacked against humanity, and that she’ll pull through.

You give yourself a nod of reassurance and straighten your spine as you shift your gaze from Feyre to her oldest sister. Those piercing gray eyes are soul-sucking in their own way, but you know that Nesta is a terrified girl somewhere beneath all of that iron and nails. Not only has she almost lost one sister to a zombie bite, but now two? You can’t imagine how she’s feeling in a time like this, and you feel helpless that there isn’t anything more you can do.

“Your blood,” you answer, and are shocked by how strong your voice sounds. Even Rhys looks up from tenderly attending Feyre when you speak, stroking her damp hair from her forehead. You shake your head, continuing. “Look, I couldn’t even begin to explain the science behind my thoughts, but from what I’ve seen of Elain’s wound, it’s that the virus is no longer eating away at her. It’s like when her body finally began combatting against the bite, it just…” You trail off, chewing on your lip as you think. You begin pacing, sorting through your racing thoughts. You hardly notice Eris gently steer Nesta away from you and toward a chair, helping her lower into it. Her spine stays rigid, there is no admitting defeat in front of strangers.

“Froze,” she supplies, and a knowing look washes over her face. She’s still glaring at you with those sharp, silver eyes, but at least she isn’t looking at you like she’s actually going to slit your throat for your crazy theories.

“Right,” you agree. Feyre makes another weak noise of protest, like she’s reliving the nightmare of when she was bitten. How scared she must have been, out there alone with Rhys, searching for you, Azriel, and Cassian and a place to call your own. You should’ve never split up.

You tear your gaze from your friend, sliding it down to the arm you wrapped in gauze. You’re terrified to look, to see if the black of the virus in her veins is actively eating at her. The onyx blood polluting her veins travels from the site of the bite, winding all the way down to the tips of her fingers, the black leeching into an intricate spiderweb pattern of her veins. Slowly, carefully, you ease the sleeve of her shirt back above the wound and peek under. The release of breath you let out makes you realize how truly exhausted you are. The wound hasn’t crept any higher yet, hasn’t continued making its way toward her heart, so you take it as a good sign, for now. You’ll have someone monitor her throughout the night.

 “Whatever is in their blood is fighting back against the infection,” you explain. “I don’t know how, or if there’s anyone else out there who’s blood can do the same,”—that is a conversation for later, you note, noticing the weary glance shared between Nesta and Eris. You redirect the end of your sentence to Rhysand, who murmurs something softly in Feyre’s ear, his attention completely focused on what you’re saying. “But all we can do now is wait.”

You lean into Azriel’s side when he sidles up beside you, reading your wearied fatigue on your face. His body is solid and warm and you want to both nuzzle closer and step back, all too aware of how you might smell, the things you’ve touched today. It’s the first time you’ve felt this dirty in a long while. You’ve gotten used to the second, and third, and fourth layers of skin in the form of muck and grime. You ache to get clean.

Azriel doesn’t let you get far, sliding a hand around your waist and pulling you into his broad chest. You hope that the few layers of filth can cover the blush creeping up your neck. This still feels so new with him, the silent, stoic man who you’d figured wouldn’t dare show his rivals his weakness like this. Something must have happened while he and Cassian joined Nesta and Eris in finding your friends if he’s allowing them to see the intimacy between you two.

Public displays of affection are definitely more Cassian’s thing. Case-in-point, he’s grinning like his smile is going to split his face in two, hazel eyes sparking at the picture you and Azriel paint. It’s one that makes his cock twitch, the urge to drag the both of you somewhere private is strong.

He bounds over with a swagger that looks more like he should be striding shirtless down the beach instead of across a fancily decorated zombie shelter in the form of a man’s home that tried to kill you. You can’t take your eyes off of him, how his muscles jump with each long stride, right until he smothers the both of you in a warm embrace in which you easily accept.

“And what of Elain’s progress?” Nesta clears her throat. You open your eyes and catch Eris giving her a nudging reprimand that she ignores. That’s fine, because you don’t feel bad about being with your boyfriends, either. “She’s been like this for weeks. Borderline delusional, spouting lines like she’s a psychic. She may have been able to fight off the virus, but at what cost? Will we ever see our Elain again?”

It's the first tremble of fear you hear from the unfaltering eldest Archeron. And it’s the money question, the one that you have no more of an answer to than how their blood is stopping the infection from the bite.

You shake your head softly and Nesta’s jaw clacks as her teeth snap shut. She shoves up from the chair she’s sitting at and casts a longing look to Feyre. “Well, then. You’ve upheld your part of the bargain and brought my sister back to us, so you can stay.” It looks like it just about kills her to say it, but Eris looks proud. He even offers you a genuine smile. “We’ll take shifts monitoring her health. Until it’s your turn, you can sleep in the basement.”

You hide the instinctive shudder that spindles down your spine. You and basements don’t have a great record, but Eris’ accompanying words do sweeten the deal.

“There’s a fully stocked bathroom down there, with running water. Please, utilize it to your liking.” You don’t know if this is a polite way of telling you that you stink to the high heavens, but you don’t care. They have running water.

You almost sprint down the stairs on that promise alone, but the two men holding you close don’t let up when you try to squirm away.

Cassian grins at you, amused. You try not to pout, but you can’t wait to step under that clean water. You don’t even care if it’s warm, you just want to rid yourself of too many days of filth to count.

And the idea of showering with Cassian and Azriel…your brain almost short-circuits in your head. You’ll feel much more comfortable with their mouths on your skin if you’re freshly clean, which means that there will definitely be loads of fooling around tonight, if the exhaustion doesn’t drag you down first.

“I’ll take first watch,” Rhys says, already planting himself in a chair beside Feyre’s bad arm. He takes her hand gently in his, cradling it as he watches her face contort and sweat drip down her temples. You hurt for the both of them, wishing that there was more that you could do.

Azriel’s lips catch your temple in a long peck. You meet his gaze as he pulls away, and the look on his face tells you and Cassian to go ahead, that he’s going to speak to Rhys.

You nod and allow Cassian to guide you back into the depths of the home.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“I don’t know how the fuck we’re supposed to sleep under the same roof as that,” Cassian shivers and you glare.

“Cassian,” you hiss, swatting his arm. He winces, rubbing his bicep and shooting you an apologetic look. “Her name is Elain, and she’s clearly still alive,” you bite, because he’s being unnecessarily rude. Yes, she looks like she looks like the mother of zombies, but she’s still a person, or half of one, anyway.

And Feyre’s currently in the same boat.

You wanted to wait for Azriel to shower, you really did, but the enticing call of the clear waters and the steam when Cassian switched the faucet on was like a siren call. There was no denying yourself any longer, and if Azriel finishes his conversation with Rhys within the next hour or two, you’re pretty sure he’ll be able to join you.

For now, you have Cassian. Honestly, you would have taken a small bucket of water and a rag and made do. You were not expecting a luxurious bath in the basement of this luxurious home, and not only is the shower humungous, but it has multiple showerheads.

Multiple.

You think that your bad luck might finally be turning around.

“Sorry,” he shrugs, sheepishly, and you tug him closer to you by his forearm because the suds dripping down his face almost slide into those big hazel eyes of his with the way that his head is turned down to stare at you apologetically. Quickly, you wipe away the soap. You don’t need to hear him whining if it gets in his eyes, you’d like to enjoy the rest of your shower.

You tut, reluctantly accepting his apology. It’s much easier to when his large hands slide around your waist and tug your body into his. The both of you have refrained from touching thus far, much too interested in the running water and scraping your bodies free of dirt, but now that you’re significantly less dirty, you allow yourself to roam your eyes across every inch of delectable skin he has on show. And you mean every single inch.

Your breath catches in your throat as your body slides against his, leaving no room between you. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck where you play with it, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

You can feel his cock filling with need. Despite the hot water beating across your back, your nipples pebble when your chests meet in a deep inhale.

“Cassian,” you breathe, fingers tightening between the strands of his hair. His eyes grow with need, the same need that’s coiling in your gut, begging for attention, for the friction pressed against your stomach.

“Yes?” He teases, but his voice is deep with need. You trail your fingers across his shoulders, unable to keep yourself from wandering. You’d press even closer if there was room to, but there isn’t, so you continue your path down his muscular arms, back up, and then trail your touch down his chest, right between your bodies where you can grip his cock.

Cassian hisses out a sharp breath as your fingers wrap around him. It’s been days since you last fooled around, and he’s never cared about cleanliness, but the fact that he can see what you look like not covered in grime and old blood…you’re fucking breath-taking.

“Touch me,” you beg softly. “I need you to touch me.”

Cassian doesn’t hesitate. His hands wind around your thighs and then he’s hoisting you up into his arms with ease. You wince, nails clawing at his shoulders while you worry about his leg but he shakes his head. He doesn’t even give you the chance to ask because his head dips low, his mouth capturing yours in a desperate kiss.

You part your lips for him, kissing him just as hotly, moaning when his tongue traces yours. You pour everything into the kiss, the emotions wearing on you from days spent locking them up. The loss of half of your group, Feyre being bitten, finding all this. It’s overwhelming in the best way, even more so when Cassian’s fingers skim across your slit, causing you to moan loudly, arching into his chest.

“Fuck,” he curses. His chest heaves against your own as he pulls away to drink in your features as he grips your hips and pulls you even harder against him. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the friction of his cock against your soaked slit. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“No, you,” you protest breathlessly, unsure if you’re even making any sense. It doesn’t matter right now, anyway, not with the way you’re dragging your nails down the muscle of his back, telling Cassian that you want more.

His laugh warms your body. It settles between your thighs, the ones that he looks like he wants to settle between. The door opens, stealing both of your attention.

Azriel steps through, running a hand through his dark hair. His lips are pressed in a firm line, his eyes downturned toward the ground. Whatever happened during his conversation with Rhys weighs heavily on him, you catch the flash of sadness in his eyes when he lifts them to meet yours before they fall down you and Cassian’s bodies, drinking in the way you’re entwined with each other.

And Azriel’s gaze heats. Makes you squirm in the best fucking way because you need him just as badly. You want him pressed up against your back, kissing at your neck with his fingers trailing possessively down your body and he and Cassian fight for dominance over you. As he worms his way into your ass, Cassian at your front.

You want both of them, and you want them now.

The words are stuck in your throat, but Azriel sees them. He always does, which is why he wastes no time at all shedding his clothes before entering through the glass door of the shower when you raise your hand to him.

His hazel gaze doesn’t leave yours, not even when Cassian gets back to work, growling deeply against your neck as he ravages you. You release a mewl of pleasure, one hand clamping around the back of his neck to keep him buried against your throat.

Azriel doesn’t stop under one of the many showerheads pouring water. Doesn’t pause at the warmth that drapes itself down his body in a way you could only wish to imitate with the flat of your tongue. He wears the water as well as he wears anything, and his stride doesn’t break until he reaches you.

He caresses your face with a firm hand to your jaw, guiding you right to his lips. He’s sinful with the way that he kisses, knows exactly what to do to make you fucking melt. Even Cassian pulls away to watch the both of you devour each other, and you can feel him growl lowly in his chest, pleasure spiking the temperature of the room to boiling.

You’re so dazed after Azriel’s kiss that you barely catch his words, too busy chasing the taste of his mouth to hear. “Let me wash up first, and I’ll be right here,” he explains, his fingers trailing scalding lines down your back. The tips of his fingers trail right between the crease of your cheeks, a teasing brush over your hole. You shudder with pleasure, automatically leaning further into Azriel for more. You whine when he pulls away, but he kisses you harshly before stepping away completely. “I’m filthy, sweetheart, and you’re all pretty and clean.”

“Make a mess of me, Az,” you keen as Cassian slips a thick finger into your cunt. It slides in with little resistance and you clench around his digit. The both of them threaten to overwhelm you already, and you don’t even have one of their cocks inside of you. How will you be when both of them are sheathed inside of you? “Please.”

“Fuck,” he groans, staring at you up and down. You look like a pretty doll all perched up in Cassian’s arms, ready for the taking. Azriel forces himself a step away, but his hot gaze doesn’t slip from yours. “Let me clean up while Cassian stretches you and I’ll be right there.”

You agree with a huff that shifts into a whine as Cassian teases that finger in a circle, brushing up against your sensitive spot. You hardly get to revel in the feeling before he’s moving further back, pulling out just to press the tip into your ass.

“Relax,” he murmurs against your cheek, peppering encouraging kisses to your face as he slowly works his finger inside of your rear. It’s a foreign feeling, but it doesn’t hurt. You focus on the feeling of his lips on your skin, craning your neck to find his mouth with your own as you force your muscles to relax. “That’s my girl.”

You shudder at those words, liking them all too much.

Half of your time is spent kissing the daylights out of Cassian while the other half of the time is spent ogling Azriel. The delicious curve of his body as he washes the sins of the apocalypse from his body, all so that he can revel in the sins of yours. You can’t help but watch him, the way his muscles contract and contort with his motions. You wish you were the bar of soap he drags down his abs. You swallow harshly when that bar of soap makes it to the vee of his hips and he circles his cock, cleaning himself.

When you rip your eyes away from the display, you catch his hazel ones, glittering with amusement.

You don’t think you can wait all that much longer.

“Quit teasing her, Az,” Cassian groans when you slide yourself against his cock again. It’s a lame attempt at trying to catch his tip so you can sink yourself on him, and when it doesn’t work, you find yourself reaching a hand between your bodies. You can’t wait any longer, you need something inside of you right now or you might burst, but Cassian quickly catches your wrist in his hand, drawing you away from your trophy. “She’s ready.”

You preen at his words, turning to look at Cassian eagerly. His grin is so fucking charming that it makes your heart skip in your chest and you can’t help but lift yourself up to catch his lips against yours, thanking him for being so gentle with you.

“You want to do this in here, pretty girl?” He asks, wiping a strand of hair plastered to your cheek away. His thumb strokes softly against your face, and his eyes are filled with adoration.

“Yes,” you plead. “Yes, yes, please. I want the both of you right here,” you shake your head profusely. Emotions well your eyes. You don’t think that you’ve ever been this aroused before, and not only by one man, but with his companion that has taken you so long to win over. It’s the best thing you’ve ever done and you would do it all over again if you had to.

You turn in Cassian’s arms, reaching for Azriel as he finally nears. He’s as squeaky clean as you are, and he looks utterly fucking edible, even more so when he falls easily into your kiss and plasters himself against your back, trapping you between him and Cassian.

“Please,” you whine again when his lips move from yours in favor of tracing down your skin. His fingers are hot, impatient as they glide across your body, gripping and squeezing every inch of you. Cassian’s doing much the same, and the feeling of the both of them against you is overwhelming in the best possible way.

Azriel hushes you, nipping at your earlobe. Over your shoulder, he makes eye contact with Cassian, who nods. Oh-so slowly, does Azriel take his cock in hand and tease it through your seam, notching the head of himself right against your hole.

“Do it,” you breathe, already arching backwards into him. Azriel doesn’t waste any time, and the both of you release a long, drawn out hiss as he slowly edges his cock into your ass.

“You okay?” He mutters into your ear, though he doesn’t think he could stop himself if he fucking tried. You’re too tight around his cock, if he doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut, he’s going to cum, and he hasn’t even given one full pump inside of you yet. Hell, Cassian hasn’t even worked himself inside of you yet, either. He needs to chill the fuck out.

“More than,” you groan in pleasure. Your fingers curl into the back of his thigh where you’re holding onto him for dear life. “Cass, baby, please!”

“Alright, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your mouth, distracting you as he presses slowly into your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

And they’re so big. Gods, it’s like they’re fucking ripping you in half. You’ve never felt better though, being stretched by the both of their cocks almost makes the apocalypse and everything you went through worth it.

Azriel grunts at the feeling of Cassian’s cock grinding slowly into you. He can feel it through the wall of muscle that keeps him away from Cassian, and holy fuck, it’s better than anything he’s ever done before.

When Cassian comes to an agonizing stop, his hips meeting yours, there’s a stillness in the air. The three of you take a deep breath as one, and it feels like everything that has been waiting to click into place finally does.

It feels like you can finally breathe.

The three of you are attached as one, and you know that in this moment, that there is no leaving each other again. All for one, and one for all.

You love them, and they love you, even if no one is emotionally available to admit it in this very moment.

“Move,” you grit, before you take matters into your own hands.

Neither man wastes a fucking second, and you cry out loudly as they both begin jerking their hips into yours.

“Oh, my Gods,” you moan loudly, uncaring if the sounds you’re making seep through the floorboards to the floors above. You wouldn’t care if you took the mountains down with your pleas, with the noises they’re forcing out of your body as long as they keep fucking going. “Don’t stop!”

“Never,” Cassian agrees huskily, and you can hear the promise in his voice. He readjusts his hands under your ass, keeping you upright. He revels in the way your fingers drag down his muscle, how your other hand is thrown behind your head, keeping Azriel close as you kiss hungrily. Cassian watches, enjoying the view.

When you and Azriel break apart, it’s because your head is too busy falling back against his shoulder in pleasure. Azriel’s hazel eyes meet Cassian’s heady look. The both of them are sweating, beads mixing with the water that’s still pouring from the spout above. This is unlike anything either of them has experienced before, that either of them ever thought could happen. They found you, and you’ve all accepted each other. It’s a match made in fucking hell, but there’s nothing better.

Cassian can’t take it any longer. You cry out when he shifts forward, capturing Azriel’s mouth against his own. It’s a messy kiss, one where they grapple for dominance, but it’s so fucking hot that it has the pit of your stomach coiling. Their cocks drive into you even faster as they kiss, more teeth than anything, and you trip into your orgasm, gripping onto them as they continue to plunge into you.

Both men rip apart to watch your orgasm ripple over you. You’re so fucking beautiful, and you arch, preen under their heavy, hungry gazes. Fuck, you want their eyes on you always, you’ll do anything for it.

Your body tremors with pleasure, tightening around their cocks in a way that makes them release twin groans of pleasure.

“I’m not going to last,” Cassian pants, and Azriel agrees with a choked moan. That, and the way that your eyes flutter open, your face contorting with pleasure so quickly after your first orgasm, is Cassian’s undoing. He cums with a loud groan, jerking his hips into you once, twice, thrice more before he’s emptying himself inside of you.

The feeling cascades over Azriel last, and he cums, burying his head in your neck. You moan as his canines pierce your skin, harsh but not enough to break skin. You’d be worried about the feeling if you weren’t drowning in fucking pleasure, the feeling akin to what you’ve come to fear the most. Instead, you bury your fingers in his black hair to keep him in place.

“One more,” Azriel encourages softly, voice weighed down with pleasure. His hand snakes around your body and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Cassian groans when you tighten around them again, milking their cocks for all their worth. To help you out, Cassian dips low and sucks one of your pert nipples into his mouth.

You cum again with a scream that nearly shatters the glass shower door.

“There she is,” Cassian grunts against your wet skin, cuddling you close when you deflate into his chest. You whimper when Azriel slowly removes himself from your ass, and Cassian cradles the back of your head. “You did so well, pretty girl. So good for us.”

You can only nod, exhaustion weighing your limbs.

“Sleep,” Azriel encourages, and his hands find your body in a soothing motion as he helps clean you off. There’s a light press of lips against your cheek but you don’t know if it’s Cassian or Azriel’s doing. Maybe both. You let your fatigue carry you into a dreamless sleep, entrusting both men fully to care for you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36  @bionic-donut @queserasera @applepie02 @azrielsbabyg @arcadianmoonlight @pradaxstyles @illyrian-dreamerdreamer @reiincarnatiion @fuckthatfeeling @shadowsingersmate24 @poppyalice2001 @fallmyriad @sstrohma @tcris2020 @jeannineee @21stcenturytaegi @ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite @lees-chaotic-brain @eternallyelvish @lilah-asteria @randombibitch @st4r-girl-official @nanisearchinginnerpeace @aemondsb1tch @chxosangxl @marigold-morelli @w0nderw0manly

[stuckinmymind22]

zoro x gn! reader

wc: 663

this is the first part of a series "you're in love with me" where you realize that they are in love with you can call them out on it

thanks for voting on this one, i had fun with it, sorry it took so long, i got busy with the holidays, but it’s here now 💕

ace's is done and will be up probably tomorrow and i'm gonna start on sanjis, but lmk if you are interested in any other characters

mildly proof read lol

this goes one of two ways, in both you're being called stupid, both included

it's a chose your own adventure babe!

zoro has been acting strange recently- he was almost too quick to come to your aid, even if it was something you both knew you could handle alone. he’s also been making sure that you eat. recently he brought up a plate for you when you were on duty in the crow’s nest. sure, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink, but that was easy to write off as a consequence of the alcohol that was surely in his veins. but he didn’t leave right away like you thought he would, he stood on the ladder without moving until he saw you take your first bite. on the last island there had been a miscalculation in your provisions and the ship was running dangerously low on alcohol. there was no doubt that the crew was going to run dry shy of meeting their next destination, which was a bigger deal to some of the straw hats than others. it all brings you to the moment he offers you a sip of the last bottle of sake. you’re speechless. you always thought that hell sure would freeze over before he shared his booze and here he is willingly offering you some. you’re trying to figure out what was going on in his head, why he has been acting so strange, then it hits you.  “you’re in love with me.”

denial is a river in egypt

“did you hit your head or sum?” he asks, trying to remain as impartial as possible, but you didn’t miss how he nearly choked at your words. “no, zo, this makes sense,” you say connecting the dots, "you've been acting real weird about me recently, this explains it." you aren’t about to back down from this, not after you wanted this for so long, not until he admits it to himself. “you’re being an idiot,” he rolls his eyes, “do you want some or not?” with a smile you grab the bottle out of his hand and take a swig, sitting down next to him. “i don’t mind you know,” you say taking another sip, “that you love me that is” zoro is confused why he is so drawn to the dangerous smile that plays on your lips. he shakes himself out of it snatching back the bottle and taking a long gulp. you get pulled away by luffy wanting something, but he still feels your presence.  little do you know how those words haunt him for the rest of the night. fuck, you might be right

he's down bad and he knows it

“n-no I’m not,” zoro sputters, his face alight, “are you stupid or something?” “no, no, this is why you’ve been acting strange,” you say, the weight of your revelation still sinking in. “that’s why you haven’t let me out of your sight for the past week, right?” you don’t give him time to respond (not that he would be able to formulate a coherent response anyway). you continue listing all of his abnormal behaviors and fail to notice how his face grows redder with your every word. poor zoro is sinking into his seat hoping to disappear he’s so uncomfortable. he’s certain that he messed everything up and has no idea what to do now. he knows that you’re right of course, it’s kept him up at night, kept him from his precious naps. it took him a while to realize why you never left his mind, and the determining factor came from the fucking cook spewing some bullshit to a pretty woman on the last island. just when he is certain that he ruined whatever relationship you could ever have you turn to him with a big smile.  “it’s a good thing you are though, or else this would be awkward,” you tell him, before he can even think to question what you mean your lips are on his and his brain malfunctions.  maybe it’ll be alright.

masterlist

[mythicmanuscripts]

READER COMBING THEIR FINGERS THROUGH AEMONDS HAIR WHILE OVERSTIMULATING HIM UNTIL HE SEES STARS AND CAN ONLY SPEAK IN HIGH VALERYIAN

SO TRUE ANON SO TRUE

Sub!Aemond smut below the cut, venture down below if you dare.

Being overstimulated until he can barely even think anymore is one of your favourite things to do with him. It took a long time for Aemond to reach a point where he started to enjoy having his limits pushed like that. For months you never even came within seeing distance of anything that may have been harder for him, but over time he started to realise how much he enjoys how his entire mind goes quiet when you do that type of thing with him. He stops feeling so vulnerable after sex with you, stops hiding away and that's when you can slowly start to piece together how much he not only wants, but needs to be taken apart like that.

Aemond is prone to multiple sleepless nights, especially when he's stressed. He does a brilliant job of holding himself together around everyone else and seeming calm and almost nonchalant about everything. Bu then the door closes in your shared chambers and he starts to show his uncertainty and confusion.

It usually takes two or three tough days for Aemond to accept help from you. Of course you can tell immediately that he's starting to go downhill, but at first he always denies it. You've learnt that you have to just let him come to you because if you push him then he'll feel uncomfortable around you and pull away even more.

Anyway point is, I think overstimulation is the absolute best way to help him relax and finally get some rest. Edging and mild pain play are too much fun for him, those are the things he loves, the things that get him blushing down to his chest and mumbling how bad he wants it.

But overstimulation is saved for the times when he needs you to help him feel okay again.

At first you'd try a whole range of different positions for it but within a few weeks you settle on sitting next to him with his leg hooked over your thighs to give you full access. He gets to hide against your shoulder and grip onto you as much as he wants, gets to whine and plead right into your ear so he doesn't have to speak above a whisper.

You make him cum enough times that he's a complete dishevelled mess, that he doesn't even know if he's begging you for more or to stop, not a single coherent thought in his pretty head. You know you've got him right where you want him when his legs start shaking and he stops talking favouring whines and whimpers instead.

Once you've achieved that, you immediately start praising him and sort of just loving on him? That's where the running your hands through his hair comes in. Aemond absolutely LOVES it, especially when you let him play with your fingers on your other hand at the same time.

Aemond used to try and shuffle away when it was over because he would be sweaty and covered in his own cum and he didnt want to make you dirty. Needless to say, you pull him back immediately and he just melts into you. All protests cease the moment he feels your hand in his hair.

You lay like that for a while, playing his hair, stroking his back, kissing his head. Often he'll look up at you for a kiss and you'll end up just gently kissing him, pulling away every now and then to kiss his cheeks and head.

You stay like that until he starts to seem a bit more aware of his surroundings, then you run a bath for the two of you to share before you run down to the kitchens to fetch some water and snacks for him. He'll only eat on two conditions: 1) you handfeed him and 2) he gets to feed you too. Of course those conditions are more than agreeable.

Sometimes Aemond falls asleep the moment you're finished eating and have put the plate away and climbed back into bed. Like the moment his head touches your chest he's out like a light.

Other times he'll have bit more energy than he had before? Make no mistake he's in no state to be around anyone but you, but he's able to talk a bit more with you and seem more alert than he was before you played with him. Usually that's what happens when there's something he needs advice on, or just something he wants to vent to you about. It's only once he's been so thoroughly broken down that he can feel safe enough to tell you what's on his mind and ask you for help.

So yes, playing with his hair is absolutely essential.

[cosmiclily]

.ᐟ chapter six: can you figure me out?

wc: 2.1k

cw: swearing, talk about sex (?)

I was in a terrible, horrible mood. I’d just had the shittiest day of the year—everything that could go wrong, did. And now, to top it all off, I couldn’t even sleep because my stupid fucking roommate was having the loudest sex of her life. It felt like they were doing it in my room.

The girl’s moans were clear as day, cutting through the walls as if they weren’t even there. I shoved a pillow over my head, trying to drown out the noise, but it didn’t help. The frustration boiling in my chest was so intense that, for once, the fact that Vi was having sex didn’t even bother me—not in the way it usually did, anyway. No, I was too mad about my lack of sleep to feel anything else.

Who the fuck does she think she is? I fumed silently, clutching the pillow tighter. Does she think she owns the apartment? That the rest of us don’t need a little thing called peace and quiet?

I stared up at the ceiling, my fists clenched under the blankets. Today had been a disaster—work was hell, the coffee machine broke before i had any coffee, and I’d managed to embarrass myself in front of my boss. All I wanted was to come home, collapse into bed, and sleep off the day. But no. Apparently, Vi and her flavor of the week had other plans.

It wasn’t just the noise—it was the audacity. The complete disregard for anyone else in the apartment. For me. I could practically feel the anger coursing through my veins, making my already pounding headache even worse.

I shot a glance at the clock on my nightstand: 2:37 a.m. Are you kidding me?

Another high-pitched moan echoed through the wall, and something in me snapped. I sat up, the blankets pooling around me, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I didn’t know what I was going to do—march over there and bang on her door? Scream into the void? Move out and leave her a passive-aggressive note about apartment etiquette? All three options sounded equally tempting.

But instead, I just sat there, breathing heavily, my hands clenched into fists. My mind raced with anger, frustration, and the exhaustion of a day that had been far too long.

And yet, under all of that rage, there was something else. A flicker of something I didn’t want to acknowledge. Something that had nothing to do with sleep or noise or the shitty day I’d had. Something that had everything to do with the fact that Vi was in there with someone else.

I shoved that thought down as quickly as it surfaced, burying it under my frustration. No. Not tonight. Tonight, I was just mad. Just tired. That’s all.

But as another burst of laughter and muffled voices spilled through the wall, I felt my anger boil over. Before I could even have a coherent thought, I was already out of my room, banging on Vi’s door like a lunatic.

“Hello!” I shouted, not caring if I sounded unhinged. “There are other people in this apartment who need SLEEP!” And for a moment, there was blessed silence. The noises stopped—no laughter, no moans—just dead, suffocating quiet.

I could hear heavy footsteps moving towards the door, each one more threatening than the last. When the door swung open, it wasn’t the random girl who greeted me—it was Vi. And she looked pissed.

“Oh, so now I’m worth your time?” she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm and anger as she glared at me from the doorway. She was standing there in an old t-shirt, hair messy, her usual confidence dialed up to ten as she leaned against the frame, arms crossed like she was ready for a fight.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Excuse me? I’m trying to sleep, and you’re—”

“No, excuse me,” she interrupted, stepping forward slightly, her eyes burning into mine. “For the past two weeks, you’ve been avoiding me for no fucking reason. Blowing me off, dodging my texts, acting like I don’t even exist. But now, suddenly, you’re banging on my door at two in the morning? Spare me.”

Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I was too angry to back down. “Yeah, because you and your latest fuck-toy are treating this apartment like a damn nightclub! Some of us have responsibilities, Violet. Some of us have actual shit to deal with in the morning!”

Her jaw clenched, and for a second, I thought she might yell back. But instead, she let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Right. Got it. I’m just the irresponsible roommate who’s ruining your life.”

“That’s not what I—” I started, but she cut me off again.

“No, it’s fine. You’ve made it pretty clear where we stand, haven’t you? You can’t even look at me anymore, let alone talk to me. So, you know what? Go back to avoiding me, Y/N. I’ll make sure I’m quiet so I don’t disturb your precious little bubble.” Her voice dripped with venom, but behind it, there was something else—something that sounded a lot like hurt.

I opened my mouth to respond, to defend myself, to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. She stared at me for another moment, her chest rising and falling like she was trying to keep her anger in check. Then, without waiting for a reply, she slammed the door in my face.

I stood there in the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind a mix of guilt, frustration, and something heavier that I couldn’t quite name.

Was she right? Had I been avoiding her so much that I hadn’t even noticed what I was doing to her?

As I trudged back to my room, the apartment felt colder, emptier somehow. The silence that I’d wanted so badly felt suffocating now, and I couldn’t shake the look in her eyes before she shut the door. It wasn’t just anger. It was pain.

I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, and let out a long, shaky breath. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of it was. But now, I had no idea how to fix it—or if I even could.

──────────────────────

jinx💙

we need to talk

you

?? why are you being so serious

what did i do

jinx 💙

you know what you did, meet me at the campus coffee shop @6pm

you

ok

As I made my way to the coffee shop, my mind kept racing, stuck on Jinx’s cryptic text. She rarely *ever* asked to meet up like this, especially not with such an oddly serious tone. Normally, her texts were chaotic, full of emojis, but this one was straightforward, almost... ominous.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I had no doubt it was about my so-called *brilliant plan.* Of course, Jinx had been skeptical from the start. She made her feelings about my avoidance strategy abundantly clear—loudly and with a side of judgment. But why now? Why was she suddenly being so serious about it?

I replayed the last conversation we’d had in my head, the one where she called me out for acting like a complete idiot. She’d said things like, “This is only going to blow up in your face,” and “You’re miserable, just TALK to her already!” At the time, I’d brushed it off, unwilling to admit that she might be right. But now, with this sudden meeting hanging over my head, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew something I didn’t.

When I finally reached the coffee shop, I spotted her immediately. She was sitting at our usual table near the window, sipping on what looked like a hot chocolate, her knee bouncing anxiously under the table. Her blue hair was pulled into two messy buns, and her expression was uncharacteristically serious as she stared out the window.

The moment I walked in, her eyes snapped to mine, and she waved me over. “Finally!” she exclaimed as I approached. “I was starting to think you bailed.”

“Yeah, well, your text kind of freaked me out,” I admitted, sliding into the seat across from her. “What’s this about, Jinx? You’re being... weird.”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and fixed me with a look that was both annoyed and concerned. “Okay, I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” she said, her voice lower than usual. “Your plan? The whole ‘avoid Vi until your feelings magically disappear’ thing? It’s bullshit.”

I blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Wow, thanks for the insight, Captain Obvious,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair. “What else is new?”

“No, you don’t get it,” she pressed, her tone sharp. “It’s not working. Like, on a catastrophic level.”

I frowned, sitting up straighter. “What are you talking about?”

Jinx sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Vi’s been asking me about you,” she said finally. “A lot. It’s annoying, actually. She thinks you’re mad at her or that she did something wrong, but she doesn’t know what it is. And honestly? She’s hurt, Y/N. She’s really fucking hurt.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

“She told me she misses you,” Jinx continued, her eyes searching mine. “Like, *really* misses you. And she doesn’t understand why you’re pulling away. She’s convinced it’s her fault.”

Guilt twisted in my stomach, and I looked down at the table, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t mean for her to think that,” I mumbled.

“Well, congratulations, because that’s exactly what she thinks,” Jinx said, leaning back in her chair with a huff. “Look, I get that you’re trying to protect yourself or whatever, but this whole avoidance thing? It’s not just hurting you. It’s hurting her too.”

“So what do I do?” I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jinx gave me a small, almost sad smile. “You talk to her,” she said simply. “You tell her the truth. About everything. I know you’re scared—scared of losing her or ruining your friendship—but at the pace things are going, there won’t be a friendship left to save.”

Her words were sharp, cutting through the layers of excuses I’d been hiding behind. I opened my mouth to argue, to come up with some kind of defense, but she held up a hand, stopping me.

“Look,” she continued, her voice softening, “I know my sister. She likes to plaster on that tough look, act like nothing gets to her, like she doesn’t care about anything. But trust me, she cares. And right now? I’m worried about her. She’s not herself, Y/N.”

I frowned, leaning forward slightly. “What do you mean?”

Jinx sighed, running a hand through her hair. “She’s... distracted. Off her game. You know how Vi usually is—confident, quick to brush things off? Lately, she’s been... different. Quieter. Like she’s overthinking everything. And I know it’s because of you.”

“Me?” I said, my voice cracking slightly.

“Yes, you!” Jinx said, exasperated. “You’re one of the most important people in her life, and she feels like she’s losing you. Do you have any idea how much that’s messing with her?”

I sat back in my chair, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks. Vi was *hurting* because of me. All this time, I thought I was the only one struggling, that I was the only one dealing with the fallout of my feelings. But I hadn’t considered how my actions—my distance, my avoidance—might be affecting her.

“I didn’t mean to make her feel like that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I know you didn’t,” Jinx said gently. “But intentions don’t matter if the outcome still hurts, you know?” She leaned forward, her blue eyes locking onto mine. “You’ve gotta fix this, Y/N. And not with some half-baked apology or vague excuse. You need to be honest—with her and with yourself.”

The thought of laying everything bare, of telling Vi the truth about my feelings, sent a wave of panic crashing over me. But Jinx was right. If I didn’t do something soon, I was going to lose her anyway.

“Okay,” I said finally, my voice shaky but resolute. “I’ll talk to her.”

Jinx’s expression softened into a small smile. “Good. And Y/N? Don’t wait too long, okay? Vi might be tough, but even she has her limits.”

I nodded, my stomach twisting with nerves. This was it. No more running, no more hiding. It was time to face the truth, no matter how terrifying it was.

──────────────────────

chapters

notes: oohh the girls are fighting, will y/n finally confess?

i feel like jinx in this au is the typical younger sibling that chased vi with a knife but won’t let anyone else hurt her

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.

And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.

She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.

Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on. 

After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy. 

"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."

Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."

"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.

Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.

Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."

"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."

Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."

Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it. 

It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves. 

"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.

She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed. 

But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine. 

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

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

Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.

He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once. 

After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."

"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."

He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."

She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"

Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot. 

Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."

"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"

He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."

He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"

She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."

"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.

"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder. 

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.

When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting. 

He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number. 

"Floyd!"

Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.

"Floyd! Let's go!"

"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"

As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.

Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside. 

He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was. 

"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing. 

"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation. 

"Floyd!"

Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"

He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.

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

"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me." 

He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.

Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.

"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."

Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."

Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."

"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.

"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."

Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."

"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."

But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."

Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.

Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her. 

Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.

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

Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner. 

That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry. 

The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.

"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out. 

The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.

She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.

"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"

She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her. 

"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch. 

"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.

Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from. 

"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."

"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."

Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."

"Ohhh, what did he look like?"

Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"

"Mmhmm."

"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea." 

A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"

"Yes," Anna replied with a nod. 

"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked. 

"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.

And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.

"Was he about six feet tall?"

"Was he slim but not skinny?"

"Did he blush when he smiled?"

"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

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

Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[jmdbjk]

Hello, everyone.

I came by to say something important: I got sidetracked by nekkid Jimin searching for a specific cranberry sauce recipe on Pinterest. You're welcome.

Why is nekkid Jimin on my Pinterest you say? Welllll.... maybe you need to ask Pinterest that question.

Needless to say, I was thrilled to see Jimin's words on Weverse. And then even more thrilled to see Jungkook being typically adorable. It's really hard to put into words the beauty of it all that I see in my mind. It is reassuring to see evidence that where ever they are, whatever they are doing every day, has not changed them at all. And Jin and Hobi jumping in trying to keep up with those two.

Speaking of Jin and Hobi, so it appears they will bring back a little taste of Bangtan Chaos™️ in the next episode of Run Jin. The kidnapping episode of Run Jin looks like it will be about getting Hobi to do the Running Wild dance challenge. Perhaps Hobi will launch his Tiktok after that, by now surely he's found a handle that hasn't already been taken by Armys (heh heh)

Namjoon... oh, Namjoon... I never thought he'd so openly pine for BTS. He can't wait and neither can we.

It snowed a lot in Seoul today, setting records not seen in over 100 years. Those memories from Japan they could recall during their enlistment... and also JK posted snowy pics of Bam that his caretakers sent to him.

Anyway. I didn't mean to stay away from here for so long but after Hobi came back, it seemed difficult to put thoughts into words. There was a lot going on in the world and in my personal life... still is... but during these last six weeks, a lot of stuff also rearranged itself in my mind. A lot of things became more clear. Maybe I can get some of it down in coherent paragraphs at some point soon but trying not to think too hard about it all because that takes the fun out of everything. Know what I mean?

As we wait for the Bing X V White Christmas song and literally in a few hours, Tae's little cinematic MV for Winter Ahead, I want to wish those celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday in the U.S. a Happy Thanksgiving! And everyone else, I hope you all have a great rest of the week and weekend.

[bomber-grl]

For the 1k event can I request either Percy or nico with a gn, or male reader with enemies to lovers. I’d imagine that the reader fought on Kronos side of the war and maybe pulled an Ethan or something and switched at the last minute or was on their side all along.  

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ 1k Follower Celebration! .°˖✧

Prompt list [x]

Trope: Enemies to Lovers | Pairing(s): Percy x Gn!Reader| Art Creds: @/Frostbite.studios(instagram)

A/N: I think the trope may have gotten lost in translation- although it’s still there (?) anyway I hope you still like it 😭

Definitely wary and really depends on what you did during your time in Kronos’ army

If you took more of a backseat and joined merely out of pressure from your siblings then he’d be more understanding with you and your situation

Now, if you had somewhat or tried to hurt anyone he cared about while in Kronos’ army then he will hold resentment but he’s inclined to help you, that’s just his nature.

Let’s go for the latter, for more of a dramatic flair

The first time you had met Percy Jackson was during a side quest that wasn’t relevant enough to remember-

until now…

Your breath ran ragged as you came to a stop. It was difficult to think when you’ve done everything but sleep for the past few days.. or was it weeks?

Your first few coherent thoughts in a while had been cut short when you turned around in the alley to face the monster that had been stalking you for what seemed like an eternity.

You knew you were going to suffer in the fields of punishment as consequence for how you’ve lived your life but you didn’t think you’d get a free trial.

Your eyes caught on a sword that glimmered in the dim sunlight as it teared into the monster, it went in, and then out- and honestly? if anything It seemed like everyone was interrupting you today.

The monster stiffened up and immediately turned to dust- as they always did.

Once the dust got out of your line of sight, your eyes were immediately drawn to the figure that was behind the monster and by extension, your savior.

He approached you, his face of determination and kindness- that was short lived as his face contorted into something similar to disgust or hatred, honestly it was hard to tell the two apart- but he quickly held a hand out.

“So, this is what happened to you” His hand was still outstretched as you took it, it was firm and oddly sweaty as you stood up and then released each others hold on one another.

“Doooo.. we know each other?” Your question obviously made him even more upset(?) but he shook it off.

“You really don’t remember?” He seemed exasperated as you shook your head, he sighed. “Look, I’ll explain what I said later but we’ve gotta go now or that monster won’t be the only one we’re gonna have to fight.”

He didn’t even ask before he started hauling ass- or rather- yours as you were dragged along across alleyways and sidewalks alike until you made it to what seemed like a moderately busy and safer road.

Percy stopped, causing you to stumble into him“I know I said I was going to explain later, but I’ve really gotta go, sorry?” He quickly gave a nod and ran the opposite direction you came.

Well, that was both odd and intriguing. But damn is the curiosity of what he was yapping on about going to bug you.

- some time later-

Ok, so this may or may not be a bad idea but you’ve been stalking the guy that saved you that day and found his base.

It seemed like a a good idea at first but even if you began to think critically, there was no backing out now.

Now you were too close and you figured if he killed you (which heroes tend NOT to do) then you wouldn’t have lost anything but your dignity- which in all honestly was in a shambles at this point.

You quickly made your way onto the fire escape and climbed a behemoth amount of stairs to get there- but alas you’ve made it just outside of the window of the apartment you often see that guy come into.

So, with caution, you step inside and look around.

In all honesty? It was both warm and welcoming.

Two words you weren’t aware were in your vocabulary. Everything from the relaxing scents to the picture frames of the very lived in apartment- it almost made you tear up.

Embarrassingly enough.

Not like demigods could ever have a chance at a so called “normal life.” Not like you’d ever give up your experiences and people you’ve met and loved to start over with one either. Just that it was foreign- and heart crushing knowing you’ll never have a normal life in the same breath.

Your lamenting will get you nowhere.

Annnnd You also let your guard down. There was a creak of the floorboards coming from behind you causing you to whip your head around- almost ready to brawl.

But instead of that teen guy you saw a few weeks ago- there was what appeared to be a middle aged mortal woman.

She was holding something, cookies. Blue cookies. Bizarre color choice, but you wouldn’t comment on that.

It was rude.

She didn’t look necessarily surprised either and smiled kindly at you, she was beautiful.

“Would you like some?” She offered the cookies on the plate that laid in her hands to you, and like any good house guest, you took some.

After a few minutes of munching on said delicious cookies, she turned to you again, “a friend of Percy’s I take it?” She laughed and sighed exasperatedly, as if this was a normal occurrence.

“You could say that” she seemed content with that answer, she was about to speak but you were deeply and utterly betrayed by your body as your stomach growled.

Your face flushed in embarrassment but she didn’t mention it.

Her kind eyes filled with concern, “want something to eat? I was making dinner but I don’t think Percy would mind if you dug into it before he has the chance to.”

She was being casual about it but you could tell she wanted you to take her offer, you nodded and she ushered you in.

Thirty minutes you told yourself, but that turned to an hour and another and another.

You found yourself utterly charmed and enamored by this mortal woman you’ve come to know as “Sally Jackson.”

The first few moments were awkward- at least on your part. Especially when the questions came but it felt nice to talk, it had.. been awhile.

The conversation was drawn out so long that you didn’t feel alarmed when she got up from her place at the couch to welcome Percy in as the door opened- that’s how comforting the woman’s presence was.

However, it suddenly occurred to you to panic as Sally spoke to Percy, telling him of your presence. His confusion disappeared as his eyes flickered towards yours but he didn’t say anything.

In the three hours you’d stayed over- his mothers’ told you many things and included in those things was the fact that Percy was a terrible liar.

The rest of the evening was filled with “subtle” glares and Percy being “sneaky” behind his mother’s back.

Sally Jackson was no fool and began to suspect you two had a not so nice history but chose ignorance and kind words for the evening.

It was until it was getting late that Sally excused herself and made it clear she expected Percy to escort you like any good host.

And then there were two.

-

“So..” Percy eyed you “what are you doing here?”

Your retort came quickly “oh I don’t know trying to find the guy that has nothing but empty promises.”

“Empty-?!” Percy looked offended “just because I didn’t explain to you who I was and how you knew me??”

You stared at eachother, and then you spoke, “yes?”

Percy thought for moment then nodded his head and sighed “yea you’ve kind of got a point.”

And so went the tale about how you two initially met which kind of made it even more confusing but it sort of rings a bell.

“Oh! I get it you’re the guy that tried to slice-“ Percy turned red and quickly interrupted you.

“Not important right now since my group kinda beat your guys in the end .”

You shrugged “guess so.”

There was an awkward silence until Percy spoke up again.

“So.. do you have a place you’re staying at?” His question was sincere but you couldn’t help but feel upset at it.

“Yea” you shuffled your feet while avoiding his gaze.

“Where?”

“…”

After a few seconds you answered “depends on the night.”

Percy stayed silent for a few seconds and then blurted out “you can stay here for the night.”

Your gaze snapped from the floor to his in a second from shock “seriously?? I-“

“But this doesn’t make us friends” Percy’s eyes narrowed, making sure you still know you two have beef.

“Not like I thought it did, just surprised at how nice you are.. almost makes me sick“

“What’d you say?”

“Nothing..”

Percy sighed, “whatever, I’ll bring some blankets and pillows for you to use, you’ll be sleeping on the couch” he paused “if that’s alright.”

“Yea, I’ve slept worse places”

With that he gathered some blankets and pillows from some place else in the apartment, came back and gave them to you on the couch.

“Here, and you’d be best leaving as soon as possible.”

You snuggled into a comfortable position, “not like I’d wanna overstay my welcome.”

With that Percy went back to his room and you tried your best to fall asleep.

Which, happened as soon as he left.

Now, if you may have- by chance- happened to have been woken up by Percys racket while getting water and then being too loud when you two started fighting, causing Sally to wake up and be confused and then prompting you to try to leave after- only causing Sally to be shocked and-

Well let’s just say you ended up having breakfast with the family, Paul included (who was honestly happy meeting one of Percy’s “friends.”)

You and Percy ended up running into each other no matter how much he tried escaping you and vice versa

You’d be walking down the street and bam

On a train and bam

It even seemed like monsters that were chasing you/him were trying to bring you two together

It was like fate was playing some sick trick on you two

Which wouldn’t be completely out of the question

Quite reasonable, actually

It was so often that you two just surrendered and decided to go for a burger or two.

It was the seventh time this week. The seventh time and it was only Tuesday.

Last week was pure hell but now you were sure of it. You were gonna die.

You trudged through the crowds of useless mortal flesh best you could as you rounded the corner.

Not like fighting was an option when you- yet again- had the weapon flung from your grasp before you had a chance to even react.

Damn you’ve really gotta get a new weapon or else you really will be cooked.

You started wondering how you even lasted this long.

You looked back only to see the number of enemies behind you had grown- Two, four- six?!

At this rate you’d need a miracle.

You turned left and to another corner only to bump into the- unfortunately not last- person you expected to see.

“Hey Percy, a little help?” You were already out of breath and weaponless.

“Yea, let me take care of them first” he pointed to the monsters following not to far behind him and started getting the job done.

-

After all the was left of the monsters was ash and dust, Percy turned to face you.

“Look-“

“I-“

You had talked over each other.

“No you can-“

“Go ahead-“

It happened again, and again and again-

“Okay! ENOUGH” your shout had spooked Percy but he still stayed silent.

“Since apparently we’re bound by whatever shitty string this is- might as well just accept it.”

You thought Percy was gonna object or say something sort of mean.

Not that he ever was, but then again not like you were buddies.

“Sure, I was actually gonna say the same thing.”

You were surprised but hid it “cool.”

“Yea, cool.” You two stood there in silence when Percy spoke up again.

“So, wanna go for some burgers?”

“Yea I could go for some”

You started following after Percy when he looked back at you- just to confirm.

“Doesn’t mean we’re friends though.”

“On the same page as you are”

You two continued walking, “good”

Your response came after his, “yep”

-

Despite the insistence that you weren’t friends, it really began to feel that way.

Weeks passed and although you’d hardly see Percy - other times you’d see him all the time.

In which eating together became sort of a norm.

You’d come over to his apartment and eat dinner, or you’d magically see each other in public and eat something at a fast food joint.

Eventually - slowly but surely- you got closer, and closer.. and closer.

One night Percy had you over.

Occasionally Sally would buy fast food as a special treat and tonight was one of those nights.

You two decided to hang out on the fire escape tonight though, and a new topic of conversation was practically a losing game for you.

You tried your best munching on the fries you had shoved in your mouth best you could as you tried to plead your innocence.

“I swear! I swear I was on your side the whole time” Percy laughed, “I still don’t believe you.”

You paused, “at all?”

Percy repeated, “at all.”

“Blasphemy! Why won’t you believe that I was on your guys’ side at all??”

Percy laughed again as I drank his soda, “oh, I don’t know maybe because you literally referred to mortals as burdensome flesh bags?? Well before meeting my mom.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, still sort of convinced your mom’s a goddess in disguise.”

Percy shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation, “I kinda see it.”

You two shared a good laugh as the night went on but then the conversation slowed down, and it was just quiet.

Not as awkward as it used to be though.

“Genuinely though” Percy spoke, causing your head to tilt his way “what did happen?”

You ate the remaining fries left and spoke, “I don’t know honestly, I guess my heart really wasn’t in it anymore.”

Percy hummed in acknowledgment.

You spoke again, “I am, sorry though. I know many demigods at your camp passed because of the war but I’m still bitter.”

Percy glanced at you, “about what?”

You looked him dead in the eyes, “your team only lost like what? 15 demigods? Ours lost hundreds and sure- maybe they were evil but some of them were my friends, my siblings.”

Your voice cracked, fuck.

Percy sat straighter, his eyebrows furrowing “what are you trying to say?”

You sighed, more frustration bleeding into your tone and embarrassingly enough- tears began lining your waterline, “I’m saying, Percy, you lost a lot. But not like many of us on Kronos’ side. You still have your best friends, family, hell you don’t have just one but three places you can seek refuge at. So pardon me for being a little bitter.”

You didn’t need to look at Percy to feel his rage. You’re sure he lost a lot of people too, even felt invalidated by yours words, but he didn’t say anything and except accepted your words- he was just a good guy like that.

“I can see that”

Conversation died down between the two of you as you cleaned up your “dinner” and left his apartment in silence.

So much for trying to get closer to him, or people at all

-

After that you didn’t see each other all that much

It was expected when you insulted him in his own home

Even the monsters seemed to be coming less- that said a lot considering they’d been a nuisance to you both at some point.

And then, you saw him.

And he saw you

“So, are you gonna try and talk to me at all?” A voice rang from behind you.

You hadn’t expected to be interrupted or even interacted with at all, you typically weren’t.

You stood up and faced him, “what’re you doing at Central Park? On a quest I presume?”

-if that disgusting orange t-shirt were anything to go by.

“I’m sorry”

Your head whipped up to face him, “what?”

He spoke again, “I’m sorry, I know things got kinda awkward between us after that” he rubbed his neck then put the cap back on riptide.

“I was pretty insensitive”

You stared at him before giving your own apology, “me too, I’m.. sorry too. I was taking my frustrations and grief out on you when you have no control over what happens.”

You stared at the ground.

“Thanks” you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, he was smiling- almost relieved.

“Yea..”

“Uh, can I ask you something?” You perked up, “sure?”

“Look, I know you’ve been pretty alone and having issues with just surviving-“ he looked embarrassed to be even bringing that up.

“What about it?” You were wondering where he’s going with this.

“Why don’t you come to camp halfblood?”

He blurted it out. You both stared at eachother before you let out a laugh. A good laugh.

“I’m sorry-“ you started laughing again “what? Are you really joking right now?” You were laughing, as one does when someone proposes an idea so insane.

“Yes”

oh.

OH

“Look, even if I do consider going there I won’t fit in-“

“Why not?”

You scoffed, did he really forget? “I defected, I betrayed you guys for some shitty titans that - in retrospect- weren’t any different from the gods. The side that killed many of your fellow campers’ siblings…need I go on?”

“Ok that’s a pretty good point but you don’t know until you try?” Usually Percy could convince you of anything. He was just hopelessly determined like that but this time.. well it just wasn’t working.

“No.” You began walking away.

“Wait! Just consider it?” He walked up to you, surprisingly fast.

“No, just leave me alone Percy” you moved your shoulder so that his hand would miss.

But he just.. wouldn’t relent.

He followed you all around Central Park, not once, not twice, but 10 fucking times!!

You turned around “what?!! Why do you keep following me if we’re not even friends??”

Your little outburst seemed to have surprised him a bit, be he didn’t even hesitate before he spoke.

“I actually do see you as my friend now, as weird as that might be.” He smiled bashfully at you- as if that’d change your mind.

“Oh.. well that doesn’t mean I’ll walk myself to a trap and wait to be jumped.”

You turned back around and began walking off again.

You heard Percy faintly sigh

Finally, he gave up

-

You were a fool.

Percy kept trying to convince you to fully make amends with those camp halfblood goons

It didn’t work, you let your guard down.

Which was actually becoming a bad habit by now.

You sat on the roof of Percy’s apartment. The view was beautiful.. almost as beautiful as he was.

Not like it was a weird thought, seeing as from what you could gather from his stories, it was a fact. He had somehow managed to pull so many people it was almost laughable. Though, now you were starting to see the vision.

“Hey!” It was distant, familiar and coming from the ground.. it was Percy

“Come down here!” You leaned over the edge of the roof that let you see Percy’s distant form on the ground below. “My moms cooking something and wanted you to come over and eat”

You sighed, the cold air rushed against your skin on the roof just right. You decided to follow Percy inside as you leapt off the roof and landed next to him.

“Well? Let’s go” you smiled, and Percy smiled back at you.

You went inside the building and climbed up the stairs, the door to his apartment opened and Percy ushered you in, the warmth of the apartment wasn’t the only welcoming factor.

-

After dinner you joined Percy outside on the fire escape. He turned to you, “have you reconsidered?”

Confusion must’ve been evident on your face, “reconsidered? Reconsidered what?” You laughed, not sure what he was cooking up.

“My offer, yknow about coming to Camp Halfblood”

Oh.

“Look, I was really rude to you last time when you asked so I’m sorry about that. But I haven’t changed by mind, I don’t think I will.”

Percy stood straighter, “why not? I mean, I know it might be difficult because of you being on Kronos’ army and stuff but there’s got to be another reason.”

You sighed, “I don’t know, I guess it’s just hard for me.”

“Hard for you?”

“Yea” you rubbed your hands together, chasing away the cold. “I guess I’m just used to being alone. It’s a miracle I even managed to befriend you at all Percy�� you smiled at him but it fell from your face as you stared at the moon“I.. I guess I’m just scared.”

“Of what?”

…

“I don’t know”

“Well, what if I were the one that introduced you? To everyone I mean”

“I guess”

It took awhile, for you to build some courage that is.

Anxiety had you in a chokehold when you two decided to take the Chariot of Damnation to Camp halfblood

Though, the actual ride didn’t seem to make you feel nauseous or anything- not like the same could be said for Percy.

You were welcomed in like any demigod but once the situation was explained by Percy- well there were a few stares and chatter.

Not like it was anything compared to.. well your entire life.

It wasn’t all that bad, you sat at your godly parents table at dinner despite Percy’s want for you to sit at Poseidons

It wasn’t until you were all served that people were getting up from their seats.

They were all approaching the fire that was lit at the center of the pavilion and began giving their offerings.

It was.. disgusting.

You sighed, you knew you didn’t belong in this place and only proved yourself an even bigger fool with your false hope.

You stood up and snuck away, hoping you wouldn’t be noticed

But of course, Percy did

Finally, finally you made it to the lake that you heard about from the other campers chit chat. You sat down near it, playing with the loose sand and occasional rock.

It was late, and you heard most campers would get ripped to shreds but you simply didn’t care. You stayed there, and then you heard a stick snap.

You weren’t alarmed as it was immediately followed by Percy’s familiar and comforting voice. “Hey, why’d you leave?”

He sat down besides you on the sand and looked your way. He wasn’t upset.. more like concerned.

“I think the idea of giving offerings to the gods is absurd.”

Percy nodded, “figured, but just wanted you to confirm before making an assumptions, no matter how obvious.”

“Sorry” you spoke hesitantly after a bit, I mean he was so happy to bring you by and this is how you reward him.

“It’s fine, how do you feel though?”

“I’m fine, just wanna know if that’s gonna be mandatory.”

Percy laughed, “pretty sure, but that can’t be the only thing that caused you to be upset, right?”

“Yea, you’re right.” You sighed and continued distracting yourself by playing with the dirt.

“I guess the whole day was just terrible, I know people like to talk but if this is how it’s going to be everyday then I’m not so sure about staying here.”

Percy sighed, “yea I guess so”

You stood up and began walking back the way you both came from.

Percy shot up from his seat, “where’re you going?”

You turned to face him slightly, “back to New York, where else?”

“Seriously? Can’t you atleast stay the night?”

You turned back to face the front and started walking, all while Percy followed after you wondering how you could be so difficult, and occasionally voicing some of those thoughts.

Finally, you neared the entrance of Camp halfblood when he shouted something so absurd and clearly reckless.

“Can’t you just stay here with me?”

You paused and whipped around to face him, “what?”

Percy stammered, “look, I-“ he sighed “can’t you stay here, knowing that you’ll be here with me?”

Confusion racked your brain, like the question was so outlandish and absurd “Why would I?”

Percy seemed shocked but he answered bashfully and reluctantly, “because.. don’t you like me?”

He stared at you while you stared at him.

You blinked “What.”

“You heard what I said” he turned slightly away from you before seemingly deciding to be confident, I mean he might as well be at this point.

“I asked because…Hey!” You turned back around and marched right out of camp as he pursued you not too far behind.

Your ears were burning hot, a stark contrast between the cold wind gliding off your face as you continued -undeterred- to wherever.

‘Was he an idiot?? How could he even.. maybe you did like him..’ you slapped yourself and continued as Percy followed you.

‘No way you actually started considering the possibility’

Percy ended up helping you find a way back “home” and to say the lightning fast car ride back in the grays sisters’ taxi was awkward would be a severe understatement.

Days passed per usual and so did how it usually was with Percy

Except for the fact that whenever you two spoke it was like he was holding back and hoping for something all in the same breath.

It was confusing and tonight you had enough of that beautiful idiots weirdness.

Ambush it is.

Ok so maybe you shouldn’t have ambushed Percy in his own home, yknow just a thought.

Considering Percy immediately pushed and pinned you against the wall by the entrance on pure reflex.

He immediately released you and looked shocked, he backed away releasing you “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“-Wait, why are you here? I barely got home and my mom and Paul are out.”

“Exactly”

“Exactly?”

“Perfect time for an interrogation, don’t you think?” Percy laughed just the way you loved almost offensively. “Seriously? You could’ve just asked me whatever you wanna know, not “ambush me””

He giggled at his own air quotes.

“Yea well I didn’t know if you actually would.”

Percy smirked, “try me.”

“Fine, why are you so weird after that night?” Percys smirk evaporated and you pointed an accusatory finger at him, “so you are aware of what I’m talking about, so I’m not imagining it?”

Your question was pure rhetorical, I mean you already knew but wanted to make sure your assumption was right.

“Yea, didn’t think it was that obvious though” he rubbed his neck.

You spoke “Painfully so actually, so let’s get this out of the way-“

Despite how confident you tried to seem, you felt your face heating up, “what did you mean by asking me if I liked you? And what were you gonna say before I just walked off?”

Percy looked a bit bashful and surprised at the questions but he sighed and glanced at you, “I.. wanted to make sure.”

“Make sure?”

“Yea”

“About what?”

Percy laughed, and smiled at you his smiles always managed to leave you breathless“I wanted to make sure you liked me, the way that I like you”

He toyed with the keychain on the house key but still maintained eye contact with you.

You were speechless. If you were shameless your jaw may have even fallen to the ground.

You didn’t expect Percy to actually confess to you but before anything else could be said you hugged him. The first time you ever made any physical touch in the entirety of knowing him too.

You leaned in close to his ear as much as possible before whispering, albeit in between stutters, “I like you too”

How embarrassing, you knew you haven’t been touched this long but the fact even uttering a few words got you all twisted was definitely something.

Just when the situation couldn’t get any more embarrassing- the door opened and there stood and Sally and Paul.

Both you and Percy faced the two people standing at the door.

Great. You really wish a hole would swallow you up now.

——

Hope you enjoyed and so sorry for taking so long!

[becauseimanicequeen]

My Semi-Coherent Thoughts About Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo So Far (ep. 1-6)

This is a response to some asks I got after this week's ep. 5 and 6, and some additional thoughts from me. I'll mostly throw some random points out there because I've been living in right-brain-land for most of this week (or weeks? What's time anyway, eh?), so being coherent seems like too much of a challenge right now, lol. But this post needs to be written so I can stop thinking about it and focus on something else.

Let's start with two Anons who dropped into my inbox with comments of the same context: that Dohoi was an asshole and that I wouldn't be able to defend him anymore...

Clearly, Anons, you seemed to have completely missed the point of my previous posts where I said I was neutral (I still am) and refused to go into a discussion about taking sides because that's not where the interesting bits are (not for me, anyway).

I'm on both their sides and on no one's side.

Juyeong and Dohoi have both made mistakes:

Juyeong lied about Dohoi's dad abusing him

Dohoi pretended to not know about it

Juyeong chose to stand up to Dohoi's dad even though he knew that man was a violent piece of shit

Dohoi called the police, afraid he wouldn't be able to focus on his exam, but he couldn't focus anyway

None of them communicated any of this to the other in the past

Etc.

To say that Dohoi is the asshole while Juyeong is an angel is completely ignoring an important point: nothing is ever black or white. (Yes, this is just fiction, but it's a realistic piece of fiction that shows this very point.)

Also, to think that only one of them has/does suffer is a very one-sided way of looking at it. To be fair, it's easy to fall into that trap since we're getting a lot of Juyeong's pov at the moment while Dohoi's story is still kept in the dark.

But imagine how much of a self-sabotager you are for choosing to push away people who love you because you inherently believe that you will never be good enough or will never be worthy of love. Dohoi has been in so much pain for such a long time it's familiar to him. It takes years, decades, maybe even a whole lifetime to climb out of a hole like that. And he might've been able to do that on his own if Juyeong hadn't shown up at the funeral and reminded him of all the things from the past once again.

One of the Anons then proceeded to list all the ways Juyeong was abandoned and that Dohoi did the exact same thing to him, which made Dohoi even more of an asshole...

I can't help but wonder if we've seen the same show.

Because Dohoi was abandoned too.

They’re both dealing with abandonment issues.

None of them had present parent growing up

Juyeong was adopted, which will always be a wound for him (and being adopted by those kinds of parents didn’t make it any better)

I can’t quite remember if they mentioned that Dohoi’s mom died or left but, either way, both can lead to abandonment issues (especially when a child is forced to go through it)

Then we have Hyeonho who turned from Dohoi's friend to his bully (again, Dohoi was abandoned)

When shit went down in the past, Juyeong left with his parents, and while that was a valid reason, it was yet another person who left Dohoi (which, to be fair, made Dohoi indirectly responsible since he called the police)

And then Juyeong was abandoned by Dohoi who went radio silent for years

They are both dealing with abandonment issues. Just because the show, at this point, is mostly focusing on the effects of Dohoi abandoning Juyeong doesn’t mean Dohoi wasn’t abandoned as well. Because he was. It’s mentioned and shown in subtle ways throughout the show.

Being abandoned can be a huge trauma for a person (especially for kids who don't have the tools to deal with important people leaving or dying). And we all have different trauma responses, which I think is another interesting point of this show:

Juyeong’s trauma response is to fight (he did so when he stood up for Dohoi against the bullies in the past, when he chose to stand up against Dohoi’s dad, but also when he physically punched a teacher)

Dohoi’s trauma response is flight (he tried to ignore that Juyeong was abused by his dad, he never put up a fight even when he was beaten by the bullies, he left after he threatened his dad with a knife, etc.)

None of those is a "better"/"worse" response

These characters are both traumatized for fuck's sake

And, the thing is, we've seen time and time again that the last thing Dohoi wants is to fight. He reacts even to the mere mention of it.

Juyeong fighting (even though it's never physical with Dohoi) won’t give him the results he wants from Dohoi.

And Juyeong, who was abandoned by his birth parents, adopted by a couple who didn't seem to want him anyway, and might think that no one ever fought for him, will always be hurt by Dohoi avoiding things.

They are each other's opposites even though they're dealing with a similar type of trauma.

And they won’t be able to be happy with each other (or with themselves, which is, honestly, more important) until they deal with their own trauma.

(Also, I don’t know about you, but Hwang Daseul choosing to use these contrasting trauma responses for these boys is fucking genius to me because there's so much potential for angst, which we've gotten a whole 3-course meal of. I'm well fed at this table and I won't be leaving any time soon, lol.)

One of the Anons also briefly mentioned Dohoi's old home and how he should just sell it to Juyeong because it was the only place where Juyeong was happy, and I...

*Sigh*

I'll have to admit that this was the first time in the show that my neutrality was tested because... If you can watch the following scene without feeling empathy for Dohoi, you're (no judgment) colder than me (a certified ice queen):

Imagine going back to the place where you were abused all those years. Dohoi took one look at the place, and his past traumas and emotions about what happened came pouring back. I'm not surprised he wants to sell it. Hell, if I was him, I'd want to decimate the place. But, instead, he has to deal with Juyeong wanting to buy it even though Juyeong knows what went down in that house.

If Juyeong wants to keep it "as is" to make sure Dohoi doesn't regret selling the place, Juyeong is delulu. If he wants to buy it and build something new, that's different. But we don't know what he wants yet. We don't really know why he's so intent on buying the place (other than not wanting Dohoi to regret it).

Either way, that whole situation made me feel a bit weird about Juyeong. Buying the place where the person you loved experienced trauma? What the actual fuck? And I'm not surprised that Dohoi is feeling some kind of way about it (and if he still thinks it's because Juyeong feels some kind of loyalty or guilt towards his dad, that's so fucking sad).

I do think the place is important to the rest of the story, though. It's the place where theirs began. It's the place where they loved and lost and were abused. It's the place that contains the events they both need to reconcile and deal with before moving on.

Which leads me to my speculations of where this might be going in the last two episodes. Because I think Juyeong will take Dohoi to his old home. Especially since the search history on the GPS in the car he rented included it.

That place will always be an open wound for them until they deal with the past, so Dohoi can stop running from it and Juyeong can stop living in it.

It was also the place where Dohoi's walls crumbled for the first time since the time jump, so Juyeong might think that's the best place to deal with the shit once and for all.

Walden Law Firm was also in the GPS search history, which is where Hyeonho works. My guess is that Juyeong has already gone to see Hyeonho when he meets up with Dohoi at the end of the 6th episode. Whatever might've gone down in that meeting (Juyeong saying Dohoi broke it off again, Juyeong demanding to know what happened with Dohoi during the past 12 years, Hyeonho spilling the beans, or whatever), it might be the reason why Hyeonho called Dohoi to say they needed to talk.

Then there's the biggest question of all the questions I have, which is about what happened to Dohoi during those 12 years. If Dohoi didn't graduate (at least not as an architect), how did he gain everything he now has?

In regards to college, I don't think it was anything more dramatic than him not managing to have the right results on the entrance exam. Math is an essential part of architecture, and we've already seen that math wasn't Dohoi's forte.

About his apparent wealth, though. As I mentioned before, I can't remember if they mentioned whether Dohoi's mom died or left. But, if she left, there might've been some inheritance if she eventually died, which could also be how he and Hyeonho met (since these things, more often than not, require lawyers).

If that's true, feeling that his wealth was "unearned" might be a reason he lied about the floorplans to that house. (Btw, I can't believe Juyeong didn't call Dohoi's bluff because I would've called him out on his bullshit so fucking fast, lol.)

I think it's also a part of his facade to pretend that he was okay all those years even though he was suffering (which I'm sure we'll see more of in the coming episodes).

But I also feel like there's something more. More to the reason he didn't study architecture and more to how he gained his wealth. And definitely more to what was going on between Dohoi and Hyeonho and how involved Hyeonho has been the past 12 years.

There's still so much of Dohoi's story to be revealed, and I can't wait to see it all unfold.

[adnauseum11]

Unexploded Ordinance (John Price x Reader)

You and John navigate the process of moving in together. John is pleased you are home.

1.4k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex MDNI

If the end of this chapter feels a bit abrupt it's because I split it in two to keep it from being a ridiculous length. You can expect the next chapter to pick up where this one left off.

Still not completely happy with this chapter but in the interest of not circling the drain forever and moving forward I'm posting anyways lol yolo

feedback welcome!

When John hasn’t returned from his call before you are done eating your breakfast - and polishing off the last of the raspberries - you take yourself to the bathroom to shower. He’s waiting for you in the living room when you finally emerge, feeling a bit more like yourself. He’s clearly lost in thought, your hand on his shoulder finally knocking him back to the present.

John is easy to talk into moving more things today, on your impromptu day off. When you arrive back at the apartment, he checks the door before he lets you enter, satisfied it’s been undisturbed. You immediately bicker with him about your furniture and what pieces will stay or go. You can tell he’s pleased when he wins the debate between the couches, you being partial to your vintage re-upholstered and wildly heavy chesterfield sofa. It’s too short for John to lay down on, forcing him to bend his knees and isn’t very comfortable, truth be told. It’s a gorgeous deep green velvet that draws the eye but otherwise isn’t overly practical. You pout about having to give it up until he gives over on your books entirely. He’s consistently bitched about moving your personal library, filled with heavy anthologies from your university days. They’ve been dragged from pillar to post over the years and you’ve refused every less than subtle suggestion to sell them. He doesn’t even try to make you choose which ones to keep, sighing deeply in resignation and asking how many boxes you think it will take to pack them all. This earns him the hardest hug you can muster and a rain of kisses he has to crouch for, chuckling lowly.

You make a trip back to his place with your clothing, the colourful array of fabrics making John’s limited selections seem all the starker by comparison. It brings you up short, seeing your things beside his in the wardrobe. You get caught up wondering what the hell you are doing, agreeing to this. You don’t get very far in your spiral before John finds you, kneeling surrounded by folded t-shirts. You’re jealous of his ability to seemingly pick a course of action and execute it without the self-doubt that swamps you occasionally. If you hadn’t known him as long as you have you would say it’s something he learned in the military, but you’re pretty sure that’s all John.

His presence steadies you again and you end up making another trip to collect your hairdryer and various other products needed to make yourself presentable for work tomorrow. Most of your everyday use items and valuables are safely rehoused in John’s flat by the time you are ready to throw the towel in for the day. You agree to go to the pub around the corner for dinner, neither of you feeling like cooking. On the walk down, John’s big hand stays on your lower back, keeping you close as you wander down the street together. It’s quiet at the pub, early in the week meaning the clientele are mostly regulars. You get your choice of seats and John steers you to a booth against the back wall, tugging you to sit on the same side as him.

He questions your half-baked plan to quit your job while distracting you from giving an answer, his hand creeping over your thigh and shoulders, bracketing you against him. You finally cross your legs, pinning his warm hand between your thighs so you can formulate a coherent response. He presses a smirk against your temple and listens as you complain of your treatment this morning, and then just in general. You've had a volatile few days and vent your spleen accordingly.

He removes his hands from your body when the food arrives, creating a tiny sliver of space between you on the bench seat. John hums sympathetically at your complaints but finally convinces you to get through the rest of the week before you submit anything in writing, pointing out you should probably update your resume first at minimum. You grumble but reluctantly agree, his even-keeled approach to the situation a better tactic than your instinct for dramatics.

John’s level head only seems to extend to your choices because by the time you’re out the door and on the way home he’s truly unable to keep his hands to himself. Twice on the short walk back he’s pressed you up against the wall of a nearby building, his hands cupping your face as his eager mouth finds yours. You make out like teenagers until you can feel the cold creeping into the tips of your ears, a gentle push against his chest enough to back him off temporarily. You’re getting better at reading John in this state, how his eyes glaze with want and his focus narrows. You finally resort to threading your fingers with his to keep his hand from constantly drifting over your ass, wrapping yourself around his arm to make him behave. 

You open the door using your key, John too preoccupied with working his hands under your jacket and shirt. His big body corrals you against him, kicking the door shut after wrestling you through it, almost not giving you time to get your key out of the lock.

“Fucking hell John.”

You breathe out as he spins you around, your arms going around his neck automatically. He kisses you hungrily, his palm cupping the back of your head. You feel the thump of the wall at your back, his hand leaving the back of your head to shove your coat off your shoulders. You wiggle out of it and push at the thick lambskin jacket he’s wearing, slipping your hands under it to grip his shoulders. He shrugs out of it, his lips finding yours again almost immediately. You can feel desire vibrating through his frame, his thigh working its way between yours. Before he can overwhelm you completely, you push back against his chest.

He's breathing hard, confusion mixing across his face as you flatten your palms against his chest and push, reversing your positions by backing him up against the opposite wall. You have to go up on your tip toes, gripping the back of his neck to tug him down to kiss you again. He’s got his hands full of your ass, too preoccupied to catch on to your intent until you're slipping out of his grasp, sliding to your knees in front of him. Your nimble fingers have his belt undone and his jeans open before he can process and stop you, hissing out your name as your fingers wrap around his twitching cock.

You smirk to yourself and wrench a deep groan from his chest as your lips close around the flushed head of his cock, your eyes locking on his face. His cheeks and throat are flushed with the same shade of red as his cock, his blue eyes now nearly black, his pupils dilated with desire. He looks so intense it sends a thrill through your belly that you’re capable of affecting him like this. You swirl your tongue over the head, tasting the salty pre-cum and slide your palm up the wiry hair of his firm abdomen, pushing his shirt up.

John growls lowly, his fingers burying into your hair, gripping close to the roots. He doesn’t try to direct your movements, content to let you work him over however you see fit but the gentle pull on your hair sends flashes of sensation down your spine. The muscles of his stomach jump at the drag of your fingers on his cock as you squeeze the base, sucking on the tip deeply, making John’s fingers clench in your hair. You lift off him and press his erection against his belly, running the flat of your tongue over the underside before teasing his balls with the tip of your tongue.

That has John rocking up onto his toes, hissing your name again followed by a curse. You can’t stop the pleased smirk that slides across your face and wrap your lips around the tip again, focusing your tongue on the sensitive spot on the underside. You can feel his cock twitching, the tension in his body ratcheting tighter with a moan. You let his shirt drop and cup his balls, lapping at the tip intently.

That seems to finally push John beyond his limit and he firmly tugs your hair to pull you off him. Your scalp tingles and you hum in disappointment but John’s already got a hold of your arm, lifting you to your feet again.

“C'mere love, I want to be inside you when I cum.”  

He growls lowly, making you shiver, backing you down the hallway to the bedroom with predatory intent. The look on his face makes your stomach quiver in anticipation, your insides going molten.

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @cadotoast @beebeechaos @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00

[fandoms--fluff]

Hello I just wanted to ask if you can do one where Hope has a little sister is another daughter of Hylie and Klaus is named Crystal Mikaelson, she is the light of Hope's eyes and she is the key for Hope to turn on her humanity crystal age is 6 months

The Little Key

Baby female Mikaelson reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: swearing, thats all

A/n: I did change the oc name to just y/n, cause that's what I'm used to writing and the age is a bit bumped up to around almost a year old to fit better with the fic, but she's still female. I hope you like it 💗

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Josie bounces you in her arms with one of her hands on the back of your head while you're crying your eyes out. Your sobs and crying are silent, wanting your big sister and everyone can tell you miss her even if you can't speak coherently yet.

You remember the feeling of another woman but she's been gone a long time. Now it's only Hope, your big sister, you have that same feeling with.

Josie holds you close and stands up from the couch in the living room, trying to quiet and calm you down a bit. Lizzie, Kaleb, MG, Finch, and Cleo are the only other ones in the room. They're all standing or sitting, trying to come up with a plan to get Hope's humanity back.

They hear heels clicking on the hardwood floor, "Hmm, I can help you with that. Stop trying" Hope walks into the Library with her arms crossed.

She glances at you for a moment before quickly moving her vision over to everyone else standing up now. Cleo starts a spell on her, but Hope picks up on it straight away and knocks the witch out with an easy spell. The older witch falls back onto the couch, unconscious.

"Hope, what are you doing here?" Josie asks, hiding your face under her jean jacket so you don't see any other incidents that may come.

"Do I need a reason to come back to my old school?" Hope rhetorically says.

You let out a loud whine, tears subsiding, hearing your sister's voice and wanting to go to her. You manage to escape from under Josie's jacket and make a grabby hand toward Hope while your other hand is holding onto Josie's shirt collar.

"What about your baby sister? The old you would have never been this unthoughtful" Josie exclaims, tightening her grip as hard as she can without hurting you.

Hope laughs with a scoff mixed in, she says, "This is your big plan? Saying some tiny touching thing about my sister and then insulting me? Heh, you can do better".

She started to walk over to the brunette twin. Lizzie moves quickly and stands in front of you both.

"What? You really think I'd hurt my own sister and the girl I had the smallest crush on for a measly week?" Hope chuckles at the taller girl.

She raises her hands and snaps the heretic's neck effortlessly before she could answer. After, she casts an immobilization spell on everyone except you.

Vamping over, Hope takes you into her arms and leaves the school before the spell wares off.

All of your tears immediately subside and your breathing levels out as you cling to the tribid.

She walks into the abandoned Mikaelson mansion that your guys' family used to live in for around two years. She's been staying in the house since a week after she turned her humanity off.

Hope walks up the staircase after locking the door and enters the room which she's taken, which is Klaus', or used to be anyways.

She puts you down on the bed and starts pacing back and forth. A second later you raise your hands up, wanting to be back in your sister's arms.

"What the hell is wrong with you, why'd you take her. There was absolutely no reason to, ughh. No, no way am I turning the damn thing back on. I see what your doing" Hope rambles to herself and her mind trying to get her to flip it back on, ignoring your pleas to be back in her hold.

"Hhh-o,mmhh" you whine, not being able to pronounce it.

You keep trying over and over, not being able to get it right, and Hope paying no mind to your babbling.

She can already feel her switch flittering between off and on, but she pauses as soon as she hears the word that comes out of your mouth.

"Ho...Hop... Hope" you finally pronounce correctly and yell out to your sister.

"What'd you just say?" She walks over and finally picks you up from the made bed.

"...Hope," you say again.

She closes her eyes, trying to fight off her switch, but after some time it was no use. Opening them back up slowly, she looks down at you in her grasp, holding onto a lock of her wavy auburn hair.

"Hey y/n/n, I'm sorry. I'm here now sweetie" Hope holds your tiny frame against her tightly, not wanting to let go.

You lay your head on her collarbone with a hand still in her hair, content and happy being back with your big sister.

"You said your first word" she whispers into your hair and kisses your head.

[bryce-bucher]

500 CALIBER CONTRACTZ Post #12

Dialogue!!!11:

The main thing I did over the past week or so was put together this dialogue system. The system itself was fairly easily to implement, and I think the only interesting part of the process to share is how I went about making the UI. As per usual, I wanted to have a cool mechanical feeling ui, but at the same time a friend of mine suggested an AOL instant messenger inspired chat window. I loved both of these ideas so I decided to combine them into a screen that pops up and contains the aim-like window. The modeling process for the screen was similar to how I went about making the other two bits of ui that are on screen in the above photos, but I decided to include a VGA port.

VGA PORT:

I didn't originally plan to include a VGA port, but I was in the middle of researching monitors and accidentally left a window open on my computer that just had a big photo of one and I went "wait a minute.". With my final two braincells I suddenly decided to slap together a model for the port which I ended up being proud enough of to, for some reason, make an entire section for it.

Sorry if any of the above sentences read horribly. I am going to need a third braincell if you want this stuff to be coherent. Anyway, Blender is so cool. Using the array modifier to make all these lil squares for the holes in the port is just such a satisfying process. I've come to really like makin pre-rendered assets like this.

New Movez:

This is actually a pretty big inclusion, and I probably should've ranked it in my mind above the VGA port. I added some new movement options to the game!

Firstly, I added this melee move where you swing the back of the sniper forwards to propel yourself a bit. It is mainly useful as a bunnyhop that allows you to conserve momentum.

Next up I added this kick that happens if you melee while in the air. It's basically just the one from mario64. It lets you gain a little bit more height and distance. It also becomes way more effective if you have a lot of momentum. A good tool for correcting jumps and reaching new heights.

Finally, we have the big schmovement slide. This slide gives you a huge burst of speed that you can jump out of in order to send your self flyin. Surprisingly, it didn't really break any of the level design and ended up being a really fun addition imo. In order to perform it, you have to do a ground pound and then melee as you hit the ground. Also, I feel like I basically stole this from pseudoregalia. Played through that recently and it has been a good source of inspiration.

Nova!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:

This is a cameo skin I've been really excited to finally make myself put in the game. Anodyne 2 is a really important game to me, and I love it much. I'm really happy tha folks at analgesic let me put her in here, and I'm p happy with how her model came together. If you haven't peeped the Anodyne games I highly recommend them. The first one was a major inspiration for parts of Fatum Betula.

Conclusion:

Lately I've been playing this game way too much. It has made it impossible for me to tell if it is fun or well designed. Some problems cropped up during playtesting that ima need to address, and I hope that it all comes together into something that one could say is "fun and cool". I think takin this weekend off is gonna do my brain good. Oh yeah also I feel like I should advertise that I'm still doing commissions if anyone is interested. Anyway, have a good 1 and enjoy urself.